12/19/1347 Madrid, Spain
We're in Madrid now, after having a serious disagreement with Gaius over what we should do about Tennant coming to kill the god of necromancy and resurrection. Gaius seemed to think it was our job to at least try to stop it from happening; the rest of us thought that a) there was nothing we could do anyway, and we'd be getting ourselves killed for no good reason and b) if we did stop it, it would be basically signing Tennant's death warrant. And, like it or not, we *need* Tennant; we need someone whose inside the council we can trust at least a little.
We went on to Madrid and left Gaius behind; Galvin and Riyor stayed behind to see how things turned out (Galvin was mostly there to haul back the bodies, if need be).
From what Riyor said, it was a short but decisive battle. Tennant won. Strawberries the red dragon (I'm sorry, I know exactly how dangerous she is, but I cannot take *any* creature named Strawberries seriously!) shielded most everyone else there present, but the god was toast and now Tennant can raise the dead.
Joy.
We have to remember that we cannot trust Strawberries. At least, we cannot trust her until we become fabulously rich. (She's the dragon we bought off before with Arnie's gems.) She seems to be completely in her own side; the only thing truly consistent about her is her greed.
She did look fabulous in that dress, though.
Anyway, Gaius wouldn't really talk about what happened. He actually has a more impressive glower than Gavião; he just uses it much less often.
We're at the temple of Epona and Gavião is being impressively general-like; calling in the remainders of the Knights Templar, giving orders, etc. I'm trying to pay attention, because I need to know about this stuff and he's got lots of military experience for me to learn from. But I also have an entire ritual with about eight different chants to learn; this stuff isn't *in* the novitiate courses, because nobody expects some random little cleric to suddenly become high priestess of the Order! I'll do fine, I'm good at memorizing this stuff, and I'm not really very nervous about the ritual.
I'm more nervous that we're all going to die, because there's a dragon with a few god powers who's planning a visit to the initiation ceremonies. I was right about those amulets I found; they do give prophetic or clairvoyant dreams. Evidently, the more of them we wear, the more clear the dreams become. So I'm wearing three of them at the moment. The fourth is still with Galvin.
I really hope it wasn't completely obvious that I *really* wanted to leave the fourth with Galvin. I'm finding I rather like being linked to his emotions, for no real reason I can name, but his presence in my mind is a comforting thing. And my life's been lacking in comforting things, lately.
So goodnight, diary. Hopefully, I'll live through the next couple of days.
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12/21, evening
Madrid
There's a spot of blood dried on the back of my hand.
I wet my finger with the tip of my tongue, and rub at the spot; it comes off, mostly. I pick up my pen again, and keep writing.
Your daughter was initiated into the temple of Epona today, after showing great promise as a novitiate. But I regret to inform you that there was an attack during the solstice ceremony...
There's blood on my lips, too; I washed my hands, but didn't bother with my face. The blood's my own, and that of those fallen on the battlefield, and of the horses who helped defend us, and I'm relearning that burned skin hurts even after it's been healed. I'd forgotten. It's been a few weeks.
The dragon did come, about halfway through the ceremony, disguised as one of the horses--why didn't I think to check the horses? Because we trust them, implicitly, because it's what we do. Because of who we are, we can't not trust them.
The dark forces that are gathering disrupted the ceremony. Among them was a dragon...
I had been hopeful. After all, we had been gifted with Excalibur, the sword that makes the bearer nearly immortal on the battlefield. (But Excalibur was not an unmixed blessing; it's changed Gavião already, and I fear more change is to come.) We had thought ahead; we were surrounded by as much of an army as we could muster on three days' notice, trustworthy souls all. We were ready for Arumaga, the white dragon.
We didn't know what the dragon wanted. And that was where we failed.
Somewhere around thirty of the fifty-four initiates were still in the circle when the dragon arrived. All of them did as they had been coached--popped into a Sanctuary and ran like hell. Unfortunately, Sanctuary merely renders you beneath notice, and confers neither invisibility nor invulnerability.
Fourteen initiates learned this the hard way today. For nine of them, it was a fatal lesson. Nine initiates, two paladins, and six horses died in the first blast of white dragon breath. The second time the dragon breathed (the real dragon, and not the illusory one; unfortunately, believing illusions kills you just as dead as the real thing) I was picking up Gaius, who'd been stunned by a Morrigan monk who looked about ready to finish the job, and I was directly in harm's way. And all the world was white and cold and pain.
I think I dropped Gaius; I know that I was stumbling towards Arnie, leaning on Tuck's staff. Galvin brought me round and healed the worst of the damage, just in time to see the dragon launch itself towards the sky, with a pair of clerics in its claws. I might have shouted; I don't remember. Something old and powerful looked out of my eyes and said, "They are MINE. You cannot have them." But whatever it was was as helpless as I was; a few seconds later the dragon disappeared through a hole in the sky, taking the two clerics with them.
The two clerics, as it turns out, who are a pair of Epona's children. (she does spend quite a bit of time on the mortal plane, and dallies with humans; her children don't usually become clerics, but it's not unknown.)
We lost. Arumaga got what he wanted. I don't know why he wanted them, but I have some guesses, and I am very afraid that they are hostages to Epona's good behavior. She does love her children.
Your daughter was one of those killed. She died bravely, fighting all the way. I am so very sorry. Words cannot express it.
The rest of the day was spent in a numb haze, cleaning up the ritual circle on the hilltop, healing the wounded, burying the dead. I am as empty of magic now as I have ever been; I used everything down to my last orison.
And now I'm writing the letters. The paladins were mostly easy; many of them don't have families, and the ones who do would probably be glad to know that their children or husbands or wives died as they lived; bravely, in battle, fighting for what they believed in.
The hard ones are the novices, the ones who, more often than not, were expected to be back in their home villages by the spring, serving the herds and the wild things. We lost too many today. One would have been too many. Nine of these letters is more than I want to write in this or any other lifetime.
We will find those who did this, and we will bring them to justice. You have my word on this.
Callas de Navarre
Headmistress of the Order of Epona
I am too tired for anger, too tired for anything but sorrow.
(That's odd. The amulet is warm again, but not hot like it is after a clairvoyant dream. Just warm. It's sort of comforting.)
Tomorrow, we cleanse and rehallow the hilltop, and I'll need to set some things in order here. The day after, we're probably off again, possibly to try to free Arnie's father, possibly to try and see if we can't get the two clerics that were kidnapped by the dragon back. I haven't said more than three or four words to the others since the battle, after I found out that everyone was all right, so I'm not sure exactly what our priorities are now.
I need to write two last letters, and then I'm done for the night.
Maybe I'll go out into the courtyard, and look at the stars. Maybe I'll go sleep between Spot and Daffodil tonight. I think I probably need the company, right about now.
Goodnight, diary. I'll go back to having hope tomorrow, but I can't muster the energy tonight.
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(piece of paper, undated, stuck in the journal just after the preceding entry)
The nightmares are back.
I dreamed about killing Nara long before I did. Now that it's done I'm still dreaming of it, reliving it in my sleep. And there are others I dream of, now.
All of this blood on my hands, and there will be so much more before we're done.
Wish I could go find Galvin.
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