be the son that he figured it to be."
"Well, there you go. We have another goal and result to plan around then. Orlaan should know who is destroying his family first before his death," Caldrefan stated coldly. Death no longer had much meaning to the leader of the brothers. His heart was steeled against such emotions, since he had lost his brother long ago. Now was a time for thought and reconnaissance also, the man thought.
If Malaiy fell, he could also choose who among the royals paid the blood price for Orlaan's indiscretion. Karlaan would become king and the brotherhood would gain greater power as he continued towards the ultimate goal that he had set for himself. It would take time, but he had time.
Caldrefan left Karlaan to his own devices moving to a room said to be for meditation. Few would dare bother the man there. He was a leader of the brothers, a spiritual and physical leader that had been around longer than anyone could remember. It was his voice that they repeated in the streets and in the sanctuary of each temple throughout the nations. He was a king among the brothers, but not their god.
A statue standing eight feet tall of Sordrian, the chosen god of the Brothers of the Blood, stood near the far wall from the only noticeable door leading into the room. It was an inner sanctum. No outer wall lent vulnerability to the god's room, but the man standing across from the bronzed statue wasn't looking on this as some idol for the masses to believe in.
Caldrefan looked at the face, created from his memory by artisans long ago, when the memory of his brother remained stronger in his mind's eye. Now this was the way he remembered Sordrian and the man could no longer see the color of his brother's eyes or the exact shade of his skin. He no longer smiled in his mind, but was this solemn metal figure looking down on him.
A dark shape slipped from behind the statue. Most would have been startled by the silent figure, but Caldrefan had been expecting him and had felt him through his use of magic. Wards had been set. No one would sneak up on him while the next conversation began. No one needed to know of this branch of the brothers, but him. Caldrefan had chosen this bit of darkness as he had others, but they were the hand that the others didn't see.
Kneeling on one knee, the figure in black even had his head wrapped in a cloth without revealing his face to the man who knew him whether he was masked or not.
"Father Caldrefan," the man's voice was deep, yet subtle like the movement of a snake through dark swamp water.
His title varied amongst those who knew him. Caldrefan was brother, father and even lord to those who revered him most.
"Brother," he acknowledged the man without calling his name. No one could hear it if he slipped, but it was best to let the man in black remain nameless. He wasn't known to his local congregation and had disappeared from notice from the temple in Daria years before making most of the brothers believe him lost or dead.
The man's eyes lifted to his leader receiving a nod to stand. "You really should teach that young man more humility. If he continues to speak out, even in small circles, the others will have trouble following him."
"Karlaan gets impatient. I have him in hand. He will fit his role when it comes down to it, even if I need to exercise a tighter rein in the future," Caldrefan replied coolly. The man in black had been a close confidante in the past and remained so, even though his skills had been put to use in a different way from his time as a brother serving the temple.
"Impatience can lead to foolishness, but I know you have seen that and know that you will keep the boy in check."
A nod from Caldrefan was the only other gesture, but it didn't add any acceptance of other faults in the future king. "Duke Amaan is dead. Has there been any interest in his castle or lands since the funeral?"
"Just the usual visits from the king's envoys. Without a wife still alive or
"Well, there you go. We have another goal and result to plan around then. Orlaan should know who is destroying his family first before his death," Caldrefan stated coldly. Death no longer had much meaning to the leader of the brothers. His heart was steeled against such emotions, since he had lost his brother long ago. Now was a time for thought and reconnaissance also, the man thought.
If Malaiy fell, he could also choose who among the royals paid the blood price for Orlaan's indiscretion. Karlaan would become king and the brotherhood would gain greater power as he continued towards the ultimate goal that he had set for himself. It would take time, but he had time.
Caldrefan left Karlaan to his own devices moving to a room said to be for meditation. Few would dare bother the man there. He was a leader of the brothers, a spiritual and physical leader that had been around longer than anyone could remember. It was his voice that they repeated in the streets and in the sanctuary of each temple throughout the nations. He was a king among the brothers, but not their god.
A statue standing eight feet tall of Sordrian, the chosen god of the Brothers of the Blood, stood near the far wall from the only noticeable door leading into the room. It was an inner sanctum. No outer wall lent vulnerability to the god's room, but the man standing across from the bronzed statue wasn't looking on this as some idol for the masses to believe in.
Caldrefan looked at the face, created from his memory by artisans long ago, when the memory of his brother remained stronger in his mind's eye. Now this was the way he remembered Sordrian and the man could no longer see the color of his brother's eyes or the exact shade of his skin. He no longer smiled in his mind, but was this solemn metal figure looking down on him.
A dark shape slipped from behind the statue. Most would have been startled by the silent figure, but Caldrefan had been expecting him and had felt him through his use of magic. Wards had been set. No one would sneak up on him while the next conversation began. No one needed to know of this branch of the brothers, but him. Caldrefan had chosen this bit of darkness as he had others, but they were the hand that the others didn't see.
Kneeling on one knee, the figure in black even had his head wrapped in a cloth without revealing his face to the man who knew him whether he was masked or not.
"Father Caldrefan," the man's voice was deep, yet subtle like the movement of a snake through dark swamp water.
His title varied amongst those who knew him. Caldrefan was brother, father and even lord to those who revered him most.
"Brother," he acknowledged the man without calling his name. No one could hear it if he slipped, but it was best to let the man in black remain nameless. He wasn't known to his local congregation and had disappeared from notice from the temple in Daria years before making most of the brothers believe him lost or dead.
The man's eyes lifted to his leader receiving a nod to stand. "You really should teach that young man more humility. If he continues to speak out, even in small circles, the others will have trouble following him."
"Karlaan gets impatient. I have him in hand. He will fit his role when it comes down to it, even if I need to exercise a tighter rein in the future," Caldrefan replied coolly. The man in black had been a close confidante in the past and remained so, even though his skills had been put to use in a different way from his time as a brother serving the temple.
"Impatience can lead to foolishness, but I know you have seen that and know that you will keep the boy in check."
A nod from Caldrefan was the only other gesture, but it didn't add any acceptance of other faults in the future king. "Duke Amaan is dead. Has there been any interest in his castle or lands since the funeral?"
"Just the usual visits from the king's envoys. Without a wife still alive or
Similar Books
