The Dragon Knight Prophecy

1-10 Duty and Honor before love

 The maddening silence was broken when Tull burst into the small room. His armor groaned as he bowed slightly from the doorway.

"The Father Abbot is here my Lord," he said in his thick northern accent.

Dellain looked up from his reports. "Here? In the city or the next room?"

"He has just entered the west gate, my lord. He is on his way to the keep."

Dellain dismissed the man with a wave and glanced at the reports. The work had gone faster than expected, and the craftsmen were nearly done. The Father Abbot would be pleased about that, but all this work for a dead man seemed pointless.

His armor clanked as he stood and walked out of the dingy stone-walled office. He was thankful for the worn dark red rug that muffled his footsteps. It would do him some good to be in the sunlight. He had been reading the reports by candlelight for hours. The one narrow window little more than a slit in the stone provided little in the way of illumination. The whole of the space felt more like a cell than an office, but the grander rooms had been reserved for his most honored Father Abbot.

He left his dingy cell and walked down the winding hallways of the keep. He was sure the Father Abbot would expect to be greeted as he arrived, and Dellain didn't feel like keeping him waiting.

His black armor rattled as he hurried along. He passed the quarters of his men, the kitchen, the dining hall. Finally, he reached the door that would take him out into the courtyard. The sunlight stung his eyes as he went from the dark interior to the brightness of day. He was relieved to be free of the confines of the building and its stifling stone walls.

He quickly walked across the cobbled courtyard to the gates. For a moment he looked up, the white stone towered overhead forming an arch that made him marvel. He liked Whiteford, especially the white stone it was named after. The massive oak gates were wide open, and two men in black plate saluted as he approached.

He saluted them back with a vague gesture. It had been a battle of words and nearly swords to secure the keep for their use. The local ruler was not happy that the Father Abbot was coming here, nor that he expected to be given the cities best fortifications. Even getting the man to remove his guards from the inner gates was nearly a bloody contest. Dellain had to bribe the man heavily to get him to budge.

As he passed the gates, he could see the Father Abbot coming. A grand procession paraded down the street. Twenty soldiers in full armor and livery of red and white walked ahead. Directly behind them walked four priests. They carried incense burners in metal balls hung from chains. They swung the balls, trailing a white smoke in their wake. Behind that was the grand coach. Four white horses pulled it. It was made of metal and wood, painted white with brass trimming and red panels. It bore the unmistakable emblem of Astikar god of mercy. He could see the Father Abbot waiving out the window at the crowds that had gathered. Behind the coach were another forty men. These were all plated warriors in golden armor and red sashes. They carried great two-handed swords that they held aloft like the men before them and walked as one down the street. These were the honor guard. The men tasked with protecting the Father Abbot at all costs. All of them were veterans and held a rank similar to Knight captain. They would fight fanatically to defend the leader of their faith.

Dellain approached one of the men guarding the gate. "Order the guard assembled in the yard," he said. The man nodded and quickly ran into the courtyard calling for the guard.

Dellain stood there like a statue as the procession wound its way through the city. He held fast as the coach finally arrived practically at his feet, and out stepped the Father Abbot. He was an inch taller than Dellain with a face wrinkled by age, but eyes still sharp and piercing. He wore the layered red and white of Astikar, and on his head was a simple white cap.