The Sword of Retribution

Pargonn - Part 2

     “Welcome to Pargonn, Captain.”

     The man was waiting for him as Resalintas stepped out of the teleportation cubicle. He was in his mid twenties, and despite the fact that he carried no armour or weapons of any kind, the priest recognised him instantly as a fighting man, a very well trained one. There was no mistaking the lean, athletic contours of his body, the lightly poised bounce in his step, ready to drop into a fighting crouch or jump for cover at a moment’s notice. The way he scanned his surroundings ceaselessly, alert for any threat that might manifest itself, even here where he was unlikely to be attacked. What really caught his eye, though, was the medallion he wore on a chain around his neck. It was similar to Resalintas’s golden griffin pendant except that his griffin had a more regal look and had a crown on its head. The man was a paladin.

     Resalintas dropped to one knee and bowed his head, but the paladin pulled him back to his feet with a patient smile. “None of that, now," he said. "We’re all supposed to be equal here. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

     “A priest is never equal to a paladin,” replied Resalintas. “You are the chosen of Our Lord, the pinnacle of humanity. It is right that we who are less worthy should treat you with the respect and reverence you deserve.”

     “I don’t want to hear any more talk like that while you’re on this island,” said the paladin, trying to put a stern tone into his voice but not quite managing it. “Now, you’re Resalintas from Ilandia, aren’t you? Your man and I have been getting to know each other while we were waiting for you.” He indicated Sergeant Keller, the man chosen to be the priest's aide during the meeting. He had come through some minutes before Resalintas and was standing a few feet away.

     “Glad to see you made it safely, Sir,” said Keller, coming forward to join him. He started to salute, but stopped himself just in time with a rueful smile and an awkward sideways glance at the paladin. The relaxation of strict military discipline was one of the house rules of the Fellowship, a leftover from the early days when all Fellowship members had been considered equal, no matter what class or social station they had originally been born into.

     ”My name is Gelrad,” continued the paladin. “I’ve been sent to escort you to the conference room. Will you follow me please?”

     He led the way from the circle of teleportation cubicles that stood at the bottom of the wide, bowl shaped depression. Doors were opening as more new arrivals stepped out onto the island. Most of them were in military uniforms, but they were all smart and important looking, dressed in whatever their own culture considered to be appropriate for a meeting of dignitaries. Keller smiled to himself as he saw some of them checking arms, legs, fingers and toes to make sure nothing was missing. For most of them, it was their first experience of teleportation.

     Some were greeting aides and assistants who had come through earlier. Others were waiting for partners still to come. All were being greeted by Fellowship members, though. Waiting to guide them to where the council of war would be held.

     “Lucky this place exists,” said Keller as they went. “Imagine if we'd all had to travel overland to meet in one place. By the time we'd all gotten together, the war would have been over.”

     “That wasn't the primary reason for the creation of the teleportation network,” said Gelrad, “But you're right. It's only a pity some of the delegates live so far from the nearest teleportation cubicle. We could have been having this meeting days ago.”

     “Better late than never,” said the Sergeant, and the paladin nodded.

     Fellowship troopers watched them carefully as they climbed the flight of steps to ground level and passed through one of the gates in the encircling wall. The Fellowship didn't want to be invaded by means of the teleportation cubicles, some of which were located very close to the Shadow. Fellowship wizards could deactivate the cubicles if they had word that enemy forces were drawing close, of course, but a surprise attack was always possible and the Fellowship, as one of the world's most important bastions of law and justice, was always a prime target for the forces of evil, even in times of peace.