Avilmerg, Kingdom of Gadolin
Flowertide, 2339
"How many?"
"Twenty-three killed, sir. Eighteen captured. At least double that probably escaped into the Loreld Valley."
"They had warning."
"Yes, sir. Appears they did."
Sir Molgenet did his best to look disappointed. But in truth, he treasured a good chase. As the templarant, his days overseeing the Temple Knights of Rethsrond usually passed slowly and without much excitement.
"Shall we return to Rethsrond, sir?"
"No, we'll hunt them in the valley. Send the prisoners back for questioning. Leave the bodies. Prepare the men to move out."
Molgenet turned his horse toward the valley and imagined the Congregants scurrying about the forest like rats. He turned to watch his men pull an old man out of a woodshed.
"Sir, we found Azra's father, Dainard."
"Where are they?" asked Molgenet from atop his horse. "Where have you hidden Azra and her fanatic Risbaume?"
"Azra has never hid, even from you foul folk," Dainard said. "You can find the Fourth serving the faithful and sharing God's word."
"Why did you not run with the others?" Molgenet asked.
"Why are the Temple Knights leading the king's men in an attack on the peaceful people of Avilmerg?"
"Peaceful?" Molgenet snorted. "Heretical inciters and traitors. You Congregants have been warned repeatedly. Now the very hand of God has come."
"God forgive your evil ways," Dainard said.
"Make him humble," Molgenet ordered as he dismounted. They shoved the old man to his knees. "Hold him," the templarant said, pulling a knife from his belt. "Putting out your tongue will bring your blasphemy to an end."
When it was done, Molgenet turned to his lieutenant.
"Nail his tongue to the post in the square. May it remind the others not to curse their own speech."
"Yes, sir."
"Then make our final preparations. I want to find the other Congregants by sundown."
Copyright © 2019 by Christopher C. Fuchs
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The Fourth Messenger
AventuraSome said Azra was guided by the divine, others that she was a false prophet. Later generations agreed: she was the beginning of a bloody schism that would last for centuries and span continents.
