Jashen stood in the shadows of the building across the street and watched the lights from inside D’Vena’s taken rooms. He noticed when one her retainers brought the body down and placed it in the alleyway. One down, he thought. Only two to go. His thoughts were grim, otherwise. He pondered what the outcome of the night might be. With a seriousness not usual to him, he even considered that they may all die. Yet, he knew that even in death Crispian would be done with the curse, and D’Vena could not reach beyond the grave. He hoped it would not come to that, for any of them. However, his resolve was steely. If the Dark Angel came for him, Blessed Uriel, he would go to that nether shore. He also prayed that such a trip would be called on for none of them.


His mind turned to Azi. In the days since the Abbey, he had thought of her often, and finally was at peace with his part in her life. A friend, perhaps a dear friend, but for her, no one rivaled Ascot. He had seen that in the League hall the day Ascot had joined. Her joy had been solely for Ascot as she looked on him with shining eyes and proud smile. He grinned wistfully. Well, if Crispian could fall in love again, so could Jashen, right? He thought.


He adjusted his cloak and slid further back into the shadows. Still over an hour before he met them at the church. The rain started and streaked the little light that there was, but he was still sure he could notice any move D’Vena might make should she sense that death was coming for her.


--


Crispian ghosted across the Defender’s courtyard on silent feet. He was clad only in a white mantle, head bare as were feet. He had no acoutrements on him at all, save a silver holy symbol and Asylyn’s Sphere. The Chapel of St. Michael stood against the back wall of the Defenders’ Compound. The friars prayed there daily, but at this time of night it would be empty. He came to it as he had come to the day Oakleif made him a knight, in the simple garb of a pentitent.


Entering the silent chapel, lit only a few votive candles, he walked up the aisle. The smell of sandlewood oil filled the still air, mingling with a hint of incense. He came before the altar and slowly sank to his knees, then down onto his chest, arms wide in a sacrificial pose. He poured his heart into prayer, offering all he was to the Almighty, to that Divine Presence he believed guided the universe in its course, and held the souls of all within its grasp. With a great opening of himself, he emptied his heart of all, asking only peace and fortitude for what had to be done.


At last, he wept, for all that might not be, and for all that had been eschewed by the Curse, by his role in the Collapse of the Whitethorne, and in the destruction of she who had been D’Vena. The only remorse he felt when he raised himself up to leave was that D’Vena had once been a child of the Divine, before life took her elsewhere. He mourned that it was his role to either slay her, or drive her finally from the Light of the Almighty.

 

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"Strange requests, Sister Azaeli," Sister Elaydith's whisper echoed through the vast upper hall of the Church. Azi frowned slightly. She had hoped to be able to obtain the things that Crispian had asked for without calling much attention to herself or having to answer too many questions. Sister Elaydith owed her nothing, Azi knew, quite the contrary in fact. It was she who had provided Azi and her father with food and care and comfort in Lisabella's place. She had cared for them as wife and mother in Pappa's darkest and most maddened hours.


"I assure you, Sister, I would not ask such of the church if it was not of dire importance." Azi tried desperately to keep her voice even, though inside she was more nervous than she had ever been. Colored glass was one thing to request, but the reliquary meeting Crispian's specifications... Azi knew she had no right to ask to be entrusted to care for such an item. And could she promise no harm would come to it? She had no idea what Crispian was planning.


Sister Elaydith looked at Azi for quite some time, thoughts flashing behind her deep brown eyes. Finally, she tucked her hands inside her robes and lowered her head solemnly, then turned to lead Azi into the inner confines of the church.


Just a half hour later, after a solemn meeting and sworn oath, Azi stepped out into the street. The scabbard at her back that usually so carefully held her mother's sword was painfully empty. In its stead, nestled in her arms as tenderly as a newborn babe, she carried the pack of requested items.


She did not allow herself to be pleased. The weight of this responsibility along with what was to come was almost overwhelming as she made her way to meet with the others.

Bah! SLACKER!


/not just a bump... wanted to let crispian know

Arcalan came to in the League Hall, with impeccable timing. She knew Phalos was near at hand, sensing his presence and that of Nalewin in the chamber.

She struggled to sit up, in her feignd weakness. "Phalos! take your oppertunity" She cried out in a mewling voice "Slay me while D'Vena's control is lax lest she gain hold on me again!" Her eyes brimmed with tears, her heart and soul bare before him, her conerfeit flawless.

Phalos spun round and Nalewin started to her feet. "Arcalan?" he asked of her.

Arcalan gasped. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she slumped againt the pillow, certain that little turn would buy her all the credit she needed. Should Phalos actually tryand slay her she'd have to boil his brains for him, but she knew there was little chance there.

She listened intently to the conversation around her, twitching to show an unquiet repose. Now she awaited Crispian's next move. Would he drag her into the confrontation? Or would Jashen execute his plan to distract the witch? Time would reveal all.

Ceowyr could be seen, haggered, emerging from the Crypt where he had spent three nights researching and distributing forgotten and ancient materials to the strange little men who had been arriving near the church, unobserved by others. At last he had liberated the Book of Shades from the Forbidden Library and returned it to the Inconnu.

The Academy had, in their hubris, thought Necromancy was wiped out.. but it's lure would tempt the fate of men for aeons to come. Now Lord Arawn, god of the dead, owed his Master a favour, and all the time the eyes of others had been on the showy antics of his accomplice Arcalan. The plan was well under way. Now he thought as he fingered his Holy Symbol, to rest a little. It had been taxing work.

As he made his way home, blessing people in the streets, he thought of Tobyas. That preacher would have to be his own pet project he'd decided. If Tobyas were given enough rope he'd surely hang himself.. a sweet revenge on Mother Chruch and Crispian alike. Another day perhaps, but in the early light of the morn the seeds of destruction were planted. They'd have burned Ceowyr as a heretic had they known his ideas about the universe, but now they'd burn the pure of heart, and the corruption of his soul would be plain for all to see.

He'd better leave it a day and then check on Arcalan. She'd have much to tell him he was sure, and the Master would be well pleased with them both. Once this D'Vena woman was safely in the earth the next part of their plot could continue...

He trudged wearily up to the League Hall, shivering slightly in the morning air and bustled by the crowds that began to ooze into the streets of Camelot.

/bump


((Long weekend, sorry for the pause all. Working on concluding this here little story.))

 

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<reads the bump and sighs, then goes back to planning how much more chaos she can cause in the league>

---Cris, I hope you're enjoying my creative writing energy, it seems to have left me to persue other interests..hopefully Price is one of them.. ---


Meantime..


/bump


<glares at her sis> What was that you're doing?


/end hijack

They were all assembled at last in the small church. Tobyas and Nekolia had arrived slightly before Azi and Lexi and Jashen had been last of all. Crispian entered in his full armor, gleaming with cleanliness. He was resolved to what had to be done this night.


“Greetings and welcome to you all. I thank you now for the work that will come of this eve.” He looked at each of his friends, and Nekolia, one time teacher of she whom he had to face. “I would ask for some time now in prayer before we go forth to meet her.”


Tobyas new this was his cue and he stood, smoothing his vestments over his chain armor. He bowed his head and opened the small prayer book he held. As his hand raised in blessing over them all, he intoned solemn words. “Lord Almighty, who did cause the world to come into being in Goodness and Love, We implore you this night to see us trough our battle. May we triumph over the foe and lay her low, as she has gone foul of Your Love and seeks only that which is evil is your sight.” His hand moved in blessing over them all. He had never had to bless others for such a grave task. His hand shook slightly.


“My intention is to assault her on many fronts at once,” Crispian explained as he laid out the items they had. His sword had a fine new edge on it, thanks to Lexi. Tobyas had shriven him earlier, a very tense confession. Jashen knew the details of his will, and Azi was a pillar as always. Lexi he knew was there for Azi more than him, but would not turn her aid down. “Nekolia,” he bowed to the older man, “if you can hit her with mind spells, we can then rush her. Tobyas, you need to place the candles and ward her quickly. I feel strongly from all that has been said that she has some unworldly aid.” The tales of cold and stench fit with possession by the demonic, and Crispian hoped to be able to counter any aid with warding and blessings.


“Azi, I will ask you and Lexi to strike at her. That will keep her attention as well. First, get rid of that retainer.” He looked to Jashen, who nodded. “Her other one is dead already, so that leaves her just the one.” He looked at each one, holding their gazes. He felt no tension, no nervousness. He was born to command, he knew. At barely 24, he was a seasoned leader, though he sought that not in the least. “Once we are in, there will be no coming out without the final victory being decided. If, however, it looks like I will be defeated, I want you to get out.” He looked them all over again, knowing that not one of them would obey that command. “Well, let’s prepare to leave.”


It was then that he noticed Azi’s scabbard, empty on her back. He looked to the reliquary, sitting shining on the sideboard. Tobyas was readying a leather satchel for it even now, padding it with linen wadding. “Azi, your sword!”


She offered him a weak smile, her face paling. “The sister at the church wanted some assurance that the bones of St. Thomas, and their housing would return. Crispian, please don’t be upset,” she nearly pleaded. “It was the only solution I could think of as she asked me.”


Crispian thought of the platinum in their coffers, of the great treasures the League had stored up against future needs. However, he could not help but smile at Azi, his love for her showing plainly. “Well, we will be delayed a few moments then.” He pulled Jashen aside and soon his brother departed quietly. “I have something in my vault that I think will be an adequate substitute. At least, I hope it will.”


The silence dragged on, as each was alone then with their thoughts. Crispian adjusted his cloak and the broad white leather belt of his knighthood as he waited. Azi and Lexi withdrew together to one side of the room, assuring each other that all would be well in the end. Tobyas, the mantle-like vestments of battle-priest draping him, stood quietly to the side with Nekolia. The old man considered the younger cleric with that odd non-seeing but all-observing gaze of his.


“So, it is the young knight, hmm?” he asked suddenly. His thin hands were lying in his lap, motionless. Of them all, he was the most calm and reserved. “How remarkable.”


Toby turned to him, mild surprise registering on his face. The old man had hinted and even stated that he knew but now he gave it direct voice. “Yes, it is him,” Toby said quietly. He looked from Nekolia, a physically spent and wasting old man, to Crispian, a hail and hardy young warrior. “Since the moment I met him, really.” A wistful smile passed over Toby’s face as he turned back to the packing of his needed supplies.


“But you have not told him, have you?” the old man asked. The ways of the young heart were not strange to him, nor were barriers of station and status, although he had to admit this was something he had not thought of encountering. He knew of vice and lust, but it was obvious even to him that what the young cleric felt was not just a matter of the physical, but something more. “And do you intend to, Tobyas Battlepriest?” His filmed eyes held Toby’s startled look.


“I do not know if I can, good sir,” he said quietly, again turning back to readying what he needed. His hands shook slightly as he resumed his packing and preparations. “It is not seemly to speak of such things, considering our differences.” He did not add the obvious statement about similarities. His coppery-brown hair gleamed in the dim light as he bowed his head to the pack he was finishing on.


Nekolia grinned, a slightly haunted look coming to his face. “I loved her once,” he said in a hushed voice, “this woman you are about to confront.” Toby’s head snapped up to look at the old man, meeting his gaze squarely. “Oh, yes, even an old man like me was once stirred with passion,” he smiled in self-mocking humor. “But, there were obstacles.”


His thin hands rose and covered his face a moment, then slid over it and to his lap again. “I was a nothing, a peasant with a talent who had risen. No title, no lands, nothing had I for one such as her, and she was my student. There were question of propriety and a difference in rank, of course. She, the daughter of an ancient and noble home.” He gazed over Toby’s head and into his own past. “A beauty, as well, she was. Stunning in how she moved, in her every gesture there was grace. And her skill was so boundless. She could have been the greatest of our age, installed at the Academy and called on by the King.


“No, she was not this wicked creature you see now. Not even shortly before that disaster at her mansion.” He smiled again. “She came to dine with me a few days before it happened, you know. She was upset, allowing her ambitions for her niece and her thirst for revenge to cloud her judgement. But still, I could tell she had beauty and poise, grace and power.” He trailed off for a moment, looking again toward Toby at last. “Consider just this, my young friend. If I had professed what I felt for her those forty plus years ago, we might not now be in this chamber, preparing for this confrontation with what she has but recently become.” He nodded softly to Tobyas, voice trailing low as Jashen reentered the room to hand Crispian a long bundle, nearly half the height of either twin.


“Azi!” Crispian called, taking the package wrapped in dark blue silken cloth. He unrolled the wrapping, revealing a scabbard of worked silver around a wood core. A hilt of approximately two feet in length left the curved scabbard and was itself a work of art. “This is a scimitar from a greater Telamon. I have been keeping it for a time when someone would need it.” He drew the shining blade out. It was nearly three and a half feet of steel, hardened in ancient fires and tested in recent battles. Not a nick or blemish stained the surface of it. “If you would, I would have you wield it this night.”


He passed the blade to Azi, hilt first over his forearm as he sank to one knee. “I ask you, My Lady, to bear this into the battle,” he said as she lifted the blade away. It was large, bigger than Mamma’s blade, but balanced and sharp. Truly, a fine piece of work and crafting even if the origin was not completely to Azi’s liking.


Still, Crispian had defeated the foe, no doubt in the endless struggle to reclaim Lyonesse. She turned the blade over in the low light of the room, and then nodded. “I would be honored to use this blade for you this night, my liege,” she said rather formally, so to keep her rising emotions in check. Just scant weeks ago she had been so worried that Crispian would not be able to accept her as a warrior, a paladin. Now, on bended knee, he was offering her a blade that most of the realm would never see. “And victory shall be on its edge,” she added as he rose to his feet and gave her the scabbard, which Lexi helped her to begin to fasten.


Toby watched the exchange, quietly. “My Lord,” he called into the quiet of the room, motioning with his head for them to withdraw slightly to one side. When Crispian had joined him, near to the back of the room, he found that his thoughts were tangled and unsure. A nervousness gripped him unlike any he had known in his life. “Lord, I wanted to uh, well, I wished to clear on, um,” he paused, looking more at the floor than Crispian. How could he express what he wanted to say, when it could all be changed shortly? “I wanted to say to you,” he pressed on, tongue dry and thick in his mouth, “that I am very grateful for all that you have done for me.” Even as he ended, his words felt hollow and short of the mark he wished them to reach.


Crispian smiled. So like Toby, he thought. To make sure all thanks had been expressed. “I, too, am very touched by all that you have done these past weeks, Tobyas. You have been a stalwart friend,” the young lord got out, not daring to speak more for lack of trust of himself. He began to turn.


“I’m not done,” Tobyas said quietly, locking his eyes on Crispian. It was now, he knew, now that he must get out what he wanted to say, and the fate of this night be damned. “I love you, Cris,” he said in a rush, “and it’s not the curse or D’Vena or anything to do with that! I’ve been in love with you for a long while now. Yes, at first it was the image of you,” he continued you, grabbing Crispian’s hand, “but then I got to know you, and we had that afternoon in Ludlow, and I had to tell you all this now, or I might never be able to, after tonight, and I wasn’t sure I could risk one of us not coming back and my not having said this.” He stopped. He was slightly shocked he had actually said this to Crispian. He could talk about this to others, but now he had thrown it out.


The look of surprise on Crispian’s face slowly changed to mild discomfort. He wasn’t sure what he thought about it all in regard to Tobyas. Now, he had a confession of love to deal with. He himself had not yet started to deal with any of the emotional side of it, being a bit caught up in the physical still. “Toby, I don’t know how to answer you right now.” He felt a wash of self-consciousness come over him. “I’m not sure what it is I want, or am supposed to want, or who. This whole mess had me turned around.”


He saw the pain and hurt in Toby’s eyes immediately, but he would not lie, not about this and not now. “Right now, if you asked me to tell you, I would say that I do want you, but I don’t know about love, or the future.” He lifted Toby’s hands and kissed the back of them. “Tomorrow everything could change, even if I do survive this night. But if I do,” he looked deeply into Toby’s eyes, “I want you there in the morning, either way.”


They remained like that for a moment, looking at each other. The silence in the rest of the room stretched on. Both of them could tell that the others were trying not to look, or notice. Suddenly, on great impulse, Toby grabbed Crispian’s face and pulled it toward him, bending his head down. Their lips met and they kissed. It was a first for Crispian, being both sober and very aware of what he was doing. They lingered a moment, then he extracted himself, blushing like a farm lad at his first May dance.


His throat worked convulsively for a moment as he tried to speak. “We’ll figure out what to do tomorrow, Toby,” he said quietly, very aware that everyone had stopped trying not to look at them sometime ago. They stood within inches of each other, but it seemed a world had suddenly come between them. Gray eyes met blue and Crispian had to look away first.


“Let’s finish our preparations here and get going,” he said in a voice thick with emotion. Toby looked on, knowing that more than the answers he sought about this young Briton would be found in the morning. He wondered if he would like what the new day had to bring.

 

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"It's rude to stare, Lex," Azi murmured under her breath as her sister tugged on the strap of her sheath. The sword was heavier than her mother's blade, and strangely curved. Azi knew she could manage it, though, and ached to see it draw D'vena's blood. She avoided following her sister's eyes. Instead, she made as if she was fastening a strap at her boot, looking down at the floorboards as Lexi continued to pull and stare at the two men across the room.


"Oh, but look!" Lexi squealed softly, rapping on Azi's back excitedly, "Tobyas is leaning in!" At that moment, Azi's eyes flicked up to see Tobyas drawing away, and Crispian reddening deeply. She turned to see a wide-eyed Lexi staring, her hands to her mouth in shock. "He kissed him!" She breathed.


Azi took Lexi by the shoulders and turned her so her back was to the others. The last thing she needed was for her sister to be asking her questions that she herself didn't know the answers to, especially not now. She didn't like the idea that Lexi had tagged along, especially now, knowing what Crispian had planned. A physical attack? Why hadn't he let her use D'vena's sloppy sorcery against her?


"It's thier concern, none of your own," Azi said sternly, and Lexi jumped at her tone. "I think my boot strap is twisted, help me here..."