Soldiers, some of whom had never dealt with the knight murmured awes of appreciation at the spectacle. Barabus simply shook his head. He knew that it was no coincidental sunlight seeming to give Talarius’ arms that glow. The man’s armor, shield and sword, as well as his horse’s barding could give off light of their own when the knight willed it. Barabus had to admit, the man knew how to make an entrance, how to create a spectacle.
If only, Barabus wished, the man did it on purpose. That was part of what bothered Barabus about Talarius. If he didn’t know the man as well as he did, he would have suspected the man to be an egotistical show off. Talarius, however, was anything but that. Every such action was unthought-out, completely genuine. The man really was the spectacle he seemed to be. A man too good to be true, thought Barabus, almost not human. Naturally, the man would correct any such statement to the effect. He would assure the individual that he was all too human, with all the human frailties of any other man. Unfortunately, Barabus had never been able to detect such frailties, except perhaps overzealousness.
Talarius had what might be considered a single threaded mind. Destroy evil for the greater glory of Tiernon. That was it. All else was secondary. Such was the case with Talarius’ last adventure. Barabus had just read the reports this morning. Talarius had gone in to rescue another knight, Sir Etrian. Apparently, Sir Etrian had been trying to track down and kill a vampire that was plaguing a small village.
The report was imprecise, strangely unlike Talarius, but apparently Etrian had failed and Talarius had gone in to bail him out. In the process, Talarius had lost sixteen men and Etrian! Only two of his men had lived. Still intensely loyal despite the carnage they’d been through. Apparently, the vampire had been extremely powerful, but as usual, Talarius had prevailed; those following him had been less fortunate.
Barabus understood the difficulties the man faced; knowing the man, Barabus was sure Talarius had done his best to protect his men. When the thought of danger to others occurred to him. It just didn’t seem to occur often enough. Encounters where only Talarius survived seemed be a common occurrence with the man. The man pushed himself to the absolute limits, limits far beyond those of others. That was the problem, those following him would try to meet his limits, and fail.
Talarius was a natural leader; men would literally follow him into the Abyss and back. Unfortunately, the only one who would make it back would be Talarius. Not intentionally, that was what was so infuriating about the man. He had no concept of overwhelming odds. He would gladly charge into any situation. The more dangerous the better. It was as if he had a death wish, although, Barabus knew that to be patently not the case.
Actually, whatever it was, it seemed to work for Talarius. There was very little that could be considered overwhelming odds for the knight. Barabus had literally seen the man slay two second order demons, who had popped out of nowhere one morning before breakfast, using nothing more than two daggers and while wearing only his undergarments.
Again, and he wished he could let this go: the problem was that the same was not true for those unlucky enough to be swayed into following him. He’d blindly lead men into battle, emerging unscathed but alone. True, he might seem to grieve a little for his lost men, but then he’d exclaim that they’d died in a noble cause and for the greater glory, and be off again to another battle. That was it, actually, if Barabus would admit it to himself. Perhaps it wasn’t so much the losing men in battle, but that the man could be so unemotional about it. Sometimes it was if the man were made of stone and couldn’t feel pain, or loss. Soldiers dealt with death all the time; they had to be strong. Talarius just seemed unnaturally strong.
Barabus didn’t like the attitude such lack of emotion engendered. It got too many good people killed, for insufficient reasons in his mind. If one didn’t feel the deaths of others, it was too easy to became callous in regard to life. Perhaps the worst of this was that he couldn’t argue with Talarius about it. The man firmly believed that conquering evil, facing the challenges posed by Tiernon, was sufficient reason for anything. ‘Evil in itself is reason enough; because it’s there, it must be conquered,’ Talarius had once told Barabus.
War Arrow, as Talarius called his horse, landed in a free space that had been set aside by Barabus for just such a landing. Awed and respectful soldiers stood around, watching as the greatest Knight of Tiernon, many said the greatest knight in Astlan, dismounted his horse. Josen, a lad who’d served with Talarius before was standing near to take War Arrow’s reins. The fully armored knight gently patted the boy on the back as he handed over the reins.
As always, Barabus shook his head at the knight. Any normal man wearing such an incredible set of plate armor would have been clunky and clumsy to the point of needing help to move once he got off his horse. Talarius in full battle regalia was more agile and dexterous than most men naked. He was literally the paladin of myths; he made even the most difficult of actions look graceful and skilled. Talarius returned the respectful nods of the soldiers he passed as he made his way to Barabus. A path opening as if by magic to give him room.
He came up to Barabus and gracefully removed his full helm. He shook his head and his blond ponytail came free over the back of his armor. His blue eyes matching the smile on his lips as he tucked his helm under one arm and raised the other, with his sword, in salute to Barabus. “Hail Arch-Vicar General Barabus! I Talarius, humble servant and knight of Tiernon, salute you as we prepare once again to fight the good fight!”
Barabus nodded formally, receiving the salute, and then raised his bare hand in a return salute. “Hail Talarius, Knight Rampant of Tiernon. Your presence is most welcome in our coming battle with the minions of the Concordenax.”
“Let the Rod be drawn.”
“Let the Will be done,” returned Talarius.
“As Tiernon’s fight is won.” The two completed the ritualistic phrase in unison with the soldiers of the Rod around them. Swords and staves rattled against shields in a thundering roar.
“So General,” Talarius said, as he placed his helmet on the table. He and Barabus had just entered Barabus’ tent. The knight was down to business now; there was a war on. “What exactly are we up against? Iskerus wasn’t able to give me all of the details.”
“Well,” sighed Barabus, “that’s part of our problem. We don’t really know. What we do know is that an Archaedemon subverted the works of Verigas, our high priest in Gizzor Del. The subversion allowed the demon to enter Astlan bringing one or two other powerful demons with it, and what appeared to be human wizards. It is Verigas’ belief that the demon intends to march to Freehold, where it will, either itself, or through the aid of its pet wizards summon forth its horde.”
“How much do you trust this Verigas? And his story?”
“Fairly well, we both did the Test of Truth on him while he recanted. He certainly believes it. Further investigation of the location of the subversion confirms Verigas’ story, at least as much as possible.” Talarius nodded his head to the side, acknowledging what Barabus told him.
“Further, we have a brother who has had Visions.”