Keritanima was wrapped in an icy resolve. The Ward prevented her from locating Tarrin, but she was still searching the fringes of the barrier, seeking any hint of him should he cross through it. She would not allow them to keep him. He was her brother, and that term meant alot more to her now than it did only a month ago. Allia stood beside her, just as grim and foreboding, and they were both feeling the same rage and fury. They were true sisters, and they were getting their brother back. They had been through too much together for her to abandon him now. She had never believed that she could ever feel the way she did for anyone, but she had to admit that she did. Tarrin was her brother, her friend, her dear companion, and without him, her life seemed empty. The very thought of him being lost to her filled her with a nameless dread, and caused a fury in her so towering that she would be willing to fight the entire Cathedral with her bare hands to get him out of there. She had no idea what was going on, how they were treating him. They could be torturing him!
"Come on," she told Allia in a tight voice. "Darvon, Manx, Azakar, with us," she called. "Let's go knock on their door."
Binter and Sisska moved up behind the Princess with their huge hammer and axe, a truly formidable barrier to any who wished to do her Highness harm, and the group of very dangerous people dismounted and started across the plaza. It took them a moment to reach the huge, bronze-inlaid double doors that led into the Nave, with the Hammer and Scales of Karas etched into that burnished golden covering. Azakar took one door and Binter took the other, and they pushed them open with a sudden jerk that made them boom against their thresholds on the far side.
That sound caused the chanting voice of the High Priest of Karas, a short, pudgy man standing on a pulpit on the far side of the massive chamber, to falter. He looked up the long row of pews, at the wildly mismatched group of people entering the church, and did not pick his sermon back up. The church was very full, and almost all of them, commoners and nobles alike, dressed in their best, turned to look as the group of grim-looking visitors moved into the main gallery.
Keritanima strode in with a look and demeanor that anyone would take for a Queen, her amber eyes blazing as she kept them locked on the pudgy man standing on the pulpit behind the altar. It was a flat look, one of icy danger, and it made the priest slightly uncomfortable.
"All are welcome in the house of Karas," he said in an urbane voice. "Please, take a seat, my children, and we will continue the sermon. There is no shame in being late."
That caused a few light chuckles, but Keritanima's cold expression did not change. "You will release Tarrin Kael, and you will release him now," she said in a savage voice. "If he is not standing before me in five minutes, I'll have my Marines and your own Knights raze this cathedral to the ground."
"There is no call for this, threatening," the priest said in a calm voice. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, um, Inititate."
"You will address me as Princess Keritanima," she snapped. And for the first time, she meant it. "Darvon," she barked.
"My Lord Irvon, you are holding the Knight Tarrin Kael within this building. You will release him immediately, or the Knights will take him by force. And as you've heard, we've had her Highness bless us with support from her own Marines, as well as a complement of katzh-dashi from the Tower. We have the cathedral surrounded, and the katzh-dashi have Warded this entire area against magic to prevent your acolytes from trying anything foolish."
The man gave the Lord General a look, and then it paled into one of pure horror.
"We know he is here, Lord Irvon," Darvon said calmly, but there was steel behind his eyes. "We will take him when you give him to us, or we will take him after bringing this cathedral down around your ears. Either way, we will take him. The choice of how it is done is yours."
The man Irvon looked unable to speak, but then he somehow got his composure back. The congregation began to whisper and gasp, murmuring excitedly among themselves as they drank in Darvon's words. "You are free to search, my Lord General," Irvon said in a strained voice. "I'll file my people out of here under guard and let you comb the cathedral, but I assure you, you will not find anyone that does not wish to be here. There is no need for violence or destruction."
"Then start turning your people out, Irvon," Keritanima said coldly. "Darvon, bring in a company of Knights to assist the priests with their evacuation of the Cathedral. Just so nobody gets overlooked."
"That is ridiculous!" Irvon said. "I am being very accommodating to you, people, just by offering to empty the Cathedral so you can put your minds at ease. But sending in armed men to take my people prisoner goes just a bit too far. I give you my word as a priest of Karas that we will cooperate with you."
"That word means spit to me, Lord Irvon," Keritanima snapped hotly, making many of the onlookers gasped. "I really don't care how ridiculous you think it is. You can let the Knights escort them out, or you can pick up their remains when my Marines storm this building and kill anything that moves. It's your choice."
Irvon paled again, and stared at Keritanima in shock. "You would dare-"
"I dare anything," she interrupted, glaring at him. "Binter," she said bluntly. "I think the Lord High Priest is stalling. Would you go up there and brain him for me?"
The monstrous Vendari started ahead of the Princess, his massive warhammer held lightly in his right hand, his black eyes flat and promising death as he advanced up the central aisle to a cacophony of gasps and not a few screams from the congregation. "No!" Irvon said in a strangled tone, even as a group of armed priests quickly formed up around the altar and pulpit. "Alright, alright! I'll do as you ask!"
Binter looked back to Keritanima, who only motioned with her head. He turned and moved back towards her, and the entire popluated Nave sighed in relief. It was in that moment of silence that it was heard.
It was faint, but it was very audible. It was a rolling, howling cry, the ear-keening call of a Troll, the sound they made while fighting.
"Troll!" Darvon said immediately, reaching for his sword.
"Binter," Keritanima said sharply, "where did that come from?"
"It came from beneath us," Allia answered for him, kneeling and putting a four-fingered hand on the floor. "It is under here."
"What's under the floor, Darvon?" Keritanima asked.
"The crypt," he replied uncertainly.
Eyes widening, Keritanima turned and fled back up the aisle, leaving the others confused. She had no time to explain. She burst through the open door, pointing towards Lilenne and screaming in a very impressive, booming voice.
"Lower the Ward, Lilenne! Lower the Ward NOW!"
Panting, the Cat wasn't sure if it could take this enemy.
He was covered in blood, both his own and that of his foes, and it had been a long and brutal path. Tarrin had been stabbed, slashed, hacked, poked, and slammed by a myriad of weapons, weapons that the Cat completely ignored. But the constant regeneration had began to slow, and it slowed more and more as he was injured by those who opposed him. The regenerative abilities he enjoyed were quasi-magical, but they still drew strength from his body to operate, and that strength was nearly gone. Wounds that would have sealed instantly if he were refreshed were taking long, long moments to slowly knit together now, and it had left his body weary and his reflexes slowed. His body was tiring out, and even the Cat understood that he had to get free soon, before he was left incapable of healing a mortal blow.