The Cavalier - By Jason McWhirter Page 0,135

Jonas.”

“I don’t plan to,” Jonas said seriously. “What about a cavalier’s steed? I had heard that they are granted a steed from their god.”

“After the cavalier passes all the tests and they are officially recognized as a cavalier, they will usually get their steed, armor, and weapons, but these gifts are given by their god and there is no set rule as to when this happens. I can see that you have already received your armor and weapons. The steed may come at any time. Kormac, my horse, came to me the night before my first mission.”

“And they have powers as well?”

“Oh yes, the cavalier’s steed has powers of strength and endurance. They can run continuously without tiring. They can fight and sense evil as you do. They, too, are always perfectly groomed, their armor and coat glistening like it was recently polished and brushed. It is believed that a cavalier should instill strength and courage in others and to do this they must look the part.”

“We will travel to Annure to get some answers. At that point I may leave you and head to Finarth. I have some unfinished business there,” said Kiln.

“I would like to accompany you to Finarth,” replied Jonas hopefully.

“We’ll see, my friend. You may have a different calling. The council at Annure may have other plans for you.”

“But I swore allegiance to King Gavinsteal.”

“That may be, but your calling as a cavalier supersedes any prior oath to a king.”

“He is right, Jonas,” Taleen interjected. “Cavaliers have no allegiance to any one king or land. Their allegiance is to their gods and to all the people of Kraawn. King Gavinsteal knows this and would not hold you to your oath.”

“I see,” replied Jonas, saddened at the thought that he might not be able to see Fil anytime soon. He had missed his friend over the years and hoped that he fared well.

Kiln suddenly stood up, buckling on his sword belt. “Well, I think it’s time we are on our way.”

“I agree,” added Taleen as she also stood. “To Annure, and answers.”

***

Alerion prepared for the summons with infinite care. The demon he was calling was a pit fiend named Ixtofin, and even though Alerion knew the beast’s real name, he must prepare the spell precisely or risk being torn to pieces by this powerful denizen from another plane.

Alerion was a powerful wizard whose real skill was in conjuring. He was not a battle wizard, and although he did have some offensive spells, his skill was in finding and retrieving information. One of the best, though most dangerous, ways of doing that was to conjure beasts from other planes of existence, beasts that were made of magic that could get information in ways that Alerion could not.

Alerion’s chamber was spacious and lined with book shelves filled with old leather bound tomes. Large thick tables of oak lay about randomly, all littered with various beakers, parchments, books, dried herbs, and other items for magical use. To an observer the room would have looked unkempt, but Alerion knew the exact whereabouts of every herb, parchment, and magical component.

The center of the room was empty and that is where Alerion knelt, drawing a four-pointed star with a circle around it. Alerion was not a follower of any one god, but Ulren’s symbol was one of the strongest symbols to use for conjuring. Using a stick of lime to draw the symbol exactly, he made sure that there were no gaps in the lines.

He got up and locked the large oak door, placing the heavy beam down in the locked position so no one would accidentally enter while he was summoning the pit fiend. It could be disastrous if that happened. They could spoil his concentration. Or worse, Ixtofin could use his powers to assault the mind of someone mentally weaker or unprepared, and possess their body temporarily, just long enough to destroy the symbol which acted as the demon’s prison on this plane. A demon cannot leave the interior of the symbol, which was why it was so important that the symbol be drawn perfectly with no gaps.

When the door was locked, Alerion lit four candles made of red dragon fat, a substance so rare and expensive that very few wizards had the means to acquire it unless they were court wizards to a rich king, as was Alerion.

Alerion was kneeling five paces from the symbol as he opened his most prized possession, his book of spells. He had used the

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