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4.17 - The Shield of the Crusader

  Despite first appearances and the fact that we no longer had to contend with hundreds of metres of trap strewn halls, retrieving the Shield of the Crusader was neither quick nor easy. The rest of the fort may have been an elaborate ruse but the original builders ensured nothing was left to chance. For the rest of the afternoon and a good portion of the following day we laboured within the keep, levering and hauling the fifty kilogram stones from the floor where Thedret had marked, relying upon Falid and Mazoga’s impressive strength in order to shift them away. By the time we had finished moving the stones we had managed to excavate a chest deep hole before we found what we were looking for.

  The size of the steel box and the complete and utter lack of ornamentation did little to allay our growing fears that Thedret and the Knights Mentor were mistaken but after cracking the seals and prying it open we all fell silent. Locked away for two centuries and buried the entire time the Shield, like the other Relics I had seen was immaculate and impossible not to identify. Lovingly placed into the velvet cushioning within the box it was as pure and unmarked as the day it was created but to most of us it was much, much smaller than we expected.

  Little more than a buckler designed to be strapped to the arm and the wrist rather than held, it was a far cry from the enormous Legion tower shields that I was used to. Fashioned into the shape of a diamond with the points cut away, it was less than my forearm wide, but twice a long in height. While there was no doubting the overwhelming power of the relic I realised that it was not designed for the same style of fighting as the other shields I was used to, and was much more suited for combat on the back of a horse than on foot. Falid commented that it appeared suitable for fighting with a weapon using both hands, and I for one agreed with him, especially how his knowledge of fighting with larger weapons surpassed the rest of us.

  After staying our third night in the area we departed the fort in a group exponentially larger than the one we had arrived in. The remaining Black Bows were loaded into a collection of barges that had arrived from some of the other nearby Argonian villages as the word of our success spread. For the most part they didn’t show any signs of resistance, especially after the two that were killed in their attempts to attack us and the three that tried their luck fleeing into the marshes. Their fate in particular was left as a mystery but the blood curdling screams and the roaring that echoed out of the night after one escaped had thoroughly discouraged the rest.

  The local villages had also sent handfuls of their population to assist, and while many were no healthier than the first we had encountered their assistance in herding our prisoners was invaluable. They also greatly assisted our journey back to the larger settlements which ensured that after a short two-day journey we found ourselves back within comparative civilisation and handing our charges over to the authorities.

  Much to Viconia’s amusement, the bounties we received for the remaining bandits was surprisingly considerable once the authorities were convinced of their identities and any attempts to cheat or swindle us were dealt with. When we left the township and our collection of grateful guides from the liberated villages we did so with a considerable amount of gold and silver coins as well as our recovered artefact.

  The return journey was very much the same as our journey to Blackmarsh although there was much more resting than before. All of our injuries had ensured that we were able to do little more than rest, recuperate and see to our arms and armour that had taken just as much of a battering as we had. Much would have to wait for the attentions of a smithy or armourer to receive more than patching and cleaning but by the time we laid eyes on Leyawiin we were positively bouncing and riding on the waves of our success.

  Word of our success had proven to be much faster than the river carrack we returned on, once again proving that the messenger posts continued their service in spreading news at a breakneck pace. When we finally moored onto Leyawiin’s docks an enormous crowd was rapidly building, kept at bay only by the cohort’s worth of guards, the ship’s sailors and a handful of Knights of the White Stallion sent to escort us to the Stallion Lodge. As far as I could tell there were easily several hundred citizens and faithful straining for a glimpse of one of Pelinal’s Relics or the individuals responsible for its successful retrieval. As sailors swore and guards bellowed and pushed the crowd back we managed to disembark and make our way through the docks and out of the city towards the lodge.

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  Our reception was also very similar, as every member or individual affiliated with the Order in any way was there in person to welcome us back and I was mildly amused to see that there was no fanfare or the like awaiting us. Just a sea of grinning faces until someone started clapping and left the entire lodge shaking from the overwhelming applause and cheering from the hundreds of Knights, Squires, Men-at-Arms, servants and craftsmen that made up the Order’s ranks.

  Sir Ramauld was standing at the end of the great hall, a smile splitting his enormous beard and being flanked by his two remaining Knight-Captains Sir Niseus and Madame B’ivin. For a moment I almost stopped in place, as the way the applause and cheering was threating my calm was suddenly compounded as I realised that the Count and Countess Caro were also present. Their handful of chosen Men-at-Arms and a small gaggle of courtiers and other dignitaries were joining in on the cheering, their presence somehow more off putting than that of an entire knightly order. At that moment I would have preferred to singlehandedly face down the hordes of Oblivion and all of Nirn’s monstrosities than continue being within the heart of such public acclaim.

  “You all know how to make an entrance.” Sir Ramauld said, raising his voice to allow it to carry over the thundering noise filling the stallion lodge.

  I barely had time to brace myself before the enormous Nordic Knight grasped my hand tightly in a bone crushing grip that lasted barely a second before he moved to the others in our group. One by one he gripped everyone by the hand and his example led to us being swamped by his Knight Captains, the Count and the other attending dignitaries.

  “Well, at least it appears that you both have learned how to share glory.” The noise had died off as we finished receiving the personal congratulations, which allowed Count Caro’s voice to carry across the hundreds pressing in around us. For a few seconds there was a ripple of amusement throughout the crowd as our group spread ourselves into a rough line before them.

  “When I knighted you both,” He continued, delight written across every line of his face as he addressed Viconia and myself. “I did so to honour your accomplishments, not to challenge you to outdo them.”

  “What can I say my lord? We like testing ourselves.”

  Breaking into a massive grin, he turned and looked at one particular individual in the centre of our party with the priceless relic in his hands. Thedret had willing followed us on the journey but he had refused to let the Shield out of his sight and care beyond the briefest of moments. Now dressed in partially reclaimed and recovered armour, the relic was clutched protectively in his mailed hands in a way that allowed everyone to gaze upon it and Count Caro nodded appreciatively to the young Knight.

  “All of your deeds are now beyond legendary, and you all have accomplished what most have considered impossible. Leyawiin, Cyrodiil, the Empire, and even I owe you all immensely for what you have done.” Slowly he looked over us all, seeing the way that we stood there filled with pride by clearly showing the hardships of our journey. His eyes came to rest on Alexi, standing tall despite the fact that his pure white tabard was now a stained grey and face twisted into a permanent smile from the jagged scar on his cheek. “Is it true that Greagious and the Black Bows are no more?”

  Alexi nodded. “It is true my Lord. Greagious was slain by my own hand and his lieutenants were killed by Kaius. The rest are either dead or in captivity.”

  For the briefest of moments all of the years that Count Caro lived landed heavily on his shoulders but there was satisfaction in the way that he slumped. “I…” he began, pausing and physically correcting himself. “My family, thanks you all for what you have done. We are in your debt sir Knights.”

  The young Countess moved over towards her husband and I couldn’t help but notice the way that her hand flowed down his arm briefly before entwining their fingers together. It was a simple, regal motion that on the surface appeared to be a formality but I could see the way that the older Count took solace in his second wife’s presence. Her face might have been as harsh and arrogant as she had appeared all those months ago but she too was struggling not to show some sign of satisfaction or gratitude to us all.

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