cult embraced the legends and fables that surrounded Mancer. You must beware of them.”
“Oh, yes.”
Moore gave a resigned smile. “Whatever you think or know about that, Shadow Killer, we did hold the line at the Battle of Crescent Plain.” Moore’s voice waivered, slightly, “We took huge casualties, but we held the line.”
“I know you did,” Shadow Killer tapped his fingers against his thigh, “but the victory was tainted by the death of King Karl Rothgal, the massacre at the field hospital, and the disappearance of Richard Heart.”
“Yes,” both men agreed, sadly.
“We became a shadow of our former selves,” began Peter, “and split into two factions – the warrior chapter, which went on to serve with distinction at the last Great War, and a monastic chapter, which was tasked to discover the truth behind Mancer.”
Shadow Killer looked puzzled. “I seem to be asking this a lot, but – why?”
“Why the need for the truth?”
“Yes.”
“We needed to know if the sacrifice of so many men was worth it. We needed to know if the code we live and die by – ‘ We stand when no one else will’ – was a fabric of lies or if there was an element of truth in it.” Peter shrugged his shoulders.
“Does it actually matter?” said Shadow Killer.
“Of course it matters!” Andrew eyes were bright with anger. “Of course it matters,” he repeated, calming himself as he spoke. “If there is truth in the legend, then our men died upholding a noble belief. If the legend was all lies, then they died for nothing.”
“Semantics,” Shadow Killer scorned. Eyeing the men carefully, he continued, “Why do you need me?”
“The truth?”
“I prefer it.”
Andrew took a deep breath. “The legend and myth is too much interwoven with the truth that it is impossible to tell which is which. We needed to talk with someone who had been around when Hubert Mancer was alive, who knew him.”
“But we could not just march in and ask you,” added Peter.
“True,” agreed Shadow Killer.
“So we set a trap, or a puzzle, if you prefer.”
“For me?”
“Yes,” admitted Peter, “we know you don’t like secrets or mysteries, so we created one by claiming the Dark Prophecy as ours and insisting it was known as the Mancer Prophecy.”
“So once you had captured me, how were you going to stop me killing you?” grinned Shadow Killer.
“Our prophecy has an additional verse.”
Very slowly and very deliberately, Shadow Killer said, “An additional verse.”
“Yes,” both men replied.
“I knew there was something else.” Shadow Killer rubbed his chin. “And what does this additional verse say?”
“What was Mancer like?”
“How do I know there is an additional verse?”
“How do we know you will tell the truth about Mancer?”
“You don’t.”
“Then we seem to be at stand-off.”
“Unfortunately,” said Peter, sadly.
Shadow Killer sighed and closed his eyes. He did not have time to play this game. He needed to get back to the palace. “So you want to know about Hubert Mancer?”
“Yes,” they both replied.
Shadow Killer turned to look at the two men. “Then let me tell you a story of his youth. It was during one of the many border wars between Zarekland and Yeris. Mancer’s regiment, the Third Lowland Regiment of the kingdom of Zarekland, was stationed near the border. His company, the Fifth, was defending a section of the line near a local farm. This farm had become a refuge for local women and children fleeing the horrors of the fighting.
“Information had come through that the enemy was going to make a push near the farmhouse within the hour. The officer in charge of the company decided that they should pull back a mile down the road and dig in. When the sergeant asked about the women and children, he was told they were acceptable losses.
“As the company was starting to march away, Mancer broke
“Oh, yes.”
Moore gave a resigned smile. “Whatever you think or know about that, Shadow Killer, we did hold the line at the Battle of Crescent Plain.” Moore’s voice waivered, slightly, “We took huge casualties, but we held the line.”
“I know you did,” Shadow Killer tapped his fingers against his thigh, “but the victory was tainted by the death of King Karl Rothgal, the massacre at the field hospital, and the disappearance of Richard Heart.”
“Yes,” both men agreed, sadly.
“We became a shadow of our former selves,” began Peter, “and split into two factions – the warrior chapter, which went on to serve with distinction at the last Great War, and a monastic chapter, which was tasked to discover the truth behind Mancer.”
Shadow Killer looked puzzled. “I seem to be asking this a lot, but – why?”
“Why the need for the truth?”
“Yes.”
“We needed to know if the sacrifice of so many men was worth it. We needed to know if the code we live and die by – ‘ We stand when no one else will’ – was a fabric of lies or if there was an element of truth in it.” Peter shrugged his shoulders.
“Does it actually matter?” said Shadow Killer.
“Of course it matters!” Andrew eyes were bright with anger. “Of course it matters,” he repeated, calming himself as he spoke. “If there is truth in the legend, then our men died upholding a noble belief. If the legend was all lies, then they died for nothing.”
“Semantics,” Shadow Killer scorned. Eyeing the men carefully, he continued, “Why do you need me?”
“The truth?”
“I prefer it.”
Andrew took a deep breath. “The legend and myth is too much interwoven with the truth that it is impossible to tell which is which. We needed to talk with someone who had been around when Hubert Mancer was alive, who knew him.”
“But we could not just march in and ask you,” added Peter.
“True,” agreed Shadow Killer.
“So we set a trap, or a puzzle, if you prefer.”
“For me?”
“Yes,” admitted Peter, “we know you don’t like secrets or mysteries, so we created one by claiming the Dark Prophecy as ours and insisting it was known as the Mancer Prophecy.”
“So once you had captured me, how were you going to stop me killing you?” grinned Shadow Killer.
“Our prophecy has an additional verse.”
Very slowly and very deliberately, Shadow Killer said, “An additional verse.”
“Yes,” both men replied.
“I knew there was something else.” Shadow Killer rubbed his chin. “And what does this additional verse say?”
“What was Mancer like?”
“How do I know there is an additional verse?”
“How do we know you will tell the truth about Mancer?”
“You don’t.”
“Then we seem to be at stand-off.”
“Unfortunately,” said Peter, sadly.
Shadow Killer sighed and closed his eyes. He did not have time to play this game. He needed to get back to the palace. “So you want to know about Hubert Mancer?”
“Yes,” they both replied.
Shadow Killer turned to look at the two men. “Then let me tell you a story of his youth. It was during one of the many border wars between Zarekland and Yeris. Mancer’s regiment, the Third Lowland Regiment of the kingdom of Zarekland, was stationed near the border. His company, the Fifth, was defending a section of the line near a local farm. This farm had become a refuge for local women and children fleeing the horrors of the fighting.
“Information had come through that the enemy was going to make a push near the farmhouse within the hour. The officer in charge of the company decided that they should pull back a mile down the road and dig in. When the sergeant asked about the women and children, he was told they were acceptable losses.
“As the company was starting to march away, Mancer broke
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