Read Online The Education of Brother Thaddius and other tales of DemonWars (The DemonWars Saga) by R.A. Salvatore - Free Book Online
Authors: R.A. Salvatore
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here is ended,” Pony replied. She hugged Midalis. “Rule well — I know you shall! For me, I will spend my time in Dundalis, back home again. How long ago, it seems, when Elbryan and I would run carelessly about the caribou moss, awaiting the hunters’ return or hoping for a glimpse of the Halo.”
Pony stepped back and motioned to the side, to her son and his two companions sitting in the shade of the wall.
Braumin’s gaze went that way. The centaur stood up – Pony had healed his broken leg so completely that he barely limped now, only hours later. Yet another reminder of the power of this woman, Braumin thought.
He couldn’t help himself. “Wait!” he called and he ran over to Pony and Midalis. “Wait, I beg!”
Pony greeted him with a great hug.
“I cannot believe you are leaving us,” the monk said, and he wouldn’t let her go. He wanted to say so much more! He wanted to tell her that he and his brothers had discussed the prospect of handing her the Abellican Church, to serve as the first Mother Abbess! It would be a monumental action. It would change the world! Surely she could not refuse such an opportunity…
Before Bishop Braumin could begin to spout out the many thoughts swirling in his mind, though, Pony replied, “You have your church to restore, and I have my son to save.”
It wasn’t just what she said, but how she had expressed it, and that included a bit of magic, Braumin realized, as the woman used her soul stone to speak within his heart and mind.
You have your church to restore
.
You. Bishop Braumin. Pony wasn’t simply making an off-handed and obvious remark about the state of the world, she was charging Braumin with this most important duty. She was giving him her blessing – nay, her demand – that repairing the broken Abellican Church, the institution that had suffered so greatly under the De’Unneran Heresy, fell squarely upon the shoulders of Bishop Braumin Herde.
And indeed, this would prove a heavy burden, the monk knew. The Abellican Church lay in ruins. So many brothers had been killed or driven out by De’Unnero’s minions, and many of those minions, fanatically loyal to the vile man, remained in positions of power at various chapels and even abbeys! Other chapels were empty and in disrepair, and even one of the great abbeys, St. Gwendolyn by the Sea, was now by all reports a deserted and haunted place.
Braumin Herde gave a great sigh. A sniffle from behind turned him to regard his dearest friend, Master Marlboro Viscenti, standing there with his head bowed.
“What better place to save him than St.-Mere-Abelle?” Braumin slyly remarked, more forViscenti’s sensibilities than his own.
For Braumin already knew the answer, and he was already nodding as Pony replied, “Dundalis.”
True to her word, Pony left later that same day, with Bradwarden, Juraviel and her son Aydrian, bound for the Timberlands and the town of Dundalis.
From a high window in the monastery, Bishop Braumin and Master Viscenti watched them go, and knew the truth: Pony would never return to Honce-the-Bear.
“We have a lot of work to do, my friend,” Braumin remarked, trying to sound as optimistic as he could manage – and surely he thought the attempt pitiful. “I fear that our struggle has only just begun.”
“No,” Viscenti said, draping an arm about his friend’s broad shoulders. When Braumin turned to regard him, he found Viscenti staring at him intently, and nodding.
“No,” the skinny man said again. “The demon is expelled and King Midalis will help us as we help him. A lot to do, yes, but we go with honest hearts and a desire to do good things. We will prevail.”
It wasn’t often that Viscenti served as the calming and optimistic voice.
Braumin was glad that this was one of those rare occasions. He dropped his hand over Viscenti’s, and looked back out at the distant procession, hearing again the words of Pony, the charge that he must fix the Abellican Church.
He
Pony stepped back and motioned to the side, to her son and his two companions sitting in the shade of the wall.
Braumin’s gaze went that way. The centaur stood up – Pony had healed his broken leg so completely that he barely limped now, only hours later. Yet another reminder of the power of this woman, Braumin thought.
He couldn’t help himself. “Wait!” he called and he ran over to Pony and Midalis. “Wait, I beg!”
Pony greeted him with a great hug.
“I cannot believe you are leaving us,” the monk said, and he wouldn’t let her go. He wanted to say so much more! He wanted to tell her that he and his brothers had discussed the prospect of handing her the Abellican Church, to serve as the first Mother Abbess! It would be a monumental action. It would change the world! Surely she could not refuse such an opportunity…
Before Bishop Braumin could begin to spout out the many thoughts swirling in his mind, though, Pony replied, “You have your church to restore, and I have my son to save.”
It wasn’t just what she said, but how she had expressed it, and that included a bit of magic, Braumin realized, as the woman used her soul stone to speak within his heart and mind.
You have your church to restore
.
You. Bishop Braumin. Pony wasn’t simply making an off-handed and obvious remark about the state of the world, she was charging Braumin with this most important duty. She was giving him her blessing – nay, her demand – that repairing the broken Abellican Church, the institution that had suffered so greatly under the De’Unneran Heresy, fell squarely upon the shoulders of Bishop Braumin Herde.
And indeed, this would prove a heavy burden, the monk knew. The Abellican Church lay in ruins. So many brothers had been killed or driven out by De’Unnero’s minions, and many of those minions, fanatically loyal to the vile man, remained in positions of power at various chapels and even abbeys! Other chapels were empty and in disrepair, and even one of the great abbeys, St. Gwendolyn by the Sea, was now by all reports a deserted and haunted place.
Braumin Herde gave a great sigh. A sniffle from behind turned him to regard his dearest friend, Master Marlboro Viscenti, standing there with his head bowed.
“What better place to save him than St.-Mere-Abelle?” Braumin slyly remarked, more forViscenti’s sensibilities than his own.
For Braumin already knew the answer, and he was already nodding as Pony replied, “Dundalis.”
True to her word, Pony left later that same day, with Bradwarden, Juraviel and her son Aydrian, bound for the Timberlands and the town of Dundalis.
From a high window in the monastery, Bishop Braumin and Master Viscenti watched them go, and knew the truth: Pony would never return to Honce-the-Bear.
“We have a lot of work to do, my friend,” Braumin remarked, trying to sound as optimistic as he could manage – and surely he thought the attempt pitiful. “I fear that our struggle has only just begun.”
“No,” Viscenti said, draping an arm about his friend’s broad shoulders. When Braumin turned to regard him, he found Viscenti staring at him intently, and nodding.
“No,” the skinny man said again. “The demon is expelled and King Midalis will help us as we help him. A lot to do, yes, but we go with honest hearts and a desire to do good things. We will prevail.”
It wasn’t often that Viscenti served as the calming and optimistic voice.
Braumin was glad that this was one of those rare occasions. He dropped his hand over Viscenti’s, and looked back out at the distant procession, hearing again the words of Pony, the charge that he must fix the Abellican Church.
He
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