Chapter 2

The Monks at Antar
Garret clutched the soft pillow and turned fitfully in his warm, downy bed. The sound of birds could be heard through the window and a gentle, warm breeze caressed his cheek. Garret turned once more in his bed and then slowly, groggily came to his senses. He sat up wearily and wiped his sleep blurred eyes and took in what was around him.
At first he was very confused. He could not understand what had happened, he remembered helping his mother with some chores, and picking berries. Now, however, he was in a strange foreign room, sleeping on a soft bed that was not his, and wearing a clean, white, cotton shirt that was softly hung from his narrow shoulders.
Then he remembered what had happened. His parents were dead, and he was alone. With that realization he felt fat, wet tears welling up in his eyes. He rubbed his eyes vigorously and felt determined to be finished crying for now. At least until he knew where he was and what was going on, mostly he was unsure what to feel. He knew he was safe, but the loss of his parents so fresh that he could hardly bear to think about it.
With a ragged, tearful, breath he got out of bed and for the first time began to take in the details of where he was. The walls and ceiling were made from the same dull grey stone. The floors, however, where made from a tough blonde wood. As we walked about the room he could tell that this was an older building, the floors were weathered and the stones had been worn smooth by time. A small wooden chest sat at the foot of the bed. The walls, for the most part, were bare and it was clear that someone had taken great care to keep this place clean.
He walked over towards the window and caught his breath as he looked out. He had never seen anything like this. As he looked he could now see he was on the second floor of, what could best be described as, a castle of sorts. Not the fancy castles that fine lords and ladies live in, but the rough kinds that were used in war. He knew there was a better word for it, but he could not recall it now for the life of him. Stretched out below him was a flat green field that ran all the way over to the far walls. These walls must have been at least thirty feet tall, and were topped with battlements and ramparts. He leaned a little forward and he could feel himself tingling with anxiety as he saw how high up he was.
To his left he could see a well and another building. It was dotted with windows and must have been a kind of boarding house. To his right he could see a fenced in field where several horses and some cattle stood grazing. Several men could be seen below moving about. He could see now that something did not quite seem to make sense. None of these men looked like any soldier he had ever heard of. In fact the looked more like the monks he had seen when he went with his father into town to sell grain. Actually the more he thought about it the more he realized the looked exactly like the monks from the Antar Monastery. For some reason that made Garret feel a little more at ease. These men were known for their kindness and gentle dispositions.
Garret jumped a little as he heard the door creak open behind him. He quickly turned about and saw the door slowly crack open and a shaven head peek through and look over at the bed. When it was clear to whoever was looking that no one was in the bed, Garret spoke up.
“Hello?” Garret asked towards the errant head. Then it was the bald mans turn to jump at the sound of Garrets voice. He turned to see the young man standing by the window. Now that Garret had a chance to look at him more closely he could see that it was Brother Micah, the monk that had found him at the farm house. “Micah? Where am I? What happened at my house? What’s going on?” All these questions fired off in rapid succession as Garret hurried across the room to the smiling face of the monk. He could not explain it, but Garret felt a strange affinity for this man, who he thought of as his rescuer.
“Slow down, child, slow down!” Micah smiled reassuringly at the young boy as Garret rushed to greet him. “You have asked several questions, but I am afraid I can only faithfully answer some of them. But first I imagine you will want to change into some day clothes, and have some breakfast. And I’m afraid that you have me at something of a disadvantage my son, for we have not had the chance to hear your name.” Garret paused a moment to consider, and realized that they wouldn’t know because he had been resting since they had first picked him up.
“My name is Garret,” he said in a rather proud voice, it was all he had left. He had been named for his grandfather, a man he knew to have been a kind, honest, and brave man before he had passed away a few years ago. “And I would very much like something to eat, and some clothes to wear about, thank you sir.” As he said the last he bowed slightly, in what he hoped was a very polite manner.
“No need to bow, Garret, I am just a novice monk. And you called me Micah before so I see no harm in continuing that trend.” He grinned slightly as he talked and placed a loving hand on Garrets shoulder. He was finding the young man in front of him rather amusing. “There will be some fresh clothes over here; some of the people in town donated a few things that they thought would fit.” He showed Garret to the small wooden chest that lay at the foot of the bed Garret had been sleeping in. As Micah opened it Garret noticed a strange emblem on the front of it. The symbol looked to be golden cross, though broken down the middle, on a black field with a silver crescent moon behind it. He considered asking about it, but decided to wait until his other questions had been answered first.
Once the chest was open Garret removed a dark grey shirt and a simple tan pair of linen pants. A thin woven belt lay in the chest as well, so he used it to cinch the slightly too large pants around his waist. Once he was fully dressed Micah took him by the hand and showed to the way to the kitchen.
The rest of the building was much the same as the room he had slept in. The same light colored wood served a floor, and for the most part the walls were left bare except for the occasional wall sconce or worn tapestry. Some of the tapestries bore the same symbol that he had seen on the chest in his room. Garret was led down a long, winding staircase and led through a large hall. It may have once served as a gathering for court, but now looked as though it was for religious purposes.
“This Keep had belonged to the Templars, before the Great Wall was built. They abandoned it during the Goblin Wars, almost 60 years ago.” Micah said quietly as they walked through the huge room. “This room used to be great hall, where the Knight-Marshall of this Fort held council. Since we have moved in we decided it would better serve as a chapel, Sol willing.” As Micah invoked the name of the deity, Sol, he bowed his head in reverence. Garret stared with wide eyes, this used to be a Templar Fortress! What an amazing thought. Those great, powerful knights were well known all across Sacrimore, even as far north as Garret lived. His heart raced a little at the thought of those heroic men fighting back the hordes of monsters in this very place. He had imagined himself performing those same deeds in the clearing by the stream only a few days ago.
“You may have noticed their crest here in the main keep. It’s the same symbol that’s on the chest in your room.” Micah said as they left the great hall and turned down a long corridor. “The kitchen is right down here, it’s really much larger than we need, but we occasionally use all of it on holidays, for feeding the poor. Ah there’s that crest.” Micah said as he pointed out a large tapestry that carried the symbol Garret had been so curious about before. Garret began smiled again at the thought of the Templar’s being in this same place, decades before, but then a strange fit of melancholy came over him and he stared at his feet holding back tears.
“Here we are,” Micah said as he opened a large, heavy, dark wooden door. As the door opened Garret’s nose was filled immediately with the smell of hearty spices and the smoky scent of meat and eggs gently sizzling on the stove-tops. Inside was a huge kitchen. Copper pots hung shining from the ceiling and large pans lay on top of one of the ovens. Down the middle of the room ran a long tall counter, clearly it would have been used for some kind of food preparation. At the other side of the room several monks were busy at work putting together a large breakfast.
Garret could feel his mouth watering as he looked at the busy monks at the end of the room, his sudden depression vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared. “Right over here, Garret.” Micah showed him through a door to another room. This room had a tall cathedral ceiling and was easily 30 meters in length. A long dark wooden table ran the length of the room. On each side there was an equally long bench that ran parallel to the table made of the same dark, rich wood. A hundred people could have easily fit on either side of the massive table. “Have a seat, Garret, This is where we take all of our meals.”
“Thank you.” Garret said in a hushed voice. He could feel his stomach churning with a sense of hunger as the food continued to be made ready. “How soon can I eat?” Garret asked, realizing after the words had left his mouth that he probably sounded very rude, though he was not sure if he cared at this point.
Micah chuckled and nodded. “Yes I imagine you would be very hungry. The rest of the Brothers will be here very shortly. Monks we may be, but I rarely see any of my brothers miss a meal.” Micah sat down and patted the wood on the bench next to him. “Have a seat, my child, they will be here soon and then we will eat.”
Garret sat down next to him and waited, albeit impatiently. Steadily, but far too slowly for Garrets personal taste, the rest of the monks made there way in to the great dining room. Eventually Garret recognized another of the men that had rescued him, Father Caldren. He was very easy to pick out from the other monks, being one of the few that did not have a shaved head. He had a very serious look, and nodded at Micah as he came in. Another man, this one also had a full head of hair, and also very old, sat at the head of the table. He looked as though he was waiting for something.
Once it seemed that all the monks who possibly could come had made it into the room the older man at the head of the table stood up and began to speak. “I’m sure all of us are aware that we have a guest with us this morning. And while he will have plenty of time to meet all of us, I would like Brother Micah to take a moment and introduce us to this young man.” With that the older man sat down. Garret blushed a little at the attention, and dropped his head to keep from meeting anyone’s gaze.
Micah stood up and cleared his throat before talking, “Thank you Father Ammon, This young brother here is Garret. As many of you know we found him at a burnt farm off the main road to Antar.” When Micah said that Garret could feel those tears from before beginning to work their way back up, but again held them back determined to be strong, the way his father would have been. “He will be staying in the far eastern room and the second floor.” After Micah had finished he sat down and bowed his head. Garret looked around the room and saw that the other monks were doing the same thing, eyes closed, heads bowed. Unsure of what to do, Garret followed suit. He kept his eyes closed for what seemed like an eternity. His stomach continued to growl in protest that none of the food it smelled was making its way into his mouth. He was sure it was highly inappropriate to make those noises, but was unsure what to do about it.
Eventually he felt a soft jab from Micah’s elbow. He looked up and could see that several of the Monks had started to serve out food. Garret turned to Micah and began to speak, but was cut off sharply by the stony looks he received from around the room. He decided it was best to eat in silence, and again dropped his head, trying to avoid the upsetting memories he kept having. The food that made its way around the room seemed to be about the best food that Garret thought he had ever eaten, although some of that may have been hunger speaking.
In time the meal ended and Garret was left sitting alone at the table while the monks busily gathered up the dishes around the table. The sounds of clanking dishes and splashing water could be heard emanating from the kitchen. Garret wanted to help them but was unsure what to do, since everything seemed to be working just fine with him sitting there. Alone he again his thoughts began to drift and his sorrow once again threatened to over take the young boy. Soon they seemed to finish and Micah came back over to him.
“Well, follow me Garret, Father Ammon and Father Caldren want to have a word with you. They are waiting for us outside in the garden.” Micah helped Garret to his feet before continuing to walk. For the first time Garret noticed that his ankle was no longer sore, he would have expected it to ache for several weeks.
“Micah, my I twisted my ankle when I was in the woods, but its not hurting anymore, how is that?” They continued walking as Micah turned his head to respond.
“We monks have some gifts from Sol; one of them is the gift of helping wounds to heal. When we got you back here we noticed your ankle was swollen, and we healed it for you.” The idea of someone magically healing something was almost too much for Garret to handle, he had heard of magic, but had never seen it, and had certainly never had it performed on him.
They set off once more, past the large table and through a set of large double doors that had huge iron bands running across them horizontally to reinforce them. It must have been a left over from when the Templars still lived here. It was a formidable structure and would have taken some work to force entry, not that the monks were worried about forced entry.
As they left through the double doors they came into a lush well manicured garden. The green grass spread all about them, and warm pleasant odors washed over him as they walked down the rough stone path. It seemed that it was mostly filled with various herbs and wild plants, but spread throughout were several flowers of a wide variety of colors; these were most likely the source of the sweet, mild odor. In the middle of the garden the two older monks sat on a low wooden bench next to a clear, clean pool. From the pool water trickled out through long wooden half-pipes and gently sprinkled water out into the various planter boxes that the sun hit and sent a myriad of colors sparkling brilliantly off each green leaf. When the older monks saw the pair walking towards them they stood, Father Ammon smiled in a very kind manner, while Father Caldren had a very serious look on his face and simply nodded to both of them.
“Garret, Brother Micah, please have a seat.” Father Ammon gestured towards the bench opposite the one he had been sitting on only moments before. Once he and Micah sat the older monks sat down as well pulling their robes out a little to keep them from bunching underneath them. “Garret, it’s a pleasure to meet you child. My name is Father Ammon, and my more somber comrade here,” he gestured towards the man who had helped Garret into the wagon some time ago “is Father Caldren. We are the head monks at this Monastery.” Garret nodded his understanding. “You are free to stay here as long as you need, and we are more than happy to have you. If you have any questions of us we would be more than happy to answer them for you.”
“Where exactly am I, sir? How long have I been here? What happened to my family?” Garret had spewed forth all those question in rapid fire. Father Ammon and Father Caldren looked at each other briefly before answering.
“I will tell you what I know, son.” Father Caldren began. “You are at the Monastery at Antar, just outside of Antar proper, I am sure you have been there before.” Garret nodded that he had. “We found you two days ago. We often leave to take the Ceremonial wine that we make here to some of the parishes in the area. On the way back from our last delivery we saw smoke in the sky, thick dark smoke, not the white smoke we expect from the farms in that area. We found you there at the farm; I assume that was your home.” Again Garret nodded, this time he dropped his head little, to keep from meeting anyone eyes as finally the tears won over and began a gentle trickle down his face. He squinted his eyes hard trying to stop the flow, and eventually wiped his cheeks and sniffed as nonchalantly as he could. Father Ammon paused, giving Garret time to collect himself
“There is no shame in crying, Garret. Anyone who claims to be a man must accept his feeling, or they will claim him, never be afraid of feeling sad.” He paused again letting Garret take in a few halting, tearful breaths before continuing. “We know that something terrible had happened there, but the details, I am afraid, only you know for certain.”
Father Caldren paused at this, waiting for some kind of response. When nothing happened he drew in breath to begin speaking but was preemptively cut off by Father Ammon.
“There will be plenty of time for these matters later; I can see that you are still very tired.” Father Ammon leveled a gaze at Micah and smiled. “Brother Micah would you be so kind as to show our guest here around the Monastery, Father Caldren and I will be in the Library if you have need of us. Coming, Father?” The last was said to Caldren who grudgingly stood and straightened his robes before following Father Ammon as he left the garden and headed back into the keep.
Once they were gone Micah and Garret stood and headed out of the garden. “I will give you a brief tour of the Monastery, and introduce you to some of our Brothers.” They walked through a large opening in the wall of the garden and headed to a more open area. Outside he could see that the entry way to the Monastery was on his right, it was a huge portcullis, though he doubted that it had been lowered in decades. In front of him now was the stable that he had seen from his window. A corral stretched from the stable where all the animals were grazing. Inside the simply fenced in corral he could see one of the monks brushing down the grey horse who had pulled the wagon that was at his house.
“Brother Jerran!” Micah called to the monk. He turned and waved before he set own the brush and began to head towards them. “This is Brother Jerran, the stable master here. I believe he used to be a soldier before he joined us.” Indeed Jerran was a large, broad shouldered, man. He reminded Garret of his father, in several ways. He had a thick neck and a ready smile as he walked up to them. The smell of the horse and sweat were on him, another thing that reminded him of his father. He could see the sweat had built up on his face, as the day began to warm up once again.
“Pleasure to meet ya, son!” Jerran said as he gave a hearty slap to Garrets shoulder. Garret winced a little, his shoulder stinging a little. “Oh, sorry little brother, I forget my own strength sometimes. If there’s anything that you need jus’ let me know and I’ll do what I can.” Garret smiled at the man, he was a friendly sort and Garret could tell he was going to like him. “And if yer lookin’ for somethin’ to do, I can always use a hand around here.” He again reached over the low fence once more to give one more pat to Garrets shoulder, though this one was gentler. “Oh, well. Back to work for me, I’ll see you around!” With that the burly monk strolled back over to the now grazing horse, picked up the brush, rolled up his sleeves once more, and continued to bush it out.
“He’s about the nicest monk here, doesn’t talk much about his past though. I think he worked with a mercenary company out of Vale. He’s seen some rough things too, I don’t envy him for that.” Micah was saying this to Garret as they walked away from the stables.
As they continued walking down the simple dirt path that cut its way across the short, well tended grass Garret saw two monks a little ways off that seemed to be arguing with one another. “Who are those two?” Garret asked pointing at the pair as they moved past.
“Them?” Micah laughed a little as he saw them argue. “Those two are Brothers Eric and Tomlon. They are the wine experts here, or should I say they claim to be experts. I’m sure they know plenty, but …well I’ll just leave it at that. It’s not polite for me to speak about the other Brothers that way. Apparently there used to be a vine that grew wild along the coast, which by the way you can see from the eastern side of the north wall, your rooms view is blocked by that building. Anyway, when the monks moved here they began to cultivate the vine and made it for ceremonies. As time went on people heard about it and began to request it from us. So we make several batches now, which are what we sell in town. We trade our wine for some of the other things we need here. Those two are always arguing about something, one says it has too much acidity, the other says that it’s too sweet. I don’t know enough about wine to even care. But it’s a very big deal to both of them.” Micah shook his head as Tomlon and Eric made there way to the other large building next to the keep.
“What’s that building over there?” Garret nodded towards where the two monks had just gone.
“Oh, that building has several functions. The basement, where those two went I’m guessing, is where we keep the wine. The first floor we use to house any some of the monks who did not want to live in the keep or wanted to be over here. And the second floor is our library.” As he talked they continued walking towards the building.
“You have a library?” Garret asked a little awe in his voice. The only book he had ever seen up close was the one his father used to make tally marks for the bushels of grain that he brought to market.
“Oh yes, is there any book in specific you would like to see?” Micah asked as they got closer. ‘I know a lot of boys you’re age are interested in histories, and stories about war. We have several books chronicling the Goblin Wars, as well as the wars between the city-States…” He trailed off when he noticed that Garret was starting to trail behind him, looking at his feet. “Is something wrong?”
Garret shrugged as he spoke “I don’t know how to read. I guess I’m probably too old to learn now too, aren’t I?” His voice caught a little as he talked, if would probably seem silly to men like these that someone didn’t know how to read. Micah laughed after Garret spoke, then covered his mouth and pretended to cough. He could see that Garret’s face was growing a deep red color and that he was staring once more at his feet, thinking he was being made fun of.
“I’m not laughing at you, my dear boy, I’m laughing at myself! Of course what boy your age knows how to read? To old, to old my foot! I was twice your age when I first learned numbers, or letters.” Garret looked up at him hopefully, feeling much better about his situation. Micah could see a little bit of the young boy he must have been before his parents were killed.
“How, er…where could I learn?” Garret asked a little sheepishly.
“I will teach you. And if there is anything that the monks here do that you would like to learn about, just ask them. No one here will refuse to teach you something you have a desire to learn. As a matter of fact, I’m sure Jerran would be more than happy to teach you to ride in exchange for helping him groom those horses.” Micah could tell that Garret was feeling better already. And Garret could feel his small heart racing a little at the thought of learning to really ride a horse; his father had always been upset when he tried to ride their mule back home. He once more pushed back his tears. He knew he would have time to cry again later.
“What will I give you, Brother Micah, what do you do?” Garret asked, wanting to feel like he was useful to someone again.
“Well, I work at the library most days with Father Elwin. I can always use a little help sorting out the books, and distinguishing where they go. So, in order for you to help me I have to teach you to read. Once you can do that we can start putting you to work.” Garret was smiling now, the first real smile he’d had since he had seen his parents killed.
“Micah,” Garret said, now a little more somberly. “I’m still very sad that my parents are gone. When does it stop?” He could feel his tears welling up again, and wanting desperately for that hole in his chest to close up, so he could be normal again.
“It may never go away altogether Garret. When my mother was killed I was down for months, before I joined the monks here. Look to Sol, Garret. That is where you will find help. It’s what helped me, and if I can I will help you find him too.” Garret nodded, oddly feeling a little better knowing that someone else had gotten through something similar before, even though it still felt like his chest was caving in.
The rest of the day went without much incident, Micah telling Garret about the scriptures, and Garret asking many rather insightful questions. Eventually the questions turned to the keep, and after the evening meal, which was held again in silence, Garret asked about the Templars.
“The Templars… Well, let me see. The Templars are men who have dedicated their lives to protecting the weak, defeating evil, and serving Sol. Every year they take applicants, in spring. They will take people from every walk of life, every class, and from every education. You see, not everyone can become a Templar. They are gifted warriors and, or at least I am told, they gain great power over their minds, and over nature. One must be not only spiritually gifted, but emotionally sound.
“It’s an odd thing, we like the Templars, serve Sol. We however have taken a vow of pacifism; we do not believe that it is right to bring harm to another man for any purpose. As a result Sol gives us many gifts: the power to heal, the power to cure disease, and many other talents. To the Templars he gives strength to defend those who are otherwise alone and helpless. I believe it to be a noble calling, though many of the monks disagree with me.” He could tell by looking at him that Garret was excited by this idea. And for the first time the entire day his thoughts were focused entirely away from his loss.
“Maybe if there had been Templars near by, my parents would still be alive. I bet a Templar could have stopped them.” Garret said the last with a fierce determination that surprised Micah, in reality it surprised Garret too, but he could feel a strange thought growing up inside of him.
“That may be Garret, but it is a hard life and few are accepted.” Micah said watching closely for Garrets reaction. Garret furrowed his brow, as though thinking about something very deeply. At last he kind of nodded as though truly making a decision.
“Maybe more people should try to be Templars then. If more people tried and more people made it, then there would be more Templars in the world to help people.” Garret seemed to grow more determined the more he spoke about it. “When could I go? How old do you have to be to try?” Garret almost seemed to plead with Micah, it was obvious that Garret needed to hear this, and needed to know that good could be as strong as evil.
“You have to be at least fourteen; they won’t take anyone too young, and no older than sixteen.” Micah could see steeliness in the boys’ eyes that let him know that this was no idle fancy. Something had sparked inside this young man, and inside he was unwilling to let this idea go. Micah decided then, that whatever this boy needed, he would help him, the world owed him that at least, Sol owed him a chance to right this wrong.
“There is nothing simple about becoming a Knight of Templar, Garret. But if you decide that this is what you want to do then we will talk in the morning. The trials are hard, and you must not only be physically strong, but you must be knowledgeable, wise, patient, and understand Sol’s desires and wishes.”
Garret turned to meet Micah’s gaze. “I would like to talk to you about it in the morning then.” Garret turned to go towards his bedroom. Garret steeled himself, and knew that if there had been someone strong to help his family it may have been different. Garret pushed aside those sad thoughts for now and was determined to be that strong person for someone else. Maybe he could stop something like this in the future. He would certainly find the fair faced, dark haired, sinister man and stop him from his evil once and for all.
Micah smiled and for the first time in years, he felt like he had something really important to do. Micah turned and walked to his room, excited for the next day. This was going to be a challenge he was all too familiar with. Micah could not let Garret fail. Micah knew he had been too weak, but would give Garret all the chances he never had.