Free The Old Ways by David Dalglish

practice in a wide area of trampled dirt, within the small courtyard that stretched between the tower and the outer walls. That morning, Luther stood in its center, a book in hand. A tenth of the Blood Tower’s fighting men stood about, listening as Luther preached in a firm, steady voice. The mere sight sent Daniel’s blood boiling.
    “What is going on here?” he asked, pulling one of his men aside.
    “Just listening,” said the man, though he looked away, as if guilty of something. Daniel bit his tongue as he realized Luther was in mid-prayer. He felt awkward interrupting it, especially when he realized several others were praying along. Karak or Ashhur, Sir Robert had never cared, so long as it didn’t interfere with his soldiers’ duties. Despite his anger, Daniel tried to honor that, and let the priest finish.
    “...and may we always abide by the strength and wisdom of the Lion,” said Luther. “And all those with wisdom say amen.”
    Five or six echoed the word ‘amen’, and for whatever reason, it set the hair on the back of Daniel’s neck to standing. The prayer over, the men scattered, all shooting glances toward Daniel, who approached Luther.
    “A word,” he said, grabbing Luther’s robe by the shoulder.
    “Of course,” Luther said, nothing but calm. “Though remember whose robe you grab, and perhaps show wisdom the next time you would act in anger.”
    Daniel accepted the rebuke, and forced his temper in check. Their situation was no less precarious now than it had been at the priests’ first arrival.
    “My apologies,” Daniel said dryly. “But this place is for my men to train every morning, and I cannot have you occupying them with speeches and sermons.”
    “Does the soul not need training as well?” Luther asked as he led him toward the gate to the outside. “What good does it to teach men how to kill if they know not when or why to use those abilities?”
    “That’s why we have a chain of command, why we teach them to follow orders.”
    “Exactly,” Luther said, sounding pleased. It made Daniel feel like he was just another of the old priest’s students, and he didn’t like it. “Chain of command. Such a good term to describe what we do. Imagine the Blood Tower represents our world. You are to your men as I am to my flock, a teacher. Above you is Sir Robert, just as above me are the old masters in Mordeina and the Stronghold. And as the King is above Sir Robert, so is Karak above us all. We are in the same field of work, Daniel, and I would hope you appreciate my difficulties.”
    “I’m training men to defend all the West from the bloodthirsty creatures in the Vile Wedge.”
    “And I’m training men to defend their souls from the evils of the world. I dare say that my task is more important, wouldn’t you?”
    They stepped out the gate. Across the lush field fed by the Gihon was Karak’s encampment, formed of several dozen tents. Over five hundred men were there, well armed and armored. Their very look made him uneasy. They were like private mercenaries, only worse. The Stronghold might pay them with gold or jewels, but they viewed their service as a religious duty. They served no king, only Karak. The very notion made Daniel nervous. Once a man invested his loyalty in something other than his own king, it made him unpredictable and dangerous.
    “What is it you’re here for?” Daniel asked as Luther stopped to view his camp. He kept his voice low, as if they were discussing secrets. “You have what you wanted. We’ll take Darius alive, and deliver him to you. Why do you stay?”
    “There is the matter of the two Hemman brothers.”
    “Lord Arthur is trapped in his castle, and will starve in the next few months. You have nothing to fear there.”
    “Do we not?” Luther turned to face him, and with those eyes staring into him, Daniel felt naked. He tried not to meet his gaze, but was powerless against it. “This is more than a mere squabble between brothers, more