Free The Record of the Saints Caliber by M. David White

back in Jerusa she wouldn’t feel comfortable. But now that Celacia held her’s and Isley’s Sanguinastrums she wondered if going back to Jerusa would even be an option. Worse, she wondered if going back to being a Saints Caliber was even an option.
    No, it had to be an option.
    In her mind, Nuriel resolved to somehow get her Sanguinastrum back from Celacia and return it to Sanctuary. She didn’t know how she would do it yet, or how she would get it back to Sanctuary, but she would. Then she could go back to being a Saints Caliber. One day, maybe she would even be granted Eremiticy. She’d be a Saints Caliber, but she wouldn’t be bound to any King or Exalted. She’d be free to wander the world on her own, striking down the Unbound and Infernals as she found them.
    Being an Eremitic. That would be her new dream, she thought. After she got her Sanguinastrum back, after she could put behind her all this nonsense that Isley had gotten her tangled up in, she would try to prove herself worthy of Eremiticy.
    Nuriel sniffled and coughed. She chanced a look up at Isley who forced a gentle smile at her. She didn’t return it in kind, and instead craned her neck up and around the large boulder she stood behind to see outside.
    On the plateau Celacia held her ground, looking down upon the approaching army with her lips screwed up as she appraised them. The majority were the rank and file knights of Dimethica in full plate armor riding atop their horses. Unlike Jerusan knights, King Armigon’s soldiers were armored in burnished steel of highest quality and the weapons they carried were all in good repair.
    They were led by Golden Cockerel the Exalted, easily identified by his gaudy, golden, armor that was bejeweled with large diamonds throughout. His crested helmet flowed with plumes of exotic feathers and sported two large rubies on either side of it, giving him the appearance of an oversized rooster. He was draped in a cape of gold that bore the griffin crest of Dimethica, but it was so laden with jewels that it did not make the slightest flutter in the wind. His face, neck and hands were all painted in gold dust, making him look like an unnatural effigy. Even his horse was dusted mane to tail in gold.
    The Golden Cockerel was flanked on either side by four lieutenants in silver armor flying the banners of the kingdom. They wore similarly crested helms and white capes but had none of the jewels. Behind them came Saint Ramiel and the Oracle, blights of blackness against the sea of gold and chrome.
    As the army gathered around the foot of the mountain some few-hundred yards off, the Exalted with his gem-laden cape broke off, escorted by his four lieutenants in shining armor and flanked by Saint Ramiel and the Oracle. The Exalted’s lieutenants all had the heavy steel rifles known as bolt-throwers slung around their chests and they kept their right hands wrapped around the handles as they rode.
    The squad trotted up the path. The Exalted rode high upon his golden horse with his chin seemingly resting upon a cloud, a look of smug arrogance upon his golden, shimmering face. He seemed larger than was natural, as did his horse. It was a difference in size and scope that was at once subtle but profound. Whether this was a trick of his gaudy armor and crested helm was hard to tell.
    His lieutenants all appeared quite anxious beneath their armor, though they did a good job trying to disguise it by sitting high in their saddles and keeping their giant guns at the ready. Saint Ramiel, on the other hand, looked stern and hard, his dark eyes angry slits as he studied Celacia. The Oracle too was studying her, though it only looked upon the world through a polished silver mask that shined brilliantly in the sun.
    The Exalted and his lieutenants stopped their horses just short of the plateau while Ramiel and the Oracle brought their horses up behind them. All the horses were quite uneasy, nervously stepping and shaking their heads. The Exalted