PELAIR. The Gems of the Golden Serpent.

12. The Abbey of Kerst

The steep slopes of the dense forests of pines and araucarias stood as a formidable barrier for those who wanted to approach the monastery of Kerst. A soft mist tucked the woods that early morning, wetting with dew the leaves that shaped as green needles protruded from the abundant conifers. A soft mattress of dry pine needles covered the forest floor, helping to reconcile any noise.

"That is going to be a hell of a task!" commented Brannan looking up at the impressive and massive rocky outcrop atop where the Abbey of Kerst was nested. He and his small company had finally arrived at the monastery on the south side of the imposing building.

The abbey was a vast mass of rocks that rose directly from the side of the mountain. The high and steep walls discouraged any attempt to climb them.

The monastery was the seat of Fellowship of The Falcon, a warrior and monastic Order, whose sole purpose was to maintain the viability and independence of the communications amongst all the kingdoms of Pelair. Its monks were also warriors trained to defend the premises that guarded the hawks. These birds ate only from the hand of their preceptor monk, so if anything happened to the monk, the birds would simply die of starvation.

For centuries, this Order had selected and raised a particular fast and tough species of falcon. The monks had managed to establish a strange and intimate connection with these birds so that each monk could become mentally one with his bird and guide it to the place where it should go to leave a message. Each monk was able to memorize from a precise map, even the most remote locations within the territory of Pelair. For a hawk to deliver a message, there had to be a monk of the Order to send it, and another one to receive it. Hence, each castle, house, tavern, monastery, and even boat throughout the territory of Pelair had its own nest of hawks, with a monk of the Order to feed and orient the birds. It couldn't be otherwise.

The assigned monk had to give up his eyes and his tongue, so that he could neither see nor speak, for the sole purpose of avoiding temptations or other interests outside his allotted work, him from being engaged in any external affair. The monk's task was limited to placing on the bird's leg, the note with the message, and indicating according to his memory, where the hawk should go. In return, the hawk's vision became the vision of the monk, so he could see and sense everything the bird saw and felt. The monk, in a sense, could fly with his bird until another monk received it.

The training the apprentices of this Order had to endure was so strict, that even blinded, they were able to strike with a sword, grappling with two or more opponents. They were nimble and quick, and if they had a falcon at their disposal, they could use the sharp eyes of the bird for their purposes.

No one was allowed to visit the abbey of the Order. Those who had tried, whether a prince or a pauper, had been dealt inexorably. The place was virtually impregnable, and to approach it was an odyssey in itself.

The small party had traveled mostly by night, through the dense and lush forests that covered much of this wild and lonely territory. If one of those birds had spotted them, their mission would have been over.

"I don't think we have another option, my lord, but to climb it," opined one of the two soldiers who had remained from the initial expedition that had left Azcangor in this risky mission.

The sound of a snapped twig caught their attention and prompted them to get their swords ready. However, at that hour and in that secluded spot, it would probably be an animal looking for food among the foliage.

To their surprise, they saw a young lad walking through the trees, stopping from time to time, peering, and then moving forward with caution. Indeed, his lack of experience had given him away.