The Sworn Knight, Robert Ryan [good beach reads .txt] 📗

He sat and waited. The night waited with him, brooding. Lowclouds rolled in, and a hint of rain was in the air. The willows creaked,moving to some faint breeze or a change in the temperature of the air.

Savanest thought on his life, and how the world now wasdifferent from that of his youth. His dreams were dust, but a new dream hadreplaced them. One dream, single and overpowering. It was the world to him, andfor a while this made him uneasy, but that passed.

He became one with the night. His breathing was slow, hispulse strong and steady. He allowed his magic to rise within him, feeling itstir like a wild animal, unpredictable and dangerous.

The mist from the lake thickened, and he knew it was time.Half the night was gone, and the world now waited for a new day. But for him,it would bring tidings. For his enemies, it would be the first of their lastdays alive.

He rose smoothly, and stepped to the edge of the water. Itseemed black and unmoving, reminding him of the Morleth Stone itself. The magiccame to his palms, and without quite knowing why, he placed both hands aroundthe trunk of the closest willow.

Magic flared. Like fire it drove down through the wood.Steam filled the air, swirling with the mist about him, then smoke followed.

His mind chased the magic. Down through the tree he sensedthe years, and a history of bright days and winds and storms. Down into theroots, and he felt the thirst for water and the rising of sap. This was thelife of a tree, reaching for the sun and delving the earth for nutrients. Hesnuffed that life out.

With a crack, the tree split in two and fell to the ground,rolling into the water and sending waves crashing beyond sight. Yet his magicflared out of the roots and into the lake itself.

The water near him bubbled and seethed. He withdrew hismagic, and sent it arcing as crimson fire into the clouds above. Thunderboomed, and then a single stroke of lightning answered his call and sizzledinto the center of the lake. The world flared bright, and the boom of a secondpeal of thunder rumbled the earth round him.

Savanest staggered, but stayed upright. Then he spoke,channeling his power now into his words.

“I summon thee, Lindercroft. Heed my call.”

The waters of the lake roiled.

“I summon thee, Kingshield Knight that was. Hear mybeckoning.”

The clouds above rolled and shredded.

“I summon thee, Morleth Knight that forever will be! Answerme, Lindercroft. Come!”

And the spirit of the dead knight came. In his armor he rosefrom the bubbling waters. The wails of the dead in the void rising with him.Water gleamed on his helm. His sword was in his hand, naked steel glimmeringwith an unearthly light. Blood frothed at his mouth, and gore spilled from arent in his armor.

Savanest, unwilling, took a step back. A premonition of feartouched him. He had loosed powers upon the world that he did not understand.

The voice of Lindercroft boomed, and it was as loud as thethunder had been.

“Why have you summoned me?”

Savanest felt panic, but he stilled it. “I do what I must.And I have questions that only you can answer.”

“I no longer serve, Savanest.” The voice of the spirit wasquieter now, but there was anger in it.

“You will serve in death as you served in life. The Rite ofSummoning ensures it.”

The dead man laughed, and it was a bitter sound. “You knownothing, little man. You deem yourself my better, but you will come to heel inthe end. But speak. Ask your questions, and I will answer.”

Savanest did not like that. Bitter as the dead man was,there seemed still some amusement in his voice. It was said that the dead spokein riddles, and whatever answers were given must be sifted carefully for truth.But it was also said there was wisdom in them, if interpreted correctly.

“Where did you find the enemy?”

Lindercroft leaned on his sword, and it seemed that thewater beneath him grew hard as though it actually supported weight andresponded to the will of the once-knight.

“I found them on the crest of a mountain, riding the wavesof battles long forgotten.”

That answer, at least, was plain enough. Savanest had heardof the mountain close to the elven forest. There, many battles had been fought.

“Where are they now?”

Water spat from the lake, sizzling on the wet bank.

“Where the wind blows and the dead rest unquietly.”

Savanest was not sure what that meant. He would think overthe words later.

“How did they escape you?”

“They are greater than they seem, and truly among them theseventh knight walks. She is greater than she seems.”

Lindercroft said those words with malice in his voice. Therewas no riddle there, but the surprise shocked Savanest to his core.

“The girl called Ferla is the seventh knight?”

Lindercroft nodded gravely, and the moans of other deadspirits rose from the depths of the lake.

“She it was who slew me, and she is sworn to kill you all.And to bring the king to ruin after.”

Savanest could not credit this. She was a girl, and nothingmore. Yet the wound in Lindercroft pumped blood, and the waters around him wereturning red. Someone had bested him in combat, and while the dead often spokein riddles they never lied.

“How can I beat them?”

Lindercroft sheathed his sword. There was something offinality in his gesture, and the water beneath him hissed and roiled.

“You may not be able to. She is more skilled than you, andwith her are those who are great. But do you wish to defeat her?”

Savanest did not understand. Of course he wished to defeather, but perhaps directly by sword or magic was not the way. He would considerthat further.

He made to speak again, but Lindercroft raised his arms andlighting twisted from the sky and blasted him. All about him the water swirled,faster and faster, and a vortex formed. Into this, Lindercroft began to descendand Savanest knew the summoning was over.

He felt weak, and staggering back a blast of cold air toreat him. Cold as the void it