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

Faran felt trapped. He was in an impossible situation. Hemust abandon either Ferla or Aranloth, but he could do neither.

And yet he must. He thought of asking Ferla to choose forhim, but he knew what she would advise. He had to go with Kareste. Nor could heshift responsibility of the choice to her. He must make it himself.

He was surprised, when he spoke at last, how steady hisvoice was.

“I’ll go with you. And I hope,” he continued, turning toFerla, “that you can forgive me.”

He saw the pain in her eyes, but he also saw the knowledgethere that what he was doing was right, and that she understood.

She moved over to him and hugged him. It felt awkward intheir armor, but even so he never felt closer to her than at that moment. Itwas the knowledge of parting from her that made it so, and he learned a truthfrom it. People took for granted what they had, and gave it greater value whenthey lost it.

Kareste looked at him when Ferla let him go. Her eyes weresuddenly like Aranloth’s. They were deep pools of sympathy.

“I’m sorry. I wish things were otherwise, but wishing is invain.” She turned then to Ferla. “And I’m sorry for what I do to you, as well.I would have been with you every step of the way, and shared every danger. Butthat cannot now be. Worse, I take Faran from you as well. This much I will say,though. You have learned well, and your heart is one of high courage. If I donot walk with you every step of the way, know that destiny does in my stead.Your enemies fear you now, and well should they.”

Ferla hugged the lòhren then, and Kareste seemed surprised.

“It is what it is,” Ferla said. “And none of this is yourfault. Who knows? Maybe it’s all happening for a reason, and will turn out forthe best.”

Faran wished he could believe that. But a wave of doubtrolled over him. Ferla needed all the help she could get, and while it was herdestiny to be the seventh knight, he knew what the prophecy said. She wouldrise as the seventh knight to challenge evil, but it had never been foretoldthat she would prevail.

But this much he knew for certain. As soon as possible, hewould rejoin her. At least, if he survived another journey through the tombs.

5. The Wisdom of the Dead

The smell of ash was in the air. It was the remnant offire and destruction, and Savanest loved it.

He had established a camp near the lake. But he liked towander past the destroyed cabin. Charred beams lay in a tumble of ruins. Mosthad been burned away, but some remained like skeletal bones. The rest of thehovel was gone.

He liked it here. It reminded him that his enemies werefallible. It was true that they had escaped, but that was Lindercroft’s faultrather than any great deed on his opponent’s behalf. This was a testament to thefact that they could be located and attacked. The next time, however, theywould not escape.

There was something else about the destruction that he likedhere. It was symbolic. All Faladir would be destroyed like this, and thenrebuilt into a vision of glory. Not so much the buildings, though many of themwere markers of the old order, and for that they must go. It was society itselfthat must be transformed. The old ways of thinking were wrong. A new light mustbe shone, a new spirit awakened. And destruction was the beginning of that. Afield could not be planted to wheat unless it was plowed first.

He would be a part of that. His brother knights too. Theking would lead, and with the stone, with Osahka, all things would be possible.Faladir was just a beginning. When it was broken and remade, then other landswould follow. All lands would follow. It must be so, for while one landendured in the old ways, injustice prevailed. All must think and breathe andlive in the new order.

He kicked at a charred piece of timber, and sent it tumblingback into the ruins. He had come here to think, not to dream of the brightfuture.

What was his next course of action? It was annoying not tobe sure. He had men, but he needed information, and that was harder to come by.

He gazed at the small camp back by the lake. They liked ithere, fools that they were. They would learn though. Duty came before swims inthe lake and days of ease. As soon as he knew where to go, they would be offand running.

They were fools. But they were useful too. He fingered the were-stonehung around his neck on a chain of fine silver. It was a pearl, or what somecalled a moon drop. It was nothing in itself, though he supposed it was worthquite some money. But that was not its value.

It was cool to his touch, no matter that it rested againsthis skin. It was always cool, but at times it seemed to change weight, growingheavier. He supposed that it could not, but with magic, anything was possible.

Osahka had led him to it. Of that, he was sure. Why else hadhe felt a compulsion to dig into an ancient tomb? It was not even recognizableas such, being nothing more than a mound of earth. But he had felt the need todig into it, and to discover what was inside.

His men had complained. They thought he was crazy, but theirmuttering died away when they found the body. Nothing but bones was left, forit was an ancient burial. Neither was there a sword nor spear nor armor. It wasno warrior laid to rest here.

Who it was, or what, Savanest did not know. Someone whopossessed magic though, that was certain, for around his tumbled vertebrae laythe same ornament that now felt cold to Savanest’s own touch. The men had beenfearful of it, but he had not.

He had reached into the grave and placed it around his ownneck. He knew what it was, and what it did. He was sure