Legacy of Steel Page 21

  "A minor violation!" Sara shouted, outraged. "He allows his men to slaughter an entire village and you give him a slap on the wrist? What about the knights? Aren't you going to punish them, too? What sort of justice is that?"

  Mirielle's eyebrows curled down and her mouth hardened. "mine," she said coldly. "And I will hear no more about it. l am short of knights and supplies. I need this village as a gateway to Kortal and eventually Sanction."

  But Sara refused to give up quite yet. "And what about the people who lived here? They didn't have to die."

  "No, they did not. But it is too late for them. We must move on. Take your prisoners and your wounded back in Neraka, Knight Officer Conby. Your talon has performed well." She turned to go, her mind already calculating her next move. "Knight Officer Targonne, you will take command of the wing until Subcommander Torceth returns. Tell your father that the gateway between Neraka and Sanction is ours. We will set up a trade route ass soon as the passes are open."

  Sara stared at the general's implacable face, and although her body still shook with anger and her mind was in a turmoil, she realized with a cold certainty she could do no more. Governor-General Abrena had given her orders, and unless she wished to jeopardize her position, Sara knew any further arguments were futile. Bitterly she returned to the talon and in tense silence watched the general and her officers march up the trail toward the the inn.

  The pensive quiet lasted long after the knights disappeared from view.

  "Knight Officer," Argathon said into the hush, "why does the knighthood emphasize the Code so much, then let something like this go unpunished?"

  His confusion was shared by them all.

  Derrick threw his hands up in a gesture of frustration. "Why didn't the general do something about the knights who caused all of this? It isn't right!"

  "Oh, grow up, Derrick!" Treb snapped. "What else could she do? What's done is done."

  "I don't know," Sara said quietly, as if she hadn't heard Treb's remark. "I just don't know. This is not what Lord Ariakan had in mind when he built the knighthood. Steel Brightblade and his knights would never have done something like this."

  Sara could make such a statement in utter sincerity. Although she hated the Knights of Takhisis, she had never found cause to doubt their strict Code and their discipline… until now. General Abrena seemed to be letting go of Ariakan's dark honor in favor of rapid training and lax recruitment standards to increase her army. This new trend in the development of the knighthood alarmed Sara.

  Confused and pensive, Sara set the squires to work preparing to leave. If the general wanted them to return to Neraka, then Sara intended to get them all back to the city that day. She did not want to stay in this place another hour longer than they had to.

  By enlisting the cooperation of the four dragons, Sara sent the talon and their prisoners back to Neraka in two shifts. The dragons made the first trip between the village and the city carrying a rider and two prisoners each They returned just before nightfall to retrieve Sara and the remaining squires.

  Kelena felt strong enough by that time to ride Howl, so they put a bound-and-gagged prisoner behind her saddle, bundled her in a cloak and gloves, and helped her onto the dragon's back.

  Derrick and Saunder helped Sara put Jacson's body onto Squall's saddle. Squall, who had carried Jacson the most, asked for the honor and watched sadly as they tied the wrapped body in the second seat. Derrick climbed into the first seat to escort Jacson home.

  At last they were ready to go. Sara had one prisoner with her, a squat, muscular man. But she doubted she would have any trouble with him during the flight. His wrists were bound to the saddle, and he looked terrified to be on a dragon's back.

  She gave the signal to Cobalt to take off, and one after another, the four blues launched into the darkening sky for the journey home.

  On the western horizon, where the peaks of the great Khalkists reared up like a black fortress against the pale blue light of sunset, a sliver of the silvery moon hung in solitary grace.

  A new moon, a new month. A new hope?

  Sara doubted it.

  20

  The talon returned to their usual routine the following morning: training, service, labor, and guard duty, to be repeated again the following day and every day there after until further notice.

  In between duties, they buried Jacson in the hills by his talon-mate, Tamar, in a hole blasted out of the frozen ground by the dragons. They placed his armor-clad body on his cloak and put his weapons beside him. Sara laid the bolt he had taken for her sake in his hand, and, her eyes blurred with tears, she tied her last hair ribbon around his arm—a token of esteem from a lady.

  The others left him tokens, too, small remembrances of his presence among them, then reverently they piled the dirt over his grave and stood back and watched the dragons build a cairn of stones over the mound.

  Sara fervently hoped she would not have to add any more graves to this lonely hillside.

  Two days later Governor-General Abrena returned to Neraka, and after dealing with Torceth and making sure the city's affairs were in order, she sent her goblin to summon the Sixth Talon.

  He found Sara and the squires on the practice fields with another recruit talon practicing hand-to-hand fighting. He sidled up to Sara and, bobbing his head, delivered his message.

  Annoyed, Sara called in her recruits. She had no desire to see the governor-general and could not imagine what Abrena would want with them.

  The goblin shifted nervously when she asked and grumbled, "Don't know. Governor-general say come."

  Sara sighed and led the talon after him.

  The goblin took them to the general's headquarters in the same house Sara had visited before. She had not been there in some time, since Mirielle liked to spread the honor of squiring her dinners among the knights.

  They filed down a long hallway to a large room at the north end of the house. Sara felt her interest revive the moment she entered the room. Everywhere she looked there were maps hung on the dark paneling—ancient maps, recent maps, on parchment, on vellum, and even on bark-of every known part of Ansalon from the new Teeth of Chaos in the north to the massive Ice Wall Glacier to the south. The maps showed trails, high roads, villages, cities, fortresses, ruins, and landmarks.

  Then Sara's eye was caught by a large table that stood in the center of the room. On the table sat the most amazing map Sara had ever seen of Neraka and its surrounding environs, from Estwilde in the north, as far east as the Blood Sea, down to Blode in the south and Throt in the west. Instead of being flat, the map was a three-dimensional relief map in bold colors of greens, blues, browns, and reds. Sara could identify the mountains and volcanic peaks around Neraka and Sanction, the towns and villages, the main rivers and ports, the realm of the Khur, and marked in red, the spreading domain of the dragon, Malystryx.

  The map captured Sara's attention so completely that she did not pay attention to the four officers standing across the room from the talon.

  Only when Governor-General Abrena moved to a side table to lift a wine bottle out of a bowl of snow did Sara look up. She recognized immediately that something of significance was about to occur. The first person she saw was Lord Knight Cadrel, his diseased face shadowed by a hood. In his left hand, he carried the scepter of the order's adjudicator, or judge. Beside him stood a gray-robed sorcerer, a Knight of the Thorn, and a grim-visaged woman wearing the emblem of the Order of the Skull. Three knights, three orders, and the general.

  Sara's mental alarms began to clamor.

  Mirielle refilled her glass from the chilled bottle pushed it back into the slush, and turned to her audience, all with the graceful, deliberate movements of a hunter. She smiled now and said, "I understand several of your squires requested to take the Test of Takhisis."

  Sara stiffened, her internal alarms in full howl.

  Six of the seven squires exchanged uneasy glances.

  Only Treb stepped forward gladly. "Yes, General. I
was supposed to take my test the day we captured the the village."

  "Then you will be pleased to know that your involvement in the attack on the village was your test. For your valor, your skill, your adherence to the Code—" and here she quirked an eyebrow at Sara, "—we have found you all worthy to join the Order of the Lily."

  Sara was flabbergasted. She stood and stared, too shocked to find the words she wanted to say. This was not how the test was usually applied! She couldn't believe these older knights actually agreed to this. These squires had not completed their training; they had not proven themselves in anything but one botched massacre, nor had they given an accounting of themselves before these ranking knights. What was Abrena looking for, knights dedicated heart and soul to Takhisis or whatever she could get tied by an empty vow?

  Suddenly Sara heard the general say, "You will spend your vigil in solitary prayer to the Dark Queen this day. Tonight at midnight, if the priestess deems you worthy, you may take your vows. Please follow Lord Knight Atochia. She will take you to our new temple."

  Treb moved first, her enthusiasm glowing in her face as she joined the cleric. Saunder looked at Derrick, then back at Sara. The girls just stared at the floor.

  No, Sara thought with all her being, don't go!

  But whether they wanted to or not, they had little choice. To refuse at this stage, in front of the general, the adjudicator, and two ranking knights, would be blasphemy and cause for immediate execution.

  Derrick knew this as well as everyone else. Nevertheless, he seemed to hesitate. His body swayed slightly, and he could not bring himself to look at anyone. Finally, just as the general's face was hardening into a frown, he moved slowly after Treb. The others fell into line behind him.

  Sara's heart lurched. She clenched her hands into iron fists at her sides and concentrated on the pain of her nails digging into her palms. It was all that helped her contain her anger and grief. They aren't ready, her mind cried over and over. They aren't ready!

  No, said her heart. I'm not ready. I'm not ready to lose them. Wordlessly she watched them file out of the room to go to the Temple of Takhisis for their vigils.

  "Excellent," Governor-General Abrena said with satisfaction. "Knight Officer Conby, please stay. The rest of you may go. I will expect you tonight for the knighting ceremony."

  The two officers bowed and departed.

  Sara remained frozen in place. She had to steel herself not to cry or scream or vent her rage on the general. Emotions would accomplish nothing but disaster. "Governor-General, I wish to make it clear that I do not approve of testing my talon in this way. They have not completed every phase of their training, and the capture of the village was hardly a suitable test."

  "Your complaint has been noted, Conby. Don't worry about them. They'll be fine. They can polish their training during the remainder of the winter with a new leader." Mirielle lifted her glass in a toast. "You have done well with them. You are a fine trainer. I have watched you since your return to the order, and I am pleased with your work and your progress. Therefor-" she strode to her map and gestured to Sara to come closer, "—I have a task I believe would suit you well and help the knighthood. I want you to go to Solace and visit the Tomb of the Last Heroes."

  If she had said, "I want you to go to the Abyss," Sara could not have been more surprised. She knew her jaw dropped open, but she could do nothing but stare at the woman's intent face. "Why?" she croaked.

  The general did not answer right away. Instead, she sipped her wine and gazed into a distance that went far beyond the surfaces of her map.

  For the first time since Sara met Mirielle, she saw the general's calculating, self-assured mask slip slightly askew to expose a faint shadow of the uncertainty that lay beneath. Wondering, Sara moved to the table and let her eyes roam over the map. On it, she saw Mirielle's ambitious plans for Neraka mapped out for the next several years, including expansions in the outer ring, more permanent barracks, a new headquarters, improved training facilities, and the new temple built atop the ruins of the old Temple of Darkness. Beyond Neraka, Sara saw towns and villages marked in black in an ever-increasing sphere of influence.

  "What you see here," Mirielle said abruptly, waving her long fingers over the map, "is a plan for the future, for the survival of the knights, and for the glory of our Queen. But without Takhisis's Vision… I feel empty. Do you know what I mean?"

  Sara didn't, but she nodded anyway. She had not allowed herself to be sucked into the order so far as to receive the dark goddess's Vision, nor had Lord Ariakan ever suggested it. But she had talked to enough knights to know that the true magic of the Vision was that it was different for every person who received it and that it revealed each person's individual path to death or glory in Takhisis's grand scheme. Apparently, when Ariakan died and Takhisis fled the world during the Second Cataclysm, the Vision had faded from the minds of their knights.

  Mirielle continued to sip her wine and stare at her map. She did not seem to notice Sara's silence. "The odd part is that I do not remember what the Vision was, only that it was once a part of me. Now it is gone, and I feel its loss every day." She swiftly straightened and turned her golden eyes on Sara. "That is why I want you to go to the tomb. I am hoping you will find a sign, a faint hope, a vision, something that will tell us that Queen Takhisis might return. Even if it is not in my lifetime, I would like to know that what we do here will be well received by our Dark Queen. Will you do this?"

  Sara did not hesitate. This was her ticket out of Neraka. She would go to the Tomb of the Last Heroes to see Steel's resting place, but she would not return. The squires would be knights by tomorrow and would no longer need her. She had the information she wanted and permission to leave. "Yes, I will go as soon as you wish," she replied. Then a stubborn little wish prompted her to say, "If the talon is knighted this night, may I take them with me as an escort?"

  Mirielle shook her head. "Too many people would attract attention. Take one. Then if something happens, perhaps one of you will make it back with news."

  "When do you want me to leave?"

  "As soon as the weather clears. My patrols tell me there is a snowstorm in the mountains west of here, and it is expected to come this way."

  Sara saluted and left Mirielle studying the map on the table. As she came to the door, she noticed a metallic shield that had been polished to a mirrored sheen hanging on the wall. A glimpse of her reflection peered back at her from its bright surface. Sara grimaced. Her face had aged in the few months she had been hero. She couldn't remember when she had looked so old and tired. More wrinkles had appeared on her forehead and around her eyes, and the blond coloring had faded from her hair, returning it to silver gray. She sighed wearily. She was too old to be a spy, running around Neraka pretending to be a knight. The effort had worn her out. It was time to go.

  Sara thought about avoiding the knighting ceremony that night. She could hardly bear to face her failure or to see her squires received into the knighthood she loathed. Yet the thought of disappointing the young men and women with her absence proved stronger than her own weaknesses. Shortly before midnight, she gathered with the other knights before the Temple of Takhisis Mirielle had built just outside the old temple compound.

  The storm from the mountains had made swift progress, and already a stiff wind roared among the black towers. A heavy blanket of clouds obscured the stars and turned the night darker and more forbidding. The cold grew intense.

  A few snowflakes were beginning to fall when the waiting knights heard the clear notes of a trumpet on the gathering wind. Governor-General Abrena appeared in the courtyard of the temple, and the knights gathered in a circle around her. She threw her arms wide to greet the storm. Torches flared in the gusts that swept between the stone buildings. The yellow light danced on the knights' armor and threw shadows skittering across their faces.

  The knights raised their arms with Mirielle and began a chant to their goddess.

  In just a few momen
ts, the men and women of the Sixth Talon would emerge from the temple where they had spent the day in prayer. If the priestess deemed them worthy, they would be invested in the dark knighthood and granted the status and rights of full Knights of Takhisis.

  The snow fell harder.

  In the growing storm, Sara lifted her arms beside the knights, but she only mouthed the words of the song of praise. Her eyes remained fixed on the door to the temple. She wasn't certain what she dreaded most, that all seven squires would emerge and be knighted, or that any of them had refused and been put to death.

  The cold seeped into her bones and made her shiver.

  The trumpet sounded again, ending the knights' chant. A silence settled over the courtyard, and all eyes turned to the temple. Someone flung open the door from the inside. A priestess in robes of black emerged. The wind whipped her long black hair about her face and sent her robes snapping. "They have been accepted," she cried in a high, clear voice.

  Well, of course they have, Sara thought cynically. Abrena said take them, and Takhisis was not around to argue.

  In single file, Derrick, Saunder, Kelena, Kazar, Marika, Treb, and Argathon emerged from the temple, each carrying the skull-shaped helm of a Dark Knight. In full armor, they knelt before Governor-General Abrena.

  Sara closed her eyes, not wanting to see the black lily of death and the bloody axe that adorned each black breastplate. She listened, her teeth clenched so hard her jaw ached, as the general heard the initiates' blood oaths that joined each squire body and soul to the cause.

  Using her own sword, Governor-General Abrena touched the blade to both shoulders of each squire and named them Knights in the Order of the Lily.

  Sara did not stay to see more. Before the trumpet sounded dismissal, she turned her back on the ceremony and fled into the rising storm.