Knight Spirits

by David Kuminski

  Gonzales looked around at the other knights. "Sirs, what are we going to do?"

  Sir Private Van Dyke glanced up as Sir Private Washington's body descended into the shallow grave. The glare that Van Dyke gave was enough to chill Gonzales, and cause him to refrain from saying anything more. Slowly, the body went into the grave that Van Dyke dug earlier. Despite the temporary wooden retaining walls, enough sand had leaked into the grave that it wasn't quite full depth any longer. The body soon touched bottom. Both the retaining walls and the burial sashes were withdrawn. Only then did Van Dyke ask the others to silently send their thoughts to accompany Washington's spirit, that he might later guide another knight chosen by god.

  "Thank you, fellow knights. I'll bury my friend, too," Van Dyke said. "In the meantime, Wong, Royal, proceed to Castle Bright Sand. Lee, Moto, proceed to Castle Black Water. It appears that the Krons are testing our defenses once more. Report on the conditions when you arrive. Advise the troops on dispersement if a landing occurs."

  Four knights swooped up into the air. They quickly disappeared from normal sight. Only the knights wearing their visored helmets could still see them briefly. Soon, even they could no longer see the four who left.

  When Van Dyke finished filling in the grave, Waleski reached out for the shovel.

  "I'll put it away for you. You need to rest some."

  Van Dyke nodded. As Waleski walked toward the castle, Gonzales fell in beside her. Using a technique he'd learned, he put his hand between his mouth and the small pike sticking out from the side of his helmet.

  "I guess I should have kept my mouth shut."

  "You only said what I was about to say. Chances are that you just barely beat the rest of us in asking," Waleski said, using the same technique to avoid the god voice.

  "I'm not really doing much good, I fear."

  "You're doing better than me when it comes to using a sword. At least, you don't lose your sword in practice."

  "I have to be better. I get the shakes when we fly very high or fast."

  Waleski entered the jagged opening and headed for the storage area. Gonzales followed directly behind her.

  "This must have been a beautiful castle once. I don't know why, but I picture it standing on end instead of the way it is now."

  "Well, except for the missing keels, that image on the wall there could be easily mistaken for this castle. Admittedly, it's standing on end. Maybe you're right."

  Waleski placed the shovel in the open locker and turned to face the image without bothering to cover the small pike. She pointed at part of the image.

  "Maybe one or both of the keels retracts when it's not needed? Those marks there could be where the keels are kept. It could be like a Bendovian wind-sailer raises its keel to pass over reefs. Maybe this castle has two keels because it can function as a ship on either side. Then again, that doesn't seem reasonable to me."

  "Why not?" Gonzales asked, as he shrugged with his hands outstretched.

  "The keel is used to keep a boat from capsizing. If the keel is in place, then why would one be needed on the top? For that matter, why does it have so many large rudders?"

  "I don't know. Aside from some row boats and rafts, I have no experience on the water."

  "That's all right. I'm not really asking you. I'm just posing the question to myself. It's just that our lessons relate how Sir Private Malidor told of seeing this on the water, yet he also taught the later knights that this castle could fly."

  "Maybe that many keels are needed to fly? Certainly, falling from the sky could account for the damage to this castle. So could just falling over, if this is really a castle," Gonzales said.

  Waleski looked around at the interior. "There are places in here that suggest that this could be stood on end and still permit people to move easily. See those ladders? Those make sense only if this stands like a tower. If this was a tower, those might not be keels. Maybe the keels ,or whatever they called those, were added to prevent this tower from falling."

  "If those are ladders. What if they're for something else? Maybe they're meant to trip up invaders, or intended for hanging supplies."

  Waleski shook her head. Some of her curls jiggled about beneath the edge of her helmet. "Those have to be ladders. I'd like to know where those go. It doesn't make sense to have a ladder reaching a door without handles."

  "Maybe there are doors inside the frames of those other open doorways?" Gonzales glanced down the length of the one open area, as he indicated two places where openings in the walls would have logically possessed doors.

  "If there are, then how are they opened? Doors can't be opened without hinges or handles. Can they?"

  ***

  Van Dyke motioned, while grinning to some of the other knights to remove their armor. When the suits were off, he said, "Just like us when we became knights. They're discussing what might have been. They've already forgotten that everything they say is carried on the god voice. Perhaps they'll solve just one of the many mysteries."

  "Because they're two new knights at the same time, and not as reluctant to discuss the mysteries with each other? Yes, I guess it could happen if they search around enough and ask many questions. Still, I doubt that they'll have any more luck than we experienced," Jones said.

  "Then we'll give them some time to seek answers, you and I. The rest of you should return to your mainland posts in case you're needed. Kron might have sent more than the two raiding parties."

  Jones and Van Dyke watched as the rest of the knights suited up and left. The two men found a shady location beneath one of the keels and sat down to reminisce some more about Sir Private Washington.

  ***

  "Where's everyone going?" Waleski asked, upon hearing numerous spells for launching over the god voice.

  "Sir Private Van Dyke is sending more of us to check on the raiders," Miles replied.

  "We better hurry outside and find out if we're supposed to leave now," Waleski said.

  Gonzales turned and tripped to the ground. As he did, some of the rubble was scattered about. As he returned to his feet, Waleski noticed a small black object.

  "Looks like part of your suit. I didn't know that could come off."

  Gonzales glanced down at his suit. He couldn't spot anything missing. "Did you see that fall off? I don't remember that being part of my suit."

  "It must be part of your suit. It's shaped just like this part of my suit. It looks like it ought to fit on yours in the same place. Hold still. Let me see if this will fit back on. God might not like it if we break the suits he sent us."

  Two audible clicks sounded as the piece snapped into position on Gonzales' suit.

  "Command code authorization restored. Recorder installed. Playback selected."

  "It's god speaking, again," Waleski whispered in awe.

  "I know I'm dying. That's why I'm recording this last report. If I wasn't impaled upon a stanchion that broke loose when we impacted, I probably wouldn't have committed an action that's totally against regulations. As it is, Malidor, a native similar in physiology to us, staggered onto the shore earlier today. I fear that the Staten Island may have collided with his surface sailing ship before running aground upon this barren atoll. Because of that, I just spent my last few hours programming the interpreter unit by encouraging him to talk as much as possible. You might say that his presence gave me a reason to live a bit longer, rather than give up sooner. Though it was only a marginal understanding, we could then talk. As it turned out, I was right. He was shipwrecked and in peril of starving to death unless I did something. I felt even more strongly that it was our fault for putting him in his predicament..."

  "That can't be god. It sounds like you, but you're not moving your lips," Waleski said.

  Gonzales shrugged his shoulders inside his suit as he listened to the strange voice speaking in a tongue he couldn't understand that came from the new part on his suit.

  "Of course, much of what we discussed was wrongly interpreted. I suspect tha
t when I said the word for technology, he heard it interpreted as the word for magic. There's not much I could do about that. What I did do, however, was teach him just enough commands to use a basic flying suit, minus the offensive weapons. At first, he didn't believe that I was teaching him to fly. He seemed to change his mind somewhat when I had him bring a suit to me so that I could reprogram it with his name. His belief appeared to change when he found that the suit responded to his first command after my override so that he could put the flying suit on. I cautioned him about not using any of the other commands until he stepped outside. Fortunately for him, he listened attentively. At least, he's now off this barren atoll and returning to his home.

  "I'm aware that placing advanced technology in the hands of a man who appeared to be armed with little more than a bronze knife is against regulations, but his life was at risk. As well, I don't think he'll use the suit wrongly because I had him swear an oath that I made up on the spot. He struck me as the kind of person who lives his life according to a system of honor. I based that even further upon the fact that he buried the other men and women of my command at my request before leaving. He said he'd bring back medical help for me, but I'll be dead sooner than he can probably return. That's assuming that he can even find this atoll, again. At any rate, the suit will be useless once he's dead, if no one finds us before then. As an added precaution against anyone being a voice-identical match for him, I made him learn the commands in English rather than instructing the suit to accept his language. That ought to put the suit out of commission eventually, no matter what. I feel bad about giving him a partial combat suit without civilian collision safety protocols, but it was the only kind of flight suit available. I can only hope that he doesn't collide with anything and harm himself or another person.

  "I've also ordered the ship to seal all entrances. That should preserve the contents and equipment should a rescue team be dispatched and find our ship. If not, it should serve to keep out the natives. They don't strike me as sophisticated enough to force them open. Whatever results, these actions were taken exclusively by myself, First Lieutenant Jesus Gonzales, United Earth Reconnaissance Force. I, alone, bear full responsibility."

  "Could that have been the voice of your patron knight spirit speaking from heaven?" Waleski asked.

  "Perhaps. I just hope we didn't do anything wrong," Gonzales said.

  "We fixed something. At least, I feel certain that we did. Surely, god wouldn't punish us for making something right. Maybe he was telling us that."

  "Perhaps god and my patron knight spirit were telling me that I shouldn't be afraid of flying."

  "Yes! That has to be what the message meant. He was telling you to follow in the spirit of Malidor and himself," Waleski exclaimed.

  Chapter 5

  Sir Private Jones motioned for Gonzales to swoop down at the men on the raider they'd spotted on a routine patrol parallel to the coast. With his sword at the ready, Gonzales positioned himself ahead of the ship before giving his spell consisting of three forward commands. He was scarcely aware that his hair flailed about outside the back of his helmet as he charged one side of the boat, while Jones flew abreast with his sword similarly ready to slash at the rowers on the other side.

  "Missiles incoming."

  Arrows flew at them. To his eternal relief, several glanced off the suit Gonzales wore. He turned his head upon hearing Jones swear loudly. An arrow stuck out of Jones' arm, but Jones hadn't veered off. He still charged with his sword now gripped by both hands. Then Gonzales realized that there hadn't been time to do more than that as he flashed by the raiders, some of whom struck out in their defense with their own swords. At least two were unprepared for his charge and lost their swords into the ocean. Three others missed blocking his flying slash and suffered wounds. One raider's sword broke when it struck the suit. Then Gonzales was beyond the boat and glanced over at Jones.

  "You'll have to attack them on your own," Jones said.

  "How bad are you hurt?"

  "This could retire me, I fear."

  "Can you make it back?"

  "Yes, but you'll have to fight these raiders on your own. Otherwise, they'll attack our people."

  "I won't let that happen."

  "Be careful, Gonzales."

  Gonzales watched briefly as Jones awkwardly sheathed his sword, turned about, and headed for the shore. Blood dripped down Jones' legs from several wounds he'd received. Then Gonzales lined up on the ship once more and gave his suit the commands to swoop in fast once more with his sword at the ready.

  "Missiles incoming."

  As he closed with the boat, several arrows clanged against his suit. Some even bounced off just in front of his face, to his surprise. One grazed him on one leg. He could feel the saltwater sting the slight wound as he flew through misty spray thrown up by the waves. Then he almost dropped his sword when his suit spoke once more after a single, short, musical tone.

  "Sonic repaired and ready. Target in range. Activate sonic?"

  "What? Sonic? Activate?" Gonzales exclaimed, before issuing spells to veer off from the raiders and hover so he could puzzle out the latest enigma posed to him. The tone sounded again.

  "Sonic ready. Target still in range. Activate sonic?"

  A few arrows fell into the sea just before reaching him as he hovered out of range of even the best of the raider archers. Gonzales stared into the recess above his visor where a new light was blinking that he hadn't known to be there before.

  "Sir Private Jones? Can you hear what I'm hearing?"

  "No, Gonzales. What are you hearing?"

  "I'm hearing god's voice again."

  "Can you understand any of it?"

  "Only one word. Activate. Then it speaks a new spell word. Sonic, I think."

  Gonzales was only briefly aware of what took place, as his suit suddenly lit up before silence reigned over the ocean. A few last arrows fell into the water well short of where he hovered.

  "Target neutralized."

  Gonzales stared out at the raiders who all appeared to be dead. "Blessings be! Sir Private Jones, the raiders are all dead, I think."

  "Dead? Are you certain?"

  "They look dead. My suit did something. It happened so fast, I don't know what it did."

  "Make certain that they're not pretending to be dead. Raiders have tried that trick before. Fly to the nearest shore and pick up some rocks to drop on them."

  "Yes, Sir Private Jones."

  Gonzales returned to the boat. Everything appeared much the same as before. The men in the boat still appeared to be dead. Just as he flew up to position himself out of range above the boat, two of the men stirred.

  "They're not dead. I don't think they were pretending, either. They're looking around at the others and shaking them awake. Whatever my suit did to them, they're truly scared. More of them are awake now. They're taking to their oars and turning their boat around."

  "That's good. Keep watch on them until you're certain that they're leaving. I'll be back at Castle Verata. I'm almost to it now."

  "How are your wounds?"

  "Like I said, they're not good. When you get back, we'll need to discuss this new spell word you've discovered. It may be that god has found new favor with our Order and rewarded us through you."

  ***

  Several of the nearest knights gathered within Jones' quarters upon hearing the news of the latest victory, and the strange events that took place. Sir Private Van Dyke walked over to stare even closer at Sir Lieutenant Gonzales' suit.

  "Aside from the obvious differences we've noticed among the suits, I don't see where this light you described could come from. It's too bad that Jones was returning to the shore when this happened. His observation and verification would be invaluable."

  "I'm telling the truth about what took place," Gonzales said.

  "We're not doubting your word," Jones said from his bed. "Besides, you're not the first to experience something bouncing off your face for no reason. That's ha
ppened to me and just about everyone else here."

  Moto and Wong both nodded.

  "Have you ever noticed that the wind doesn't hit you strongly in the face once you reach a speed faster than most birds fly? Try touching your face then. You'll find, as most of us have discovered, that you can't touch your own face. It's god's protection. So, be thankful for it. It's only too bad that it doesn't extend to our arms and legs," Miles said.

  "The second Sir Private Stravinsky once had god's hand catch an arrow just before it reached his face while he was still giving his suit the proper magic spells. He then flew against a ship with the arrow sticking out like he'd been hit. We're certain that threw the entire crew into a panic when they saw that he wasn't even hurt or bleeding," Moto said.

  "Still, this new spell needs to be learned. What was the spell word?" Van Dyke asked.

  "Sonic," Gonzales answered.

  "It was activate sonic," Jones said. "From what I remember, Gonzales didn't even speak them directly together, because he was trying to tell me about it when he said it happened."

  "Have you tried with your suit, Sir Private Jones?" Van Dyke asked.

  "Yes, I have. I don't get any response," Jones answered.

  "How about the rest of you? Have any of you tried?" Van Dyke asked.

  "I tried with no better results," Moto said.

  "Activate sonic," Wong said. "No, nothing."

  "Activate sonic," Van Dyke said. "Nothing happens when I speak it. I'm beginning to believe that it was more likely a raider trick."

  "If so, then why did they leave? They would have known that our land forces were still being gathered and that we could only delay their arrival," Jones asked.

  "Then it must be a new twist on their trick that worked in our favor this time," Van Dyke said. "Aren't you going to try, Waleski?"

  "Activate sonic," Waleski said.

  "Authorize sonics for Sergeant Waleski?"

  "What's the matter?" Van Dyke asked, seeing Gonzales' mouth open in surprise.