Knight Spirits

by David Kuminski

  "Please, don't kill me. I'll tell you what I know," the applicant sobbed.

  "Start talking," Royal ordered, while jabbing his sword to make his point.

  "It was Basoc's plan. He said that some of us might succeed in activating a suit," the man cried.

  "That figures. I want to know what you meant about the other suits," Sabbo demanded.

  "The man with me took the suits that we couldn't activate. Basoc has those now," the man cried.

  "He deserves to die," Royal said.

  "Not on this island. Not while he's helpless," Gonzales said.

  The man cried and threw himself at Gonzales' feet.

  "Royal's right. We can't hold him and go after the stolen suits at the same time," Sabbo said.

  "Then the two of you should go after the suits," Gonzales said.

  Sabbo shook his head. "No, you two should go. I can guard this man while I record the god voices. Take his suit with you. Without that, he's not going anywhere."

  ***

  Basoc quickly covered the mouth pike with his hand before he spoke to the man he sent among a group of applicants to Castle High Crag. "Leave these here. Return to Kron now." He turned to one of the men. "Hand him his sword. If they find you, defend yourself however you can."

  "I'll look forward to killing more of them. I think it's fitting that their Order was begun by Malidor in this suit. In King Xidon's name, I shall end it wearing the same suit."

  Basoc studied the suit for a moment. "You're right. This could even be a sign that we will succeed. Go now. Cause as much harm to them as possible. Just remember to fight on Kron soil where they will be at their weakest."

  The new Private Malidor flew off toward the sea to cross to Kron. Basoc looked over the suits briefly while making notes for himself. After a few minutes, he clapped his hands to signal others of his command to his side.

  "Ready the supplies and mounts. We must move in case he was followed. They're sure to search the ground along his path."

  Some of the men seemed in awe that anyone could follow a path in the air. Regardless, they moved quickly to gather what would be needed. Basoc used the time to place each suit inside a separate cloth bag. With the suits thus hidden, casual observers couldn't spot the suits and tell the Knights of the Star. Instead, his small group of men would be mistaken for travelers returning home after failure at Castle High Crag.

  Chapter 33

  Moto entered the chapel at the head of the knights, most of whom had reported to Castle High Crag on his orders. Only three knights remained away. Sabbo was on duty at Castle Staten Island because its importance had become evident with the repair of the suits. Smith and Waleski stood watch under new orders on the two sectors most likely to face attack. As the knights entered, not one removed his suit or weapon. They entered silently and waited for a special guard to take up posts at the entrance. Only then did they remove their suits so they could speak without concern that someone might overhear them on the god voice.

  Moto tacked a large pressed leaf on the wall. Such leafs were rarely used by anyone other than a noble or a proctor with one of the recognized religions. In this case, the leaf displayed a map of the Allied Kingdoms. With his sword for a pointer Moto called out names and pointed to areas as he outlined a grid that they would search.

  "If you find any of the stolen suits, call the others and wait for them to arrive."

  "We're to attack as a group?" Ubu asked.

  "I can't think of a better way than finding them one at a time and using your numbers to overwhelm them until Gonzales can reach you. Besides, if you find one, you'll probably find all of them. They may know enough from Basoc on how to activate the other suits. Calling upon the others nearest you appears to be our wisest choice," Moto answered.

  "Will we have to fight to the death? I understand that they've sworn to destroy us," Deliah said.

  "That's what we learned from the prisoner. We can't take any chances. We know what they intend to do to us," Moto said. "After we bury Sir Sergeant Klaus, we will search from one shore to the other. We will recover those suits and avenge our comrade."

  "Will Gonzales fill the remaining suits?" Ubu asked.

  Moto shook his head. "We have to rid ourselves of these spies first." He motioned for Gonzales to step forward. "Gonzales and Sabbo discovered something new at Castle Staten Island."

  Gonzales walked forward to stand beside Moto. "We were there when a storm came in. The castle protected itself and us from the storm by erecting a shield like the one our suits make for our faces. We experimented. I can activate that shield so no one can enter Castle Staten Island."

  "Then why does Sabbo need to stay there?" Jones asked. "He's not a duke any longer. He could help us search."

  Moto stepped forward. "Someone has to tell us if anyone attempts to land there. Sabbo will return here and call for us if that happens. In fact, it was he who recognized that Castle Staten Island is the most important key in our battle to regain the suits. Sooner or later, Basoc will learn of its importance. Then he will have to seek out Castle Staten Island to support his attacks. Also, we still don't know for certain that Coffin is dead."

  ***

  Coffin stared at her restored sword hand. She flexed the muscles with difficulty, not understanding that she'd have to relearn how. Though still immobilized, she realized that the bed, as she called the device in which she rested, possessed more features than any bed she'd ever lain upon. Nowhere had she encountered a bed that could rotate so that she sometimes rested on her back and other times hung against a taut covering that covered her body. Nor had she ever experienced a bed that could raise her to standing and sitting positions. Beyond that, the bed had forced her to walk at times, though she went nowhere. When asked, god had only replied that it was physical therapy. She'd finally given up on asking much. Instead, she'd accepted that god was keeping her alive without food and restoring her body. However, water seemed to be furnished whenever she asked for it, though she still wasn't sure why she had to sip through a clear, hollow reed. Handing her a mug would have given her practice.

  ***

  The knights left the chapel with their suits on once more. Their faces remained grim as they lifted off one by one to fly to their prearranged starting points. As they flew off, each watched the directioner for signs of an active suit other than their own. The first to leave High Crag reached their destinations by that evening without incident.

  The following morning, the knights rose with the sun to fly at a moderate pace in what passed for a rough line. Their directioners provided their one real tool as they had no illusions of spotting anything with the naked eye from the air. Instead, they knew that they'd encounter a new dot on their directioner once they came within the calling range of any active missing suit. When that occurred, they would give chase from the air like a pack of predatory chasers.

  ***

  For the tenth time since returning to Castle Staten Island, Sabbo walked over to the invisible wall. He reached out to touch it as reassurance that it was still there. As before, it resisted his attempt to reach beyond it. Unlike the first time when he jammed one finger hard enough to hurt, he was more careful. Then again, he also had a carefully drawn line in the sand to guide him in judging where the wall stood.

  Turning away from the wall he studied the sky, and muttered, "I hope that's not a storm coming in."

  ***

  "Basoc, I mean, Cosab!" one man hollered. Basoc glared at the man for using his real name. "Sir, this bag is expanding," the man said in a more normal tone.

  Basoc examined the bag containing one of the stolen suits. Upon opening the bag, he discovered that the suit was open. "How did you do this? What did you say?"

  "I said nothing."

  "Then it had to be something you did. How did you open this suit?"

  The man stared inside the bag at the suit. "I only shifted it from one arm to my other because my arm was tired. Nothing more than that, I swear."

  Basoc rub
bed his bearded face while he considered his options. He knew that the suit could be placed upon anyone including himself. What he didn't know was whether the suit would obey or even come off again, short of killing the wearer and butchering the body to remove it. Even then, it would be difficult. He knew that for a fact.

  He'd recovered suits before from knights killed in action after their bodies had decomposed in the burial sand of Castle Staten Island. The skull was the most difficult part to remove because it had to be broken into pieces. Doubtless, not many knights would want to know that their remains might be violated, but it was the only way the Order knew of.

  "Is something wrong, Cosab?" the man asked.

  "No, nothing's wrong," Basoc said, as he realized that he could have stolen a suit or two long before by claiming those were washed from the graves by a storm.

  An isolated death here and there over the years could have given him a few more suits had he claimed that those couldn't be found. He could have significantly lessened the odds currently against him. Instead, in trying to fool them, he had behaved too much like the other knights when it came to recovering the suits.

  "I'm thinking about the suits. There must have been a way for the suits to be taken off of a dead knight that we don't know." The man stared at Basoc. "Think about it, soldier. Don't be a dumb peasant. Wouldn't it make sense for others to know how to remove someone from one of these suits while the wearer was unconscious or dead? These have to have more in common with our own armor than giving protection. Any fool can take armor off an ordinary knight." He ordered, "Show me where you gripped the bag before it opened. Then switch your hold."

  The man placed the bag under the one arm as he'd been holding it. Self-consciously, he switched the bag to his other arm. When he finished, Basoc took the bag from him to inspect the locations where the man appeared to touch the suit. Reaching inside, Basoc snapped the suit closed so he could withdraw it, only to not see anything that he hadn't seen thousands of times before. Basoc soon thrust the suit back into the bag. He wondered at the same time whether Coffin was dead because the suit he examined was hers.

  "If it happens again, don't move anything other than your lips to call to me." Basoc glared at the other men carrying suits. "That goes for all of you. If something causes the suit you carry to open, call for me and stop all else that you're doing. Remember, the Knights of the Star are human like ourselves. They perpetrate the myth that they're selected by god, because it covers their own inadequacies and failures. They can be beaten."

  ***

  Sabbo left the island when he became certain that a large storm was sweeping toward it. Without shelter, he had no choice in the matter. As matters stood, he felt himself buffeted more than usual as he ordered his suit toward Castle High Crag at his best speed. His teeth chattered unavoidably by the time he reached the shore. Despite his face shield, each breath he took contained a coldness that struck deep into his chest before dissipating.

  "There he is! Follow me!" Eusis shouted excitedly over the god voice.

  Sabbo glanced at his directioner for a moment, before he realized by the movement of the dots that they were heading his way. "I'm Sir Private Sabbo. You're heading for me."

  "You're supposed to be at Castle Staten Island," Moto said over the god voice.

  "Storm came in. I had to leave. How many of the suits did you recover?" Sabbo replied.

  "None. We're finishing our second sweep of the kingdoms. We hoped we'd finally succeeded when we spotted you," Moto said.

  "You searched everywhere?" Sabbo asked.

  "They must have taken the suits to Kron," Ubu said.

  "We'll meet at Castle High Crag, except for Waleski and Smith," Moto said.

  Chapter 34

  Freed at last from the bed, Coffin stood on shaky legs. She was unaware of how many days and nights she'd spent in a special bed meant to prevent bedsores and muscle atrophy. Instead, she attributed her weakness to a lack of solid food. Though she was unaware of it, several parasites had been removed, both internally and externally.

  "God, I know you created me, but it's not very warm here. May I have my robe?"

  Bright lights briefly illuminated Coffin. Among them, small lasers fed her measurements into a complex formula meant to create clothing with room for maximum comfort and agility. Equipment that hadn't been used in a century produced a set of clothing because the technology built into it was conceived with self-maintenance features. The ship's designers knew that they couldn't send technicians along for everything that might break down. Instead, they'd designed the equipment to maintain itself using nano-technology for as long as the ship possessed power. That was guaranteed so long as the ship's solar panels lining its hull could deliver what was needed. The same feature figured into the design of the combat suits. So long as those could obtain power they'd repair themselves in the field. It wasn't the designers' fault that the new people using the suits kept the empties in a shaded hall most of the time. That had unavoidably slowed down the recharge rate and with it the repair capability.

  A sliding sound to one side of Coffin caused her to step back and look about the room. She spotted the open drawer that caused the sound. Inside it, she found black clothing produced in exactly her size. Though amazed at the speedy response to her request, she hesitated as she viewed the unusual material. Most nobles didn't own clothing woven as fine as what she touched. She glanced around first before deciding that the clothes were truly meant for her. Coffin reached in to take the clothing into her hand. She felt of the fine weave before deciding moments later that somehow that wasn't how the clothing was made. The two pieces were both as black as the suit she wore as a knight. She knew without question that she was to wear what god gave her with her armor.

  After a quick examination, she pulled the top on over her head. Snug without binding in the least, the fit amazed her for a moment before she remembered to slip the bottom into place. It was only then that she spotted the footwear. She withdrew it to place those upon her feet to discover with amazement that even those were custom fitted. She could distinguish that each was meant for one foot and only that foot. When she walked a few paces, she felt like she was flying because of the overall comfort. Her sandals had never been that comfortable, nor fit quite that well.

  "God, I should rejoin the other knights so that I might serve you. I thank you for returning my hand and missing fingers. It must be my fault that I can't control them quite as well as before, because I know you would never create imperfection. I will try to overcome my limitations in serving you. Please show me the way out."

  A door opened in response. Certain that god was granting her request, Coffin walked out of the medical wardroom at a slow pace so she could see as much of god's world as he might permit. Instead, she viewed only pastel-colored walls for the most part. She didn't know that most of the ship's internal workings were behind panels so those could be protected from contamination on those occasions when the ship performed a surface landing. Even the blood from the dead crew members was long ago erased by the self-cleaning features the ship possessed. She had no way of knowing that one of the crew died just short of reaching a medical station where he might have received life-saving care.

  She would have understood, though, why the ship could recognize medical emergencies only at special stations. Her own people knew that only so much could be bought or placed in one location at a time. It was solely a matter of compromise. In order to have one desire, another had to give way. Her father, Duke Ulla wanted once to forge a mighty mounted force capable of reaching throughout the kingdom so that he might impress his king and benefit the people. However, he didn't have enough mounts or armor to do so.

  He would have died sad had his daughter not succeeded in becoming a Knight of the Star. Her accomplishment, despite the man she murdered, did much to earn his respect and their king's respect for him. As well, the fact that god accepted her as a knight went a long way in the king's eyes. He stated that there was no way that
Sir Corporal Coffin could murder and be accepted by god, such was his belief in the Order's teachings. Therefore, it couldn't have been murder after all. Because such verdicts resulted from closed hearings, there was no appeal allowed by anyone not in favor of the rendering. Coffin learned upon leaving the chapel that she'd been found innocent of murder, despite her true guilt. Of course, the king had also reasoned that it would be good to have a royal among the Knights of the Star as he had no doubt about her real guilt. The innocent verdict was merely a political expediency.

  Upon reaching an intersecting hallway, Coffin glanced down each direction in hopes of seeing someone, perhaps even god. "Which way, god?"

  "Left."

  So ingrained was the spell word, she turned instinctively in the correct direction. She moved along slowly so she could view whatever might be visible, and also because she was still regaining full use of her body. However, there was little to see that she could understand.

  ***

  "Does it matter whether we remove our suits this time?" Wong asked.

  "We should act as though it does," Moto replied. "Take off your suits. Then we'll discuss our choices."

  A murmur of voices carried through the chapel as the knights deactivated their suits. Some held onto their suits so they could place them back on quickly should an emergency occur. Others, more at ease with their circumstances, set their suits beside them within reach. Only Moto set his down and stepped away from it so that he could face the other knights. He glanced around until he was certain that all of the suits had been deactivated.

  "Some of you have already confided in me several ideas. Even though I believe that they've sent the suits to Kron, it's also possible that only some have been sent there. It is because of this that I insist we not speak under circumstances where they might pick up our words over the god voice," Moto said.