Death's Knight

by Jena Rey

  Tabor nodded, his gaze moving to Ephema and then Darian before returning his attention to feeding the flame. The fire burned nearly white, contained but much hotter than any fire outside a temple could ever be. “The Sergeant is a good sort. The guilty will be stripped of their positions and required to make reparations. It seems some of the remaining council are of the opinion the men should be turned out to the wild. I can’t say they don’t deserve it, but it seems a foolishness to me. Vengeful men should be kept close where they can do no harm, or killed cleanly if that’s what the law calls for. But that is for them to decide. Hopefully, they’ll be more cautious with their officials in the future.”

  Ianel rubbed a cloth across the armor he’d pulled onto his lap, removing the soil of combat and travel from the bone and steel. “Either way, that’s no longer our concern. I’ve sent messages to the two closest temples who will take on the job of restoring this place and manning it again, at least for the short term. We need to report the loss of the caravan to the Bishop in Tallet and then move on toward the High Temple as soon as possible.”

  “Will you come with us to Tallet, Ephema?” Darian’s voice was gentle. “It’s not the largest of our temples by any means, but it’s a stepping stone on the way to the coast and where our convoy was supposed to check in and resupply. They will be able to help us, and maybe they will know more about your parents.”

  Ephema curled onto one of the more stable benches, the question shaking her out of her contemplation. Her gaze rested heavily on Darian before she nodded. “I… I think I will. I have waited five years for their return. It is time I stop waiting and begin searching.”

  Ianel glanced at Tabor in question, but whatever comments the knight might have had about the new addition to their traveling party he left unasked. Darian caught the look, though he made no mention of it. He knew Ianel and Tabor had taken their oaths only months apart, but Ianel still looked to Tabor as his superior as well as his traveling companion.

  Inwardly, he frowned. He’d assumed Tabor had explained Ephema’s healing abilities to his fellow knight, but the sideways look made him doubt his assumption. There probably hadn’t been much time, and what Ephema’s powers suggested was unbelievable. It was probably just as well that not everyone knew her abilities, as he wasn’t certain Ephema would be willing to show her gift to every Knight they happened upon. They needed to know more about her, and, more importantly in his mind, they needed to keep her safe. The Sisters and the Lich aside, there was no shortage of people in this world that would be willing to use her gifts for their own gain. If they couldn’t protect her from such abuses, they had no right to take her away from the safety of her mountain home.

  “It is too late to leave today. We would only find ourselves on the road at dark, and I would rather be behind walls.” Tabor rumbled. “It’s just as well if we stay a little longer and move about the town so our presence is not forgotten. We will purchase supplies and mounts for you two today, and leave at sunrise.”

  A grin spread across Ianel’s face. “I agree, Brother. I’ve heard it rumored the innkeeper at the Tapper makes a solid brew, and it’s been too long since we’ve eaten anything that wasn’t trail rations. We can spread the good will of Osephetin with some coin and catch up on a few hours of sleep. It will almost be like a vacation.”

  “Perhaps a little, Brother, but remember we have a cause we must be about. I agree our presence may do some good, but not too much brew.” Tabor’s lean face stretched into a grin. “I’d rather not have to tie you to your horse to keep you aboard, Ianel. It bothers Star, and he’s particular in temperament without irritating him further.”

  Ianel snorted, setting his cleaning rag aside. “That only happened once, and it was very good brew.” He stood and stretched. “No time to waste then!”

  The townsfolk were more than happy to accommodate the needs of the Knights, and their coin. The council had declared the Knights be supplied, but other than the first round of ale at the Tapper, Tabor insisted that they paid fair prices for their goods. Knights of Osephetin did not need handouts. Two steeds in good condition were paid for and brought to the stables late in the afternoon. They were far from war horses, but they were of a solid stock and good runners built for travel.

  As the day waned, more and more of the townsfolk came to see the Knights as the initial fear and surprise of their arrival turned to wonderment. Those who were already quiet followers of Osephetin now readily showed their faith and promised to assist in rebuilding the temple. Children whom had never seen a Knight before stood nearby, some shyly and others fearful, until either their friends convinced them to approach, or their parents called them back home.

  Not everyone was happy, and some who walked by made signs against evil or flashed necklaces dedicated to Neikan to show their new dedications, but no one was foolish enough to confront the Knights outright.

  The evening found the quartet making their way back to the Temple. True to his word Ianel had not over-indulged and walked in a mostly straight line. He had a large rib bone in one hand, gnawing the last of the meat away from it with happy hunger, and a large wine skin in the other which he insisted was for ‘later’. Despite knowing they needed to get the scroll to the High Temple and couldn’t tarry, Darian found himself relaxing in the presence of the Knights. He was well aware that the dangers he’d encountered weren’t defeated, far from it, but those dangers were hard to remember as he ate with his Brothers and listened to Ianel’s ribald stories. He decided to consider the peace a blessing from Osephetin. Who knew what the morning would bring?

  Dawn crept into the city, sliding between the buildings and painting the streets in pale light. It was a quiet start to the day, making it hard to think about the howls of the undead and the screams of the dying which had pierced the night. The air was crisp with the promise of snow and dark clouds gathered on the mountaintops, poised to sweep into the valley at the whim of the wind.

  Ephema stood near the head of one of the horses, out of the way of the Knights as they packed supplies into saddlebags and strapped themselves into their armor. Ianel’s eyes might be red-rimmed from drinking, but he made no fuss about the early rise and took on his share of the work without complaint. Even when Tabor made it a point to speak louder than was strictly necessary or to slap his fellow Knight on the shoulder and test his balance.

  The horse shifted, nudging Ephema’s shoulder, and she raised a hand to rest on its soft nose. The horse was a dappled grey gelding with a gentle look to its brown eyes. Ephema had never owned horses, but she liked them. Snelson’s wife, a lovely woman, had shown up at the temple before the dawn and pressed a bundle of herbs and fresh clothing on Ephema. Ephema wasn’t sure what Snelson had told his wife, but whatever it had been, her mothering instincts were in high gear as she tried to assure herself Ephema would be safe and well cared for.

  Ephema appreciated the care, even if she didn’t fully understand its origin. She liked the clothing and had quickly changed, leaving both the scavenged temple clothes and her old clothing behind. It felt something like shedding her old life and preparing for something new. Now she wore traveling clothes, a long-sleeved shirt topped with a heavier tunic and pants which were a little too big, but could be cinched up with a belt easily enough. She’d bundled the offered shoes with everything else and put it in the saddlebag. No one seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn’t push the point. The horse nudged her again, pulling her out of her thoughts, leaning around her hand to catch her hair cloth and chew on it.

  She pulled the cloth and her hair away. “Stop that. I know you have been fed. You have no need to eat my clothing.”

  The jingle of tack and armor caught Ephema’s attention. She watched Tabor and Ianel mount, wondering how they managed with the weight of the armor. Maybe their horses were just that much stronger than her own mount. Darian approached her, and she offered him a soft smile. His presence, frightening only a couple of days ago, now brought a warmth to her heart that s
he didn’t understand.

  He placed a hand on her horse. “We’re ready. The doors are sealed until other disciples can come to restore the temple. I wasn’t sure if you knew how to mount.”

  Ephema looked at the saddle and its assortment of straps and hanging stirrups. “I understand the idea. I haven’t ever tried.”

  To her surprise, and faint embarrassment, Darian dropped to one knee, creating a step out of his other leg. “We can teach you to mount on your own as we go, but for now this will be easier. Grab the sides of the saddle, step up, and pull yourself up. Don’t grab the reins, or you’ll confuse the poor fellow.”

  Warmth touched her cheeks at the unexpected kindness, but she nodded and moved away from the horse. She stepped as lightly as she could onto Darian’s leg, using the boost he provided to clamber onto the saddle. For a moment, a memory tugged at her, sitting at this height with her Father’s arms around her tiny body as the horse walked, keeping her balanced. She remembered his laughter and the brightness of the sun on a summer day. She pushed the memory away, though she held onto the laughter, and looked down as Darian rose. “Thank you. I will try to learn quickly. You should not have to kneel in the dirt for me.”

  Darian laughed, his eyes echoing the sound. “I don’t mind. It won’t take you long to learn. It takes a few times to get the idea, but soon enough it’ll come naturally. It helps that you’ve got a calm horse.” Darian stood and brushed the dust off of his knee. “It’s more difficult while wearing armor, but I daresay you won’t have to worry about that.” He moved to his horse, turning it so she could watch him. “Your foot goes here and then you use your arms and a little momentum to swing up.” He suited actions to words, but she could see that despite his reassurances that the added weight from his armor and weapons made it much harder, even with his strength. She was glad not to be so encumbered.

  “Yes. She’ll never have to worry about armor. I do not believe it is her fate to join the Knighthood.” Tabor brought his war horse, who he’d introduced as Valor, around so he could face the rest of the group. “We ride with Ephema between the Knights. Journeyman Darian, you station yourself behind her to and to the right. There is a way station between here and Tallet. We should reach it by late afternoon and will stay over there unless we find reason to push on. Unless we discover bandits or the like along the way, I doubt we have too much to worry about this fine morning.”

  Ianel snorted. “From your mouth to Lord Osephetin’s ears, Brother.” He patted his horse on the neck, muttering just loudly enough that Ephema heard him. “Not that it’s ever worked before.”

  Ephema smiled. She liked Ianel. He was straightforward and said what was on his mind. He was easier to talk to than Tabor was, though he didn’t hold her gaze like Darian did. Tabor had told Ianel about her abilities last night. Perhaps it was because he had been drinking, but he took the news with little more than a shrug and an eyebrow raise. It was very odd to be so suddenly surrounded. She gathered up the reins, mimicking the others, and hoping that even if she didn’t really know what she was doing the horse did. Tabor led the way through town, and when the others picked up speed, her mount kept up, stepping out nicely along the battered road. A few people waved at the little party as they made their way to the gate and slipped out into the morning.

  No one talked much as they rode, the sound of hooves and the distance between them meaning they would have had to shout to converse. Ephema didn’t mind, accustomed to the silence and enjoying the experience of seeing her world from this vantage. She couldn’t help occasionally looking over her shoulder at the mountain home she was leaving behind. Going back for her few belongings had seemed foolish once she’d decided to join the Knights. They would be there when she returned, or not, it was too late to worry about it now.

  The clouds gathered thickly around the peak of her mountain, and if she’d been home, she would have been inside, huddled against the snow and the cold. Here the sun was waning as the clouds crept down the mountain, and Ephema shivered, promising herself to find another layer of clothing when they stopped for the day.

  The opportunity came sooner than she expected when Ianel slowed his mount, pointing toward a patch of tangled brush at the side of the road. He was the merrier of the Knights, but now his expressive face was grim. “We’ve a fresh kill. Poor bastard must have got caught on the road last night.” He urged his horse, Star, a little farther down the road before dismounting.

  Ephema blinked and glanced toward the brush, but she didn’t approach it. She didn’t want to see what remained of the man. She’d seen enough of the undead’s kills over the years, and it was never an easy experience. “Is there something we should do? Won’t he rise at dark?”

  “Yes, and no.” Tabor didn’t bother looking at the corpse, urging Valor to join Star before he too dismounted. “It’ll be a day or two, depending on when he was killed and by what, before he rises again. If we weren’t here, the hope would be that someone would put him to the flame or an animal would scatter the corpse to delay his servitude to the unholy. But we have time and another option for dealing with the remains.”

  Ephema frowned a little, looking between the men. “You’re not going to…” She waved vaguely at their weapons. “umm…scatter him, are you?” If they were going to destroy the body, she wasn’t sure she wanted to watch. It was one thing when she saw an animal carrying a bone away, that was natural, but it felt wrong for the Knights to take the body apart.

  Darian shook his head. “No. They can sanctify it.” He hesitated before slowly admitting, “Though there have been times when scattering was the best we could do. It’s not pretty, but it delays the rise, often long enough to come back and properly deal with a body.”

  A shudder ran through Ephema at the admission. There was a certain logic to it. The man was dead. It made sense not to allow his body to be used for evil, but she was glad there was another option than dismemberment. She nodded, letting Darian guide their horses to join the others. He dismounted, but she did not, deciding she could watch more easily from where she was, and she didn’t want to get in the way.

  The two Knights drew their weapons and pushed their way into the tangle, moving the brush aside or tramping it down until they could face each other over the corpse. Darian didn’t join them, but knelt on one knee on the side of the road. He unsheathed his mace and set the head on the ground, holding the grip and bowing his head.

  Ephema’s gaze moved from him to watch the Knights. The forest around them was still as though even the little birds didn’t want to interrupt the service the Knights were performing. Each man held his arms out flat, balancing their weapons across their open palms.

  Tabor murmured softly. “Lord Osephetin, guide me.” Blue fire gathered on the head of his maul, racing down the shaft until the entire weapon was engulfed, though it didn’t burn. Ianel echoed the word, and his weapon too burst into divine flame.

  Together they spoke again. The fire flared and each Knight dropped to one knee, slamming the head of their weapon into the ground. Fire surged around them, burning a perfect circle in the dirt and brush and racing inward over the corpse. From where she sat Ephema could hear the crackle of burning brush, though there was no smell of smoke or burning wood or flesh.

  Now all three men spoke, but the words made no sense to Ephema. All she knew was they were words of power, similar to her prayers to the Goddess, but different. She felt the power in their words, the call on the divine, but that was all.

  The moments dragged out, and she saw the strain on Darian’s face. Ianel’s knee dropped, both of his hands wrapping tight around the hilt of his hammer.

  Tabor snapped something that sounded like a command, and the fire lashed forward, bursting into a bright star of power that extinguished itself from the center out in a whoosh of ash and a crack that felt like a physical blow to Ephema. The horses shifted uncomfortably, but none bolted, which Ephema was grateful for. She wasn’t certain she could have stopped her own horse in a p
anic, much less the huge warhorses.

  The silence held for another breath and then a questioning chirp came from one tree, answered by another bird farther away and another. Slowly, the Knights rose and shook the dust from their weapons. Nothing remained in the circle but ash, and the men moved as though they were old and stiff. Tabor stopped where Darian knelt and pulled the young journeyman to his feet.

  “Come, Brother.”

  Darian shook his head, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “Right.” He tried to sheath his mace, but it took twice before he caught the thong. He staggered to the horses, and Ephema stared at him in worry.

  “Are you all right? That did not look easy.”

  “I…” Darian sighed, resting his head against the horse. “Sanctification is cleaner than destruction, but it takes a lot of effort. We’ll be fine. That was just a lot harder than it should have been.”

  “Why?”

  Tabor attached his maul to his saddle and, with far more effort than Ephema’d seen before, pulled himself aboard. “I don’t know. Mount, Brothers, we need to ride, and quickly.”

  Ianel grunted and made a rude gesture at Tabor. He pressed his hand against Star’s shoulder and the stallion obediently lowered himself, making it much easier for Ianel to mount.

  Darian sighed, watching the display. “That’s…not fair.” He pulled himself into his saddle with the same weariness the other men showed. Ephema wasn’t certain he would have managed if he’d been wearing heavier armor, and once aboard he still sagged.

  Tabor checked on them all and nodded, taking the lead. “Onward.”

  It took nearly a half hour for the men to recover. No one spoke, but Ephema noticed them riding higher and with more control. They fell into a mile-eating pace which was easy for the horses, but after a few hours it became punishing for Ephema. She was accustomed to many hours walking or running, but riding was much more awkward. She hoped they might stop for lunch, but they only paused while Tabor handed out chunks of bread and apples and passed around a waterskin. The only real stops were for emptying their bladders, and Ephema’s legs shook so hard she barely made it several feet off the road.