Dragonlance 08 - Dragons of the Highlord Skies (7 page)

5

The Oath and the Measure.

An assignation

ir Derek Crownguard did not like being a guest at Castle Wistan, but the knight did not have much choice in the matter. His own holdings—a border castle north of Solanthus—had been overrun by the forces of the Dark Queen and was, so he heard, being occupied and rebuilt by enemy troops, now in control of all of eastern Solamnia. Derek’s younger brother had died in the assault. When it became apparent that the castle would fall, Derek had faced the choice of dying in a hopeless cause or staying alive to one day return and reclaim his family’s holdings and their honor. He had fled, along with those of his friends and troops who had survived. He sent his wife and children to Palanthas to live with her relatives, while he had traveled to Sancrist Isle, there to spend weeks discussing with his fellow knights how best to recruit and organize the forces that would drive the enemy from his homeland.

Derek had recently returned to Palanthas, frustrated and irate, his plans having been thwarted at every turn by men who, in his opinion, lacked courage, conviction, and vision. In particular, Derek Crownguard despised his host.

“Gunthar has become an old woman, Brian,” Derek said grimly. “When he hears the enemy is on the march, he cries ‘Alack-a-day!’ and dives under the bed!”

Brian Donner knew this was a ridiculous charge, but he also knew that Derek, like some gnomish device, needed to release steam or else blow up and do damage to those around him.

The two knights were similar in build and in coloring and were sometimes mistaken for brothers by those who did not know them—a relationship Derek was quick to refute, for the Crownguards were a noble family of long lineage and the Donners came of more common stock. Both were blonde and blue-eyed, like many Solamnics. Derek’s hair was a darker blonde, now graying, as were his mustaches—the traditional long and flowing mustaches of a Solamnic knight—for he was in his late thirties. The main difference lay in their eyes. Brian’s blue eyes smiled. Derek’s blue eyes glinted.

“I don’t agree with Gunthar’s views, but he’s not a coward, Derek,” Brian said mildly. “He’s cautious. Perhaps too cautious …”

“His ‘caution’ cost me Castle Crownguard!” Derek returned angrily. “If Gunthar had sent the reinforcements I asked for, we could have held off the onslaught.”

Brian wasn’t sure about that either, but he was Derek’s friend and a fellow knight, so he conceded the point. The two refought the battle for the hundredth time, with Derek detailing what he would have done if only the requested troops had arrived. Brian listened patiently and agreed, as always, to everything Derek said.

The two were exercising their horses in the meadows and forests outside the city walls of Palanthas. They were alone, or Derek would not have been talking as he did. Though Derek might despise Lord Gunthar, the Measure required that a knight support a superior in word and deed, and Derek, who lived and died by the Measure, never spoke out against Gunthar in public. The Measure said nothing about respecting and supporting a superior in one’s private thoughts, however, so Derek could vent his anger alone to a friend and not be guilty of breaking the code of conduct that was meant to govern the lives of the Knights of Solamnia.

Derek and his friend had ridden out for a gallop some distance from the city. The two had returned only yesterday from the meeting of the Knightly Council on Sancrist Isle, a meeting that had devolved into a shouting match. Derek and his supporters advocated sending troops into battle against the dragonarmies immediately, while Gunthar and his faction proposed waiting until their troops were better trained and better equipped and suggested that perhaps they should make some attempt to forge an alliance with the elves.

Neither side proved strong enough to prevail. The knighthood was splintered; no decisions could be made, no action undertaken. Derek believed Lord Gunthar wanted a knighthood divided, since that meant nothing would get done, and he had walked out of the meeting in a rage, choking back words a man must never say to a fellow knight. Though Brian did not entirely agree with Derek, he had supported his friend, and they had boarded the first ship to make the channel crossing from Sancrist to Palanthas.

“If I were Grand Master—” Derek began.

“—which you’re not,” Brian pointed out.

“I should be!” Derek declared vehemently. “Lord Alfred thinks so, and my lords Peterkin and Malborough …”

“But only one of those knights is a member of the Grand Circle and eligible to vote—even
if
a Grand Circle could be convened, which it can’t, due to the fact that there are not enough members.”

“The Measure provides the means to form a Grand Circle in such dire circumstances as we now find ourselves. Gunthar is deliberately blocking the formation because he knows that if a Grand Circle was convened this day, I would be elected Grand Master.”

Brian wasn’t so certain about this. Derek had his supporters, but even they had their doubts about Derek, just as they had doubts about Gunthar. The elder knight could not have blocked the formation of a Grand Circle unless other knights were content to let it be blocked. The reason? Caution. Everyone was cautious these days. But Brian wondered whether caution was just a more palatable word for fear.

Fear—the stench of it had been rank in the meeting hall. Fear that Solamnia would fall to the force of the dragonarmies. Fear that the ruler of Solamnia would no longer be the Knights who had governed this land since the days of their founder, Vinus Solamnus. Fear of the man who was now calling himself “Emperor of Ansalon”. Most of all, fear of the dragons.

The dragonarmies had a distinct and terrible advantage over the knights—dragons. Two red dragons could wipe out a force of a thousand men-at-arms in a matter of moments. Brian knew that even if Lord Gunthar had sent those reinforcements, Castle Crownguard would have fallen. Derek probably knew it, too, but he had to keep denying it or be forced to face the bleak truth: no matter what the knights did, Solamnia would eventually fall. They could never win against such overwhelming odds.

The two men rode in silence for a long while, letting their horses graze on the late autumn grass that, blessed by the warmth of the sea breezes, was still green, though the trees were losing their fall colors.

At length, Brian said, “I find something about this war very strange.”

“What is that?” Derek asked.

“They say the dragonarmies go into battle with prayers and hymns to their dark goddess. I find it strange to think the forces of evil march under a banner of faith, while we, who are on the side of good, deny the gods even exist.”

“Faith!” Derek snorted. “Superstitious claptrap is nearer the mark. False ‘priests’ perform a few flashy tricks they term miracles, and the gullible moan and wail and fall on their ugly faces in worship.”

“So you don’t believe the goddess Takhisis has returned to the world and brought this war upon us?”

“I believe men brought this war on us,” said Derek.

“Then you don’t believe there were ever gods,” Brian said. “Back in the old days. Gods of Light such as Paladine and Kiri-Jolith?”

“No,” said Derek shortly.

“What about the Cataclysm?”

“A natural phenomenon,” said Derek, “like an earthquake or a cyclone. Gods had nothing to do with it.”

“Huma believed in the gods—”

“Who, these days, believes in Huma?” Derek asked with a shrug. “My little son does, of course, but he is only six.”

“We never used to believe in dragons either,” Brian remarked somberly.

Derek grunted, but made no reply.

“The Measure speaks of faith,” Brian continued. “The role of the High Clerist is as important as that of the High Warrior. Knights of the Rose, such as yourself, could once cast divine spells, or so history tells us. The Measure speaks of how knights of old could use their prayers to heal those wounded in battle.”

Brian was curious to see how Derek would respond to this argument. Derek was devoted to the Measure. He knew many parts of it by heart. He lived his life based on it. How could he reconcile the Measure’s admonition that a knight should be faithful to the gods with his avowed lack of faith?

“I have read the Measure very carefully on this,” said Derek, “and I have also read the writings of the eminent scholar Sir Adrian Montgomery, who points out the fact that the Measure says simply a knight must have faith. The Measure does not say that a knight must have faith in
gods
, nor does the Measure speak of any god by name, which those who codified it would certainly have done if they thought the gods were an important aspect of a knight’s life. Sir Adrian contends that when faith is mentioned in the Measure, it refers to having
faith in oneself
, not in some omnipotent, omniscient, immortal being.”

“What if there is no naming of gods in the Measure because it did not occur to the writers that the gods needed to be named?” Brian argued.

Derek frowned. “Are you being flippant?”

“No, of course not,” said Brian hastily. “What I mean is this: what if the knowledge of the gods and belief in the gods was so pervasive that the writers never imagined a day would come when the gods would not be known to the knights? There was no need to mention the gods by name, because everyone knew them.”

Derek shook his head. “That seems unlikely.”

Brian wasn’t so sure. “What about healing? Does Sir Montgomery explain—”

He was interrupted by a shout coming from behind them.

“My lord!”

Both men turned in their saddles to see a rider galloping down the road, yelling and waving his hat in his hand.

“My squire,” said Derek, and he rode to meet him.

“My lord,” said the young man, “I was bidden seek you out to give you this.”

The squire reached into his leather belt, drew out a folded missive, and handed it to his master. Derek took the note, read it through swiftly, and looked up.

“Who gave you this?”

The squire flushed, embarrassed. “I am not quite certain, my lord. I was walking through the marketplace this morning when this was suddenly thrust into my hand. I looked about immediately to see who had given it to me, but the person had vanished into the crowd.”

Derek handed the note to Brian to read. The message was short.
I can make you Grand Master. Meet me at the Knight’s Helm at the hour of sunset. If you are distrustful, you may bring a friend. You should also bring 100 steel. Ask for “Sir Uth Matar” and you will be directed to my room
.

Brian handed back the note to Derek, who read it again, his brow creased in thought.

“‘Uth Matar’,” Brian repeated. “I know that name. I can’t think why.”

He glanced at his friend.

“You don’t intend to go!” Brian said, astonished.

Derek folded the note carefully and thrust it into his glove. He started riding back in the direction of Palanthas. The squire fell in behind them.

“Derek,” said Brian, “it’s a trap—”

“With what purpose?” Derek asked. “To assassinate me? The note says I may bring a friend to ensure against that. To rob me? Relieving me of my purse could be accomplished far more easily and efficiently by accosting me in a dark alley. The Knight’s Helm is a reputable establishment—”

“Why arrange a meeting in a tavern at all, Derek?” Brian asked. “What knight would do such a thing? If this Sir Uth Matar has an honest proposition for you, why doesn’t he come to call upon you at your dwelling place?”

“Perhaps because he wants to avoid being seen by Gunthar’s spies,” said Derek.

Brian could not allow such an accusation to go unremarked. He glanced back at the squire, to make certain the lad was out of earshot, then said with quiet intensity, “Lord Gunthar is man of honor and nobility, Derek. He would as soon as cut off his hand as spy on you!”

Derek made no comment. He said instead, “Will you accompany me tonight, Brian, or must I seek elsewhere for a true friend to watch my back?”

“You know I will go with you,” Brian said.

Derek gave him what passed for a smile, which was nothing more than the creasing of the firm, tight lips, barely visible beneath long blonde mustaches. The two rode back to Palanthas in silence.