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Authors: Michael A. Stackpole

The Dark Glory War (11 page)

BOOK: The Dark Glory War
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But I’d not heard Leigh scream, so I refused to surrender.

The voice returned. “You have been chosen to join an elite assembly of men and women, most of whom you do not know and never will know. They all labor in the same cause, pulling in the same direction, to stave off the collapse of civilization into murderous barbarism. The correctness of their mission is not in question, merely your willingness to join them. Are you willing?”

“I am.”

“You, Tarrant Hawkins, will swear a solemn oath. If you betray us and reveal what you know of us, your right hand will wither, your right eye grow dark, your tongue will swell up to choke you, and your ears will bleed. Say it.”

“I, Tarrant Hawkins, swear that if I betray the society and reveal what I know of it, my right hand will wither, my right eye grow dark, my tongue swell until it chokes me, and my ears bleed.”

A golden glow began above my head, then descended over my body. It tickled as it moved down and in its wake left my limbs tingling as if they had been asleep. My legs could not support me and I went limp. Somehow the chamber adjusted for this and I quickly found myself seated on the floor, with my knees under my chin and my arms flopped around them.

I should note that writing the words you are reading could be taken as a violation of my oath. My right hand remains strong, my right eye bright, my tongue has not swollen, and my ears do not bleed. I can only conclude that either the society never had the power to enforce that oath—something I do not believe—or that whatever mystical agent governs the oath does not consider what I am writing to be a betrayal.

The heat built sharply in the chamber, then exploded into a twisting green torrent of fire. It swirled around me faster and faster, sucking the very air from my lungs. My robe burst into flames in a heartbeat, then my vision dimmed and the world went black.

I awoke covered in sweat and bathed in a translucent blue glow. I still sat with my knees clutched to my chest, now utterly naked. I reached out with my right hand, moving only a couple of inches, and touched the glowing blue wall that defined the edges of my world. It felt firm and rasped slightly against my fingertips, but I sensed a fragility there as well. I pressed a finger against it, the flesh beneath my nail going white for a moment, then the wall cracked. I applied more fingers and pushed a bit harder, breaking away a small triangular piece.

Cool air flowed in through the hole, bringing a smile to my face. I picked away at the hole, enlarging it carefully. When I’d cut a bar across my oval prison’s wall, I set my elbows against it and pushed them outward. More of the shell cracked. I smashed my head up and back, then cranked my arms around as far as they would go. Another flip of my head cast the top of the egg off and I stood.

To my left Nay smashed a fist up through the top of his blue egg, then kicked his way free of the front of it. Beyond him Leigh emerged through the top of his egg, much as I had, then kicked his feet free and stomped the eggshell into dust. Standing there, watching them emerge, I tried to brush off the ash of my robe, but only smeared it along my sweaty flesh.

The three of us occupied the central of five positions at the edge of a bowl-like depression. The bowl descended through three stepped levels, with men and women wearing brilliant red-, yellow-, and orange-hooded cloaks standing on all of them. At the bowl’s center rose a circular dais upon which stood two men. They wore the same sort of robes their fellows did, though one’s cloak was edged in blue and the smaller man’s was edged in black. Beyond them, beneath the side of the bowl facing us, an arched passageway led deeper into the facility.

A hand emerged from beneath the smaller, stoop-shouldered man’s cloak and pointed toward us. “Behold, my brethren, from the flames we have eggs, and from the eggs we have new Minor Hatchlings. You should know them to be Bosleigh Norrington, Naysmith Carver, and Tarrant Hawkins. Study them, guide them, seek aid from them. Reveal to them no secret before their time, report those acts which do them praise or no credit and, in whichever way you are able, see to it that they have done no harm.”

As one the people gathered in the room reached up with their right hands, touched their foreheads, then brought the hand down, palm open and up, to linger at waist height for a moment before returning beneath the cloak.

The little man resumed speaking. “There, you three have seen the first of our signs, the most important one. It conveys an understanding of what has been said, and a willingness to comply with the obligation therein. Were the descending hand closed into a fist, or the face turned away from the rising hand, a lack of compliance or a failure to understand would be indicated. Do you follow?”

I touched my right hand to my brow, then lowered it with a palm facing the center of the room, as did my two companions.

“Good, very good, all of you.” The old man bowed his head respectfully in our direction. “We are the Ancient and Most Secret Society of the Knights of the Phoenix. In the time when theweirun fashioned themselves into the world and the gods had not risen from their dreams, many magickal beasts roamed the world. The dragons are still among us today, but other creatures have passed into legend. One of these, the phoenix, builds a nest, immolates itself, then is hatched anew from the ashes. So it is that we have gathered together, across the world, to guarantee the rebirth of that world when it is faced with crisis. We are guided by Erlinsax’s wisdom to pursue Graegen’s Justice, often employing the skills granted to us by Kedyn to accomplish our ends. Do you understand?”

Again we repeated the gesture we’d learned.

“Very good.” The small man opened his arms. “Who among you has proposed we accept these Minor Hatchlings into our flock?”

The man standing behind him spoke, and I recognized Lord Norrington’s voice instantly. “I did, Most Revered Flock Lord.”

“And the reason you commended them to us?”

“Though yet tender in age and unseasoned in the way of war, these three slew temeryces and a vylaen. Their quick thinking and selflessness saved the lives of comrades and allowed authorities to be alerted to the danger lurking in Westwood. Because of their actions, this danger has been destroyed, and we are now aware of greater danger to the world.”

The small man, who I came to suspect was Heslin, turned a full circle to study the other Knights gathered in the assembly hall. “Does anyone speak against them?”

Silence answered him.

“Does anyone speak for them?”

A Knight below us took a step forward. “I would ask leave to speak in their favor, Most Reverend Flock Lord.”

“Granted, Greater White Phoenix.”

“Brothers and sisters, we have all heard the tale of what these three did. It is within our power to acknowledge that the acts they have performed are beyond the expectations we demand of Hatchlings. I would suggest we accept them as Minor Fledglings, making it incumbent upon them to learn all knowledge they must possess for their new rank, and the rank they have passed by.”

Heslin again looked around the room. “Does anyone speak against this elevation?”

Silence reigned. He nodded slowly, then looked up at us. “You have been granted a great honor here, one which you will come to appreciate more and more as you progress in your knowledge. As a Fledgling there are three things you must know immediately. The first is this.”

Heslin threw back his hood. Underneath was a simple black mask the same size and design as our moonmasks. He closed his left eye and touched his left index finger to it. “If you see this done and then the person points at something, be it nothing more than spilled wine, or as serious as spilled blood, you will turn a blind eye to it and speak of it to no one save if commanded to do so by an assembly of Knights. You will endure whatever temporal punishments are meted out for your silence, knowing that you are furthering our cause.”

He then touched his left index finger to the outside corner of his left eye and brought it back to touch his left earlobe. “If you see this done, know that the person doing it is one of us and wishes to speak in private with you. You will, at your earliest convenience, without raising alarm or attention to yourself, seek this person out and speak with him—always within the strictures of silence demanded of you.”

The mage then reached out with his right index finger and drew a shape in the air. It burned with a golden light similar to the emblem on the wall. He started with a horizontal line, then added two shorter vertical lines that touched it a third of the way in from both ends. At the left end he drew a short vertical line that descended below the horizontal for as far as the other verticals rose above it.

“This symbol you will recognize as marking the Fledgling entrance to one of our meeting places. If you see it, know that your presence is demanded. Touch it and you will be taken to the place where you may best serve the society. Do you understand all these symbols?”

Raising my hand and lowering it I indicated my understanding. Nay and Leigh did likewise.

“Good. As Fledglings you will be tutored in our ways— here in our assembly hall, or in other assembly halls. Your duties are simple at this stage: obey your superiors, pursue all lawful duties, and provide succor to those who require it of you. The Most Ancient and Secret Society of the Knights of the Phoenix is proud to have you among us.”

Heslin applauded us and the others joined in. We did nothing but smile as they clapped. It did not occur to me except when they were filing out, with their colorful cloaks melding into a riot of color, that I was stark naked. I looked down and took some minor comfort in the fact that, given the grey ash smeared over me, and the dim light this high in the bowl, much of my nakedness had been clothed in shadow.

Heslin, Lord Norrington, and a third man whom I quickly recognized as my father ascended the stairs toward us. My father wore a big smile, whereas the other two kept their expressions more under control. Each one of them carried a cloak that was mostly brown, quilted together out of feather-shaped strips of cloth. Only the lowest rank of feathers had been made of yellow.

Heslin held his cloak up to Nay. “These cloaks you will wear here, marking you as Minor Fledglings. When the hides of the temeryces you slew are tanned, a mantle of temeryx feathers will be added to each.”

My father gave me my cloak. “You don’t know how proud you have made me, Tarrant.”

I smiled at him. “And you don’t know how happy I am to hear that. I promise I will continue to do so.”

“As will you all, I have no doubt.” Lord Norrington reached beneath his cloak and drew out three black temeryx feathers. “You are each entitled to affix one of these to your moonmask. It should put an end to the rumors of what you did or did not do out in Westwood.”

“A feather won’t still tongues that wag.”

Lord Norrington nodded. “True enough, Nay, but they might slow them.” He turned and waved the way back down the stairs. “You can clean the ash off and dress again in your clothes. I believe you were all off to see your friend, Master Playfair. He has been told you were delayed, and the pot of beans is already there.”

“Thank you.” I almost started to say that Rounce would be surprised to hear what had happened to us, but I realized I couldn’t say anything about our initiation to him. Another thought followed on the heels of that one as quickly as a wolf taking a lamb. “Rounce will never become a Knight of the Phoenix, will he?”

My father stiffened, then shook his head. “The injury to his knee is not good, Tarrant. He won’t lose the leg, but it will never work right. His father might send for an elf to magick it back together, but there is no telling if one will come or would be successful.”

Lord Norrington rested a hand on my father’s shoulder. “His injury would not bar him, but we tend to draw members from the military. Your friend, he’s a good man, and will have a future. It will probably not be with us, but others of the Great Societies will see his worth.”

Nay’s head came up. “Other Great Societies?”

“There are others, all of whom agree with our ends, but differ as to the methods to reach them.” Heslin pressed his hands together. “We are at war with none of them, though our differences do make cooperation difficult at times. It is nothing with which you should be concerned at the moment.“

The mage lifted a hand. “There is one last thing to keep in mind: you know who we are, and other Knights may make themselves known to you. Inquire of no one if they are one of us. Be discreet in making your signs and pursuing your duties. While we have no true enemies, we are not always seen as friends. Yours is to wait and watch and learn; that is enough for now.”

I touched my hand to my brow, then displayed my palm. Nay and Leigh had done so as well.

Heslin nodded. “It looks as if this clutch is quick and full of promise. This is good. Given what brought you to us, we have never needed such as you more than now.”

Te went to see Rounce that night, and several times over the /next couple of days. I can remember how his face would ‘ light up upon seeing us and he would thank us for having saved his life and his leg. I did not doubt, then or now, that he was sincere in his thanks, but I always caught a hint of bitterness beneath his words. The healers had bound his knee up tight in a canvas splint with oaken stays, keeping it straight and stiff. Even though Rounce could get up and put weight on it—a little anyway, though he mostly got about on crutches— we all knew he would never walk right again.

Rounce would never be a warrior, and even though he might not have been perfectly suited to that life, the fact that he had been denied it so quickly and definitively always left him wondering what might have been. In all the chronicles of the events that took place subsequent to his wounding, he was only mentioned as a victim—sometimes even misidentified as a shepherd or woodsman the three of us had rescued. That temeryx might not have killed Rounce, but it killed the person Rounce could have been, and the survivor left behind would forever muse about how things would have been different had he been in my place or Leigh’s.

BOOK: The Dark Glory War
12.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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