The pale face turned toward Huma and then back to the High Warrior. With the same lack of emotion he always displayed, Rennard said, “Of course. You know I will.”
“Good.” Lord Oswal was asleep almost immediately after that. The two knights stepped away quietly. When they were backed up by the door, Rennard turned to Huma.
“He wants you at the Council meeting.”
“What about him?” Huma feared for Oswal’s health.
“He’ll be there. I’ve promised to take care of him.” Rennard actually smiled slightly. “I have everything in hand. You’ll see.”
Huma made sure that he was one of the first to arrive.
Not all Knightly Councils were open to the population of the Keep. Most consisted only of the ruling knights and any persons involved with some portion of the agenda. There was also a set pattern to events, steps that were followed under normal circumstances. It was the feeling of the ruling body, though, that selecting a replacement for the Grand Master was something all should be involved with and, while not everyone could fit into the chamber, the knighthood as a whole would be well represented.
The masters of the Orders of the Crown and the Sword were already seated. Arak Hawkeye tugged at his tiny goatee and stared rather arrogantly at his counterpart of the Sword. Huma did not recognize the man next to Lord Hawkeye. It was not the same knight who had commanded the Order of the Sword these past four years. The former commander had died in the war to the east, and his replacement had been chosen on the battlefield out of necessity. The knight’s angular face reminded Huma of an idealized statue more than a man. His mustache was long and trimmed narrow, his eyes nearly invisible under a thick, shaggy brow. When Bennett entered, it was clear who was the true ruling power in the Order of the Sword, for the other stiffened.
Eventually, the chamber was filled and the waiting began. Only two people of consequence were missing, Rennard and Lord Oswal, The Knightly Council waited patiently, members constantly conferring with one another during that time. At last, Bennett stalked imperiously over to Lord Hawkeye and spoke sharply in an undertone. Hawkeye responded in kind, and the argument raged for several minutes. Regrettably, they were not speaking loud enough to be understood, and Huma could only guess at what might have passed between them.
Just then, Rennard rushed in, out of breath. There was intense strain on his face, and the image of the normally placid knight in such a high emotional state was enough to cause more than one person to rise in expectation of bad news.
Rennard whispered quickly to Lord Hawkeye. Bennett and the other Councilors listened in as best they could. Bennett’s face turned white, and he gripped the nearest chair tightly. Arak Hawkeye stood up to face the suddenly anxious crowd.
“This meeting is postponed until further notice. I regret to inform those assembled that Lord Oswal of Baxtrey, High Warrior and master of the Order of the Rose, has been stricken ill—by the same disease that claimed the Grand Master.”
“A quarantine has been imposed on the Keep. Lord Oswal is not expected to live through the night.”
Rennard was still shaking.
“I came to wake him as he requested and found him unconscious and shivering in his bed, despite being covered by two or three blankets. I administered what aid I knew and then fetched a cleric.”
Huma had never seen him in such a state. It was almost as if the pale knight was reliving his own brush with the plague.
“What did the cleric do?”
“Little. The disease baffles him. Another gift from the Queen, I suppose, damn her existence.”
“Is there nothing that can be done?” Huma suddenly felt weak. Lord Oswal was his mentor, his friend, the closest thing to his father. He must not die!
“We can only wait and pray.” Was there a hint of bitter mockery in Rennard’s voice? Huma could not really blame him. He himself felt so powerless. The Dragonqueen, Crynus, and the renegade mage Galan Dracos must be laughing at their fate, he supposed.
“Huma.” Rennard laid a hand on his shoulder. The pale face was still strained. How much Rennard had cared for Oswal! “Get some sleep.”
They were in the outer chamber of the Keep’s Temple of Paladine, where the High Warrior had been carried in the hopes that the gods might influence Lord Oswal’s recovery. At present, the clerics treating the elder knight were in a quandary. One moment they would believe they had beaten the disease, the next moment it would come back, stronger than before. Time was running out. Lord Oswal’s body could not stand many more severe swings in health.
Rennard smiled faintly. “I promise you, I will alert you should there be any change.”
Despite his good intentions, Huma suddenly felt sleepy, almost as if the mere mention of it had made him recognize that fact. He nodded to Rennard and stood up.
“You will wake me.”
“I promised Lord Oswal that,” Rennard replied bitterly.
As Huma departed, he could still hear Bennett’s voice coming from the side chamber where the clerics conferred. Bennett seemed to care for his uncle almost as much as he cared for his father. At news of the High Warrior’s sickness, it had been Bennett’s voice that had prevented the panic and organized the temporary quarantine and the shifting of the ailing noble to the temple. Now, the Knight of the Sword divided his time between praying for his uncle and arguing with clerics, whom he thought were reacting too slowly to the crisis.
What of the war? It was as if forgotten by those who cloistered themselves within the walls of the Keep. The thought nagged Huma all the way to his cot.
He woke abruptly, his mind startlingly clear. Lord Oswal was his first thought, and Huma immediately assumed the worst. Others slept on, far more used to the daily loss of precious life, it seemed to him.
Huma slipped out into the night and peered around. In the dim torchlight, he could make out sentries keeping vigilant watch on the walls while others patrolled the courtyard. Guards still stood before the doorway leading to the High Warrior’s abode. That was a good sign.
Unable to sleep, Huma decided to return to the temple. That Rennard had not come for him did not surprise-him; the pale knight evidently meant to keep vigil through the entire crisis, if at all possible.
The rain had still not let up, and the courtyard was turning into a bowl of muck.
The temple of Paladine seemed oddly dark as he neared it. No one stood guard, which did not surprise him. But as he made his way up the steps and was about to knock upon the temple doors, he noticed that one was slightly ajar. Pushing it open, he discovered the main corridor also dark. That, he knew, was not as it should be. Here there should have been a sentry or at least a cleric.
Suddenly Huma found himself before one of the Knights of the Rose whose duty it was to act as honor guard and—for this crisis—guardian for the ill High Warrior. The knight stood at the doorway, looking quite stern, and Huma almost hailed him until he realized that the man would not be standing in darkness unless there was a very good reason. Stepping cautiously, Huma made his way across the marble floor and did not stop until he was face-to-face with the guard.
The Knight of the Rose stared back, but did not see.
Huma held a hand before the other’s face. He could feel and hear the man’s breathing, but it was the breathing of one deep in sleep. Huma dared slap the knight lightly on the cheek. The guard did not stir.
Leaning closer, Huma inspected the open eyes. They were glazed. He had seen men like this before, men who had been drugged for one reason or another. Huma suspected the Knight of the Rose would remember nothing about his lapse of duty. He also suspected something similar had happened to the rest of the temple’s inhabitants—including Rennard.
With a prayer to Paladine, Huma drew his sword. He followed the darkened halls until he came to the place where Rennard had sat, only to discover that the gaunt knight was gone. The doorway to the room where Lord Oswal lay resting also was partially open, and Huma discovered two more guards in the same comatose condition.