There was little more the Grand Master could add, which disappointed Huma, though he did not show it. It was Oswal who broke the uneasy silence by saying, “You have my permission to start out for Ergoth and your mountains. How many knights will you need to accompany you?”
“None.”
“None?” The Grand Master leaned forward, his hands gripping the throne tightly. “As you yourself mentioned, this is a matter of the utmost importance. I want to ensure your success. Paladine has seen fit to give us this chance, but I will not let you take unnecessary risks.”
“What Paladine seeks must be from me alone,” Huma replied. “I feel that now. I cannot explain how I know. It simply feels right.”
Oswal sighed and leaned back. “You say that with great conviction. My head tells me that you are wrong, but my heart listens to you. I think, in this matter, I will go with my heart, for that is where belief begins.”
“Thank you, milord.”
Lord Oswal stood. Huma followed suit. The Grand Master clasped Huma on the shoulders. “Regardless of your birth and who your parents were, I shall always consider you my son.”
They held one another briefly, then Oswal broke away. “Go on. Get out before I become even more a sentimental fool than I am.”
Few knights were around the courtyard when Huma chose to leave. He had wanted it that way. It would make the departure easier, at least for him. A part of him felt as if he were running out, that he should remain in Vingaard Keep until Rennard was found and punished. Yet Huma no longer wanted any part in the other’s capture. He had known the gaunt knight far too long to simply forget all those past times, when the two had been friends.
One figure he did note. Bennett, standing on the parapet and scanning the Keep. The Grand Master’s nephew was still searching for his father’s murderer. The search through Rennard’s belongings had uncovered ancient plans for the Keep that had been thought lost forever. They included two passages within the temple that not even the clerics knew about.
The dour Bennett turned from gazing out at the lands surrounding Vingaard and noted Huma. He nodded slowly and then turned away. That was all.
Huma’s path took him through another half-dead village. He had been riding for an hour. Twice, Huma had met patrolling knights, and each time he had brought them up to date on the futile search going on in Vingaard Keep for the traitorous Rennard.
The inhabitants of this particular village eyed the lone knight differently than those Huma had passed in other places. There was a tension in their very movements, a great sense of fear, as if they expected to see the Dragonqueen herself swoop out of the sky at any moment. Slowly, they began to mill around Huma and his horse.
The warhorse slowed nervously, its nostrils flaring as it stared at possible enemies. Huma pulled tight on the reins, re-exerting mastery over the beast. He did not want to have the lives of innocent commonfolk on his hands.
It soon proved impossible for the horse to proceed, so concentrated had the small crowd become. The villagers enveloped animal and rider in a wave of human fear. Huma began picking up muttered questions, dealing with the events in the Keep.
A grimy, bony claw touched his right leg. A rasping voice asked, “Is it true? Has the Grand Master been murdered? Are we no longer safe?”
“I heard that the Council wants to surrender!” cried out a voice that the knight could not locate.
That last statement increased the anxiety of the villagers. They crowded even closer, oblivious to the danger they faced from the hooves of the trained steed. Huma tried to wave them back.
“Stand aside! Let me through! If you don’t, the horse might hurt you!”
“He’s fleeing!” cried the same voice. “The knights are lost!”
“We’re all lost!” shrilled an old woman. She fainted and was lost in the press of bodies.
“You can’t leave us!”
“You’re tryin’ to save your own skin!”
“Get back!” Faces filled with anger and confusion moved through Huma’s vision. Hands clawed at him. The horse, spooked, reared. Those closest to the animal’s front came to their senses and turned to escape. But those who had been behind them continued to move forward. An elderly man fell. The knight succeeded in calming his mount and then sought to clear a path so that he could help the old man.
“He’s betrayed us all! He struck the elder down! Take him!”
Ragged, gaunt figures surged on Huma. He pulled out his sword and threatened them with it. The villagers backed away but were by no means ready to give up—not when they feared the Knights of Solamnia were abandoning them to the tenderness of the Dragonqueen.
This time, Huma spotted the instigator, a figure clad in the garments of a simple farmer, standing off to the side. The man made no move to run when he realized he had been seen. Instead, he drew a broadsword and revealed once more the face of evil.
Huma directed the horse through the crowd, forcing people back with his sword and thanking Paladine that no one had yet dared him to strike. He reined the steed to a stop less than six feet from the figure.
“Bennett still thinks you might be in the Keep.”
Rennard smiled briefly. “I was until Lord Oswal’s appointment became official. Then I came here to give them the news.”
Huma leaped off his mount, never taking his eyes from his uncle nor sheathing the sword. “To put fear in their hearts, you mean. To break down trust, make us fight among ourselves.”
“It is—my calling. But not just these. Villages all over this area. I’ve not slept since yesterday.”
“They finally found your secret passages.”
“I know. I left the maps on purpose. I had no more need of them.”
“This is insane, uncle.”
“Uncle. A word I never thought you would use. Yes, it is insane. The whole world is insane. I strive to make it less so.” Rennard pointed at the villagers, speaking quietly enough that they would not hear him. “The fear will spread. They will march on the Keep in their desperation, and the knighthood will be forced to drive them away, with at least some loss of life, I believe. The great Knights of Solamnia will suffer both the notoriety of their actions and a terrible blow to morale. I need not go on.”
“This has all been planned.”
“Of course. I could have killed the entire Council, but that only would have strengthened the knighthood’s resolve. That is why I have traveled the near lands, in disguise, stirring the pot.” Rennard straightened and the sword swung slowly back and forth. “My only remaining duty is you, Huma. I knew you would choose this route. I cannot allow you to return to this—cavern. It may be a madness on your part, but I think not. I cannot risk being wrong about something like that.”
His sword came up swinging. Huma immediately blocked the thrust. The villagers stepped away as the two knights fought, but the people’s horribly expectant looks showed Huma that they were waiting to see one of the knights die, so completely had they become Rennard’s pawns.
The gaunt knight swung and gave Huma an opening. Rennard’s skill allowed him to parry much of the blow, but Huma’s blade still slipped under and struck a glancing blow on the other’s right side. The blade clanged off a solid surface beneath Rennard’s tunic, however, and a cunning smile flashed briefly across the pale knight’s features. Beneath the cloth, he still wore his armor.
Their blades clashed time and time again as they struggled through the rain-soaked village. The human wall that surrounded them bent and twisted, but never revealed a gap. Huma wondered what would happen to him even if he defeated Rennard. The villagers might very well fall on him.