The Sworn Knight by Robert Ryan (romance book recommendations TXT) 📗

inthe throne room, yelling and screaming until foam flew from his mouth. The manhad gone mad, which was small wonder. It was said that use of the Morleth Stonedid that, but there must also have been a weakness there originally. Otherwisehe would not have used the stone in the first place.

But there were ramifications. All night, the Night Fliers, thename many in the city had given to elù-draks, had circled the skies andscreamed. No one had gone abroad, and fear ran wild in the city. They made noappearance during the day though.

But terror roamed the streets in daylight too, if not asbadly. Soldiers had marched incessantly, striding ahead and thumping their waythrough the city sending fear before them. That was their purpose. So too theelù-draks. Both were displays intended to cower the populace and show them whowas in control.

It worked, at least on the surface. But all the displays ofpower could not stop word from spreading. Caludreth, one of the old KingshieldKnights, a man admired and respected, a man that was a threat to the kinghimself, had been rescued from the custody of the king’s soldiers. News of thathad spread to all quarters of the city, and hope, if hidden, bloomed in everyheart.

The king could not stamp that out. Not easily. It would taketime. But it was not enough by itself, however good a start it was. What wasneeded now was to build on that, but Menendil was not sure how. The more hethought about it, the more he drew a blank. But whatever happened next, it laidthe foundation for the coming of the seventh knight.

Everything was for the seventh knight. Everything hinged onhim. That was the prophesy of old, and Menendil believed it.

He had always believed it. But it had been good to hear Caludrethsay it was so, and even better to learn that he had met him.

It had happened in Nurthil Wood, apparently. The lòhrenAranloth, and a second lòhren, had brought a young man and a young woman to theforest in search of refuge. Knight Lindercroft had been hunting them. Caludrethhad been clear that no precise reason had been given. But he had pieced ittogether, given news of the fall of the knights at the same time.

Lindercroft had been tracking down the young manspecifically, but there was something about the girl as well that drew Caludreth’sattention. What it was, he could not say. But he did have the instinct of aknight. At any rate, he was sure that one of them was the seventh knight. Whyelse would Lindercroft be after them? Why else would no less than two lòhrensbe protecting them?

Caludreth had said the young man and woman had come fromDromdruin Village. That was a type of confirmation as well. It was not widelyknown now, and Caludreth had not mentioned it, but Menendil’s own father hadbeen a knight. He had told him once that Dromdruin was the birthplace of many aKingshield Knight, and that the old blood ran strongly there. The first king’sown brother was said to have established a summer manor there and to have livedout his life establishing the province, and many were the heroes out of theShadowed Wars who served him there. It would not be a surprise at all if thatland gave rise to not just a knight, but the seventh knight.

Menendil sighed. It was all guesswork, yet still there hadbeen another type of confirmation. This one had been circulated in the city forquite some time.

Word had spread widely that raiders had infiltrated into therealm and robbed and burned Dromdruin Village, killing everyone there in theprocess. The king himself had said that to his ministers, and from them thatstory had gone out among the people. Yet the raiders were never identified, nora reason given they would attack a simple village with little to no wealth.Now, Menendil knew better. It was an attempt to hide the truth. The kinghimself had ordered the destruction and murder, and he had done so to try toeliminate the seventh knight. It was typical politics, but that made it nobetter.

What should be done now though? That was the questionMenendil asked of himself, but he found no answer. Caludreth had been rescued.Hope swept through the city, but the Hundred had no plans to utilize thatsentiment to advantage. That must change, and soon.

He stood up slowly. He liked it out here in the sun, but itwas time to go inside. The inn would open shortly, but before that he wouldtalk to Caludreth. The man was a knight after all, and well versed in politicsand strategy. What would his solution to the problem be?

Menendil found him in his room. He seldom left during theday, lest someone recognize him. He had shaved his moustache and cut his hairshort so as to lessen the chances of that. And he wore poor quality clothing aswell. But the best way to avoid being recognized was not to be seen. Certainly,he never entered the common room downstairs where the patrons drank.

“Have a chair, my friend,” the once-knight offered.

Menendil took the one offered, and Caludreth pulled up hisown. He sat in the manner of a soldier, the back of the chair before him andhis hands resting on its top. Menendil sat the same way. Old habits died hard,and this was a simple means of placing a protective barrier between yourselfand the person you spoke to. Even if it was unnecessary, it was just the waysoldiers were. A few years of training became a lifetime’s instinct.

“What news?” Caludreth asked.

Menendil told him what he had learned, but did not mentionthe nine men who had died. That was a burden that Caludreth need not bear forhis freedom.

But the man asked anyway, knowing the information was leftout.

“How many, friend? How many died to rescue me?”

Menendil told him then, reluctantly.

“It is a hard price to pay, and I am not worthy of it. Butstill, I have some resources. Later, if I survive, I will see their familiespaid a compensation.”

Menendil was impressed. Nor did he doubt the knight. Untilthe Kingshield Knights had fallen, no one’s