I daresay that it was stricken from the rolls when the truth
of my betrayal was known. I had, after all, murdered one
grand master and attempted to kill his successor. Although
many servants of the Dark Queen fell by my sword, I
betrayed the plans of the knighthood whenever possible and
caused the deaths of many men by my actions, all in the
name of Morgion, dread Lord of Disease and Decay.”
Dornay gasped. “I know YOU! I know the tales that
they whisper, even now!” His handsome face twisted.
“Rennard the Oathbreaker!”
Bowing, mocking, the ghost replied, “I thought myself
forgotten. Yes, I have the dishonor of being him.”
Erik snatched his sword from the ground, held it before
him. His eyes were narrow slits, his breathing rapid. He
began muttering under his breath.
Rennard recognized the litany and was amused.
“Exorcising demons? You are not so well-versed for one of
your rank. I doubt I will be so easily dismissed, even if you
should happen upon the proper chant.”
“Why does the ghost of a traitor and murderer visit me?
Do the gods think you will stop me in my chosen course?
Lucien’s death demands justice! He was murdered
needlessly, and I will see that his killers pay! Now begone!”
Rennard turned his horrific face toward the mortal. “I
would very much like to be gone, Erik Dornay, but not to
where I have been since my death. Peace is what I ask . . .
peace and a sip of water.” He stared into the flame, recalling
the past. “I want nothing to do with you, but something has
drawn me here. This is not the first time I have heard the
song you sang tonight, a song about him. Huma never
would have believed it. He would have shaken his head – ”
“Do not speak his name!” Erik pointed the useless
sword at the ghost as if he still intended somehow to run
Rennard through. “He was everything that you were not,
traitor! He was everything that I wanted to be!”
Wanted to be? thought the ghost. “And so you no
longer desire to be like him?”
The young knight stiffened, then lowered his sword. “I
cannot, not now, not after I kill them.” His gaze strayed to
the woods beyond. “So much has changed since the
Cataclysm. At first they begged for our help. Then, with a
swiftness unmatched even by the wind, the rumors began!
Some of the rumors were not without foundation, but to
blame the knighthood as a whole is unthinkable! If we were
spared the brunt of the disaster, surely it meant that we were
Paladine’s chosen! We should have been their guides on the
path of recovery. Instead, the scum we tried to protect
turned on us. ‘Look!’ they cried. ‘Ansalon shakes and
quivers, people die, and the knights are untouched!’ ”
The young Solamnian laughed harshly. “Some even
claimed we had conspired with the gods, for it was Ergoth,
our ancient tyrant, and Istar, our magnificent rival, who
suffered most. Lucien tried to reason with them – the
ignorant offal. And they dragged him down from his horse
and murdered him!”
None of this made much sense to Rennard. “And was
the knighthood responsible for this . . . this Cataclysm?”
Erik glowered. “How can you ask that? You were a
knight!”
“Yes,” said Rennard dryly, “I was a knight.”
“I swear that we were not!” Dornay’s voice shook. “It
could never be!”
“I see”
After a pause, Erik asked, “Did you really know him?”
“Very well.” Rennard stood silently, his mind a
whirlpool of memories. He stared at the mortal before him
and saw Huma. The similarities were more than skin deep.
Am I supposed to turn him along the proper path?
Rennard asked whoever had sent him. I was a puppet in
life. Am I to be one in death? Better he make his own
destiny, whatever the consequences! At least the choice
will be his!
Rennard saw, to his surprise, that the young Knight of
the Rose was staring at him, not in fear and loathing, but in
desperate need. “Huma . . . What would he have done?