Sword of Light (The Knights of the Golden Dragons - Book One) (22 page)

           
She silenced his words with a light
touch of her finger to his lips. Tana backed away from him, fighting her own
desire to be near him, but knowing now was not the time. "You seem to
excel at finding trouble, Gregor. Let me have a look at you. So what is all
this? The work of master Firebeard is unmistakable; however, the meaning of the
symbols your armor bears is unfamiliar to me."

           
Gregor could not hide his disappointment
at her withdrawal from their embrace though he recovered quickly, relating his
acceptance by the God of Light at his vigil. He briefly touched on the meaning
of the symbols he wore and told Tana of the path that brought him to meet her
once more. She nodded, listening intently, and did her best to hide the
feelings she had herself so recently discovered. The man that stood before her
now was still a boy in so many ways, yet it had been all she could do to not
return his innocent embrace moments before. The forgotten rogue brought the
pair out of their preoccupation.

           
"If it’s not too much to ask,
could someone get this animal off me?" Boremac had lain quietly beneath
his keeper throughout the exchange between Tana and Gregor, but enough was enough
and he decided if the wolf meant to eat him, then so be it.

           
Tana turned to the rogue, smiling.
"Sorry about that. Fang, come!" As the man rose to his feet, he was
aware of a large number of arrows nocked and pointing in his direction. There
was also the matter of the mountain man that still held ill feelings for the
tossing the rogue had given him. "I guess we should give you a chance to
tell us who exactly you are and how you came to be here. The words between you
and the assassin give me little hope for your redemption."

           
Gregor spoke in the rogue's defense
before Boremac could get his tongue moving. That probably saved his life, as
certainly as
Three-
Paw had by knocking him out of the
first arrow's path. "He is a friend to Master Silverwing, and to myself as
well, though I do not know his name. He spent a great deal of time at the
Temple of Light, with instruction to watch over me I suspect, though we never
spoke. Gregor turned to Boremac. "You were the one who killed the summoner
at my weapons trial, am I right?"

           
Boremac bowed with a flourish to the
knight before him. "I am that man, master Gregor. Boremac is how they call
me and I am at your service. Master Silverwing sent me to watch over you until
you were knighted at the Temple though an enforced vow of silence restricted my
contact with you. Father Oregeth insisted I hold my tongue and focus on my past
sins while I was within the Temple. The priests are very sticky about certain
rules where their faith is concerned, and I was treated as any other acolyte.
Still, when there was a need for my skills, I was able to do what was necessary
to protect you."

           
Tana narrowed her eyes at the rogue.
"A saint in a snake's skin. Care to explain the exchange between yourself
and the assassins that lie strewn about us? There seemed to be only a minor
difference in each party’s intent until we started shooting."

           
Boremac had anticipated this line of
questioning, considering the first arrow had clearly been intended for him.
"When one comes upon a nest of snakes, it is safer to assume the guise of
the slithering creatures than to bare your flesh to their fangs. I was saddled
with the protection of Gregor by Lord Silverwing himself, and guided to the
young Knight by the God of Light. Divine guidance does not give me divine
insight. I proceeded in the best manner I knew without knowing the numbers I faced.
You cannot deny the end justified the means in this case. Despite the danger to
my person, I can assure you Gregor’s safety was foremost in my mind. Are the
marks on my body not proof enough for you?"

           
Gregor spoke up with the last
statement, noticing as if for the first time the multiple bleeding wounds and
tears in Boremac's leathers. "Lower your weapons or be ready to bury me
beside him!" Gregor moved between the archers and Boremac, examining his
wounds. Blood painted the rogue’s leathers and many punctures still bled freely.
Gregor remembered the wound Lord Silverwing had sustained so long ago and he
feared for the rogue now. "I thank you, Master Boremac. If you had not
come when you did, I would certainly have been overcome and the loss of life
among these protectors of the wood would have been terrible. Please rest
yourself and allow me to tend to your wounds."

           
Boremac raised his voice to the
assembled rangers and druids. "Finally, a voice of reason among the
accusers! You would do well to learn from the actions of this Knight among
barbarians!" The rogue raised a fist in defiance before collapsing to the
ground in a heap.

***

           
"I don' know
what’cha
thinkin
’
trustin
’ his kind. No sense in it, none at all." The
mountain man's words were the first thing Boremac became aware of after he
awoke. The rogue could feel the warmth of a fire nearby and a heavy gauntleted
hand resting on his chest, protectively monitoring his steady breathing. He
decided to keep his body motionless a bit longer. The group that had come upon
his attempt to save Gregor appeared to be in deep discussion concerning his
fate.

           
"I cannot disagree with
Gregor's measure of the man at this point, Dramor, though I am not real
comfortable with the bandit. He stinks of lies." Boremac flinched inwardly
at Tana's biting words. There was little doubt that she was in charge of the
group, and her decision would carry a great deal of weight.

           
Gregor's reply to her vitriolic
statement brought the rogue little comfort. "I sense no threat in the man
and his actions, though questionable, do stand up to his explanation. If Master
Silverwing has seen to call on this man to protect me, I can find no reason to
distrust him. My mentor's wisdom is far greater than mine, and he has taken the
measure of this rogue."

           
A new female voice entered the
counsel. The lilting tone of this one’s words spoke of ethereal beauty, almost
forcing Boremac to expose his conscious state. "Your mentor’s sight may
have been tainted, Lord Lightsword. These are evil times. One should take
nothing for granted. We should bind the rogue until we are able to take proper
measure of his intent. He clearly voiced his intentions concerning you before
he was aware of our presence." Boremac did not like the way this
conversation was going, not one bit. He cursed silently as once more the naive
knight attempted to come to his aid.

           
"Mistress Sephia, I appreciate
your concern but I think you go too far. The divine gifts that restored his
flesh would not have flowed into my hands so readily to save one bent against
the powers that grant him life. The knitting of his wounds only reinforces my
beliefs where the rogue is concerned. Who are we to bring harm to one the God
of Light has seen fit to heal? If we are to question him so be it, but you will
not bind my charge."

           
The delicate voice answered with her
even tone, though Boremac sensed more than heard her disgust. "Do what you
must, Lord Lightsword. You should be aware that your charge has awakened and
has been listening for some time. Even now he deceives you."

           
The hand resting on the rogue's
chest came up abruptly and Boremac's eyes sprang open to find Gregor's own
looking into his. Boremac felt it was time to come to his own defense.
"What? A man awakens to people discussing how best to undo him and you
think I was going to spring up and announce my awareness?" Boremac sat up,
pushing Gregor aside, as his eyes filled with the flames before him. "My
thanks to you Gregor, or Lord Lightsword or whatever they're calling you now,
for your faith in a misguided soul trying to make up for poor choices. As for
the rest of you, if my options are arguing with you for acceptance with the
promise of being trussed up and sent to the local constables, or giving over my
charge to you group of tree dwellers and making my own path, I will bid you
farewell and hope your Gods and Goddesses give you strength enough in your
quest. Gregor, your God chose me, not the other way around and I do not pretend
to understand why. Take my words for what you will and decide what you want to
do because you are wasting time." Boremac then cast a withering gaze
around the fire, daring each person in turn to meet his eyes and finding few
that would. "Time is not something you can squander, and you would do well
to take advantage of the aid offered, no matter what you think of the
source."

           
Tana's voice lifted before another
could object to the rogue’s speech. She brought her hands up to signal her
desire for silence as Boremac set his arms across his chest, feigning
objection. "Your twisting tongue holds just enough wisdom to keep me from
cutting it out. Answer me this, bandit, and make it quick. How did you come to
find Gregor? The obvious answer would be that you were lying in wait with the
others. If I can find no other reason, I will cut your throat myself."

           
Boremac took only a moment to
consider her threat before deciding that honesty was the best course to follow at
this time, though he was not pleased with sharing the truth of his journey. The
path that had led him here seemed ridiculous even to his own ears as he related
it. "My blades brought me here, though not in any manner you would expect.
Trusting any higher power, outside that which governs my luck, has never meant
much to me in the past. A low glow came to the hilts of the daggers I was
gifted from Master Firebeard, the master smith from Nactium, and I could find
no reason for it save a sign from the God of Light whose priesthood blessed
these weapons. I acquired a horse and rode hard down the road toward Nactium.
Master Silverwing charged me with waiting for Gregor in the city of Zanthfar at
our last meeting, but it took no leap of faith to think the young Knight might
find trouble making his way to the city. My assumption seemed to be confirmed
the farther I got from Zanthfar, as the light from the daggers intensified the
closer I got to this place. Seeing no point in announcing my presence, I
cloaked the daggers within my leathers and pointed the horse back towards its
home stables in Zanthfar before I made my way into the woods where Gregor had
been captured. I assume you were present when I arrived, though I cannot say
why you did not engage the assassins before I did." Despite his desperate
situation, Boremac could not resist the smirk that bent his lips.

           
"Cepheid noted your arrival and
chose to have us hold, bandit. Whether you like it or not, we saved your life.
Three-Paw, the Wolf that knocked you out of the path of my arrow, was guided by
my words." Her sharp tone softened before she continued. "Dramor took
matters into his own hands and decided to be sure you had no chance to threaten
the other members of the group. He has a certain determined logic that
sometimes puts him into conflict with my direction, especially when he senses a
threat."

           
Dramor interjected his own comment
at this time, so moved was he by her words. "
I’da
had ‘
em
, quick feet or no,
if’n
the knight
hadn
' drew me attention. Save me ears
burnin
' now
if’n
I had."

           
Boremac prepared to reply but Tana
cut him off with a sharp look. "Dramor, still yourself for the time
being." The huntress turned back to Boremac with a brief nod that he could
not decipher. "You are lucky the mountain man was not more focused,
bandit. Dramor knows only one way to dispense with threats. As for your story,
I did note the glowing daggers you wielded against the leader of the assassins.
That is part of the reason you still draw breath. It would have taken no effort
on my part to let her kill you. We had marked all the other targets before my
arrow penetrated her chest. We owe you some small debt for distracting the
killers, but they were doomed from the moment we arrived. Would you turn your
daggers over to Gregor for examination?"

           
Boremac felt the fact that she was
asking him for permission showed definite improvement in his current standing
with her. He turned to extend the daggers' hilts to Gregor as he answered with
a single word. "Gladly."

           
Gregor took the daggers to examine
them and get a better sense of the divine blessing that would give truth to the
rogue's words. The intricate runes traced on the blades were clearly the marks
of the Temple of Light, and the symbols that graced the odd hats that adorned
the two jesters capping the hilts matched the design of his own chest piece.
The work of master Firebeard was unmistakable, as was the guidance he had no
doubt received from one of the more highly placed Temple priests, though Gregor
was at a loss to decipher the meaning of the pair of fools decorating the
pommels. He was moved to say as much as he handed the blades back to the rogue.