Douglas Niles: Lord of the Rose

“He’s my lord! And I’m going to marry his daughter-the princess!” Crawford exclaimed frantically. “That’s our agreement. Then I’ll get to be the new king! Listen, you’re a good man. I could make you my captain-my captain-general! Please, don’t hurt me!”

Jaymes snorted. “You and Reynaud left good men-lots of good men-on the battlefield to die. Every one a better man than you.”

“I had to get away!” croaked the duke. “I wanted to live! I still want to live! Please!”

“Too bad,” replied the warrior.

The tip of Giantsmiter slipped through skin and flesh, slid between two ribs, and cut through the arteries around his heart.

Duke Crawford died very quickly.

Jaymes let him fall into the spreading pool of his own blood.

When the warrior emerged from the alcove, Captain Marckus was stretched on the gaming table, and a priest of Kiri-Jolith-panting and out of breath-was administering a healing spell. The duke’s miniature armies had been unceremoniously swept onto the floor.

Coryn was sitting in a chair, rubbing her wrists. Her gag and bonds had been removed by Selinda and Captain Powell.

Dram and the two gnomes rushed up the Jaymes, who had sheathed his sword. One gnome hugged each of the warrior’s legs, and even the gruff dwarf looked a little relieved and happy.

“Glad to see you’re all right,” he growled.

“You timed it a little close,” Jaymes replied, clasping his companion’s hand with both of his.

“I offer my apologies,” Captain Powell said, bowing stiffly to Jaymes, then to his princess. “And gratitude to you, my lady. If you had let me hang him when I wanted to, I would have made a grievous mistake, and a great injustice would have been done.”

“Enough of that. We are still in the middle of a grave crisis,” snapped Selinda.

“Yes,” agreed Captain Dayr. “All the dukes are dead, and the three orders are in dissarray. An army of barbarians is gathered on the plains-and already has defeated the forces of Sword, Crown, and Rose.”

“We need a leader who can lead us against Ankhar. Someone who has proven his worth in battle,” Sir Rene said thoughtfully. “Someone who can command all the orders of the knighthood.”

“Yes. It must be someone we can all serve-not just the captains, but the men in the line,” said Captain Powell bluntly, staring at Jaymes challengingly. “Someone who has not been tainted by all this madness. In short, Jaymes, we need you.”

“Are you all crazy?” asked the warrior, shaking his head dismissively. “Is this more of your magic?” he asked Coryn.

“No,” she said, somewhat ruefully. “This is not my doing, though I can’t help but agree.”

Marckus waved a hand, ignoring the protests of the priest urging him to stay calm. Yet his voice was strong. “The men will follow you… they know you are the one who saved the army, at King’s Bridge.”

“You don’t belong to any of the orders,” Selinda said, “but in your own way you follow the Code and the Measure, and you know its power.”

“Est Sularus oth Mithas?” Jaymes murmured in disbelief.

“You shall become the Lord of no Sign.” Coryn looked at him frankly, her hands on her hips. Her face was smudged with smoke, her black hair was in disarray. Then, as ever, she looked very beautiful. “Just as the prophecy foretold…”

“Prophecy?” the warrior shot back skeptically. “That myth spread by hedge wizards and beer-pot witch-doctors! You know as well as I do what I think of that prophecy. Dara Lorimar herself though it was ridiculous when people predicted her as the Princess of the Plains. It’s even more of a joke, with me as a lord!”

“The common people, even many of the knights, believe the prophecy,” said the white wizard, “and they will accept you. That is what is important now. The princess and these captains, are right: You’re the only one who might be able to unit and command this army, bring all three orders together to stand against Ankhar.”

She glared at him as if daring him to argue. She lowered her voice. “Or would you rather Lord Regent du Chagne appoint someone else?”

He blinked, realizing that she must have heard what the duke had told him, seconds before he died. “No. I don’t want that bastard to appoint anyone,” he hissed.

“What?” asked Selinda, not quite certain of what she had heard.

Jaymes turned to say something to her, but Coryn grabbed his arm and gave him a sharp look.

“Later,” said Coryn.

Jaymes turned to Dram, holding up his arms in frustration. The dwarf just chuckled. “Ironic, ain’t it?” he asked with a wink.

The warrior’s head ached worse than ever. He sat down, as Captain Dayr and Sir Rene dragged the duke’s body out of the closet and dumped it unceremoniously next to Reynaud’s.

Coryn rose and looked around. After a cursory inspection of the game room, she went into the duke’s alcove, stepping around the pool of fresh blood. She emerged holding a long box made of shiny, dark wood.

“I recognize this chest. It was stored in Lord Lorimar’s strongbox,” Coryn said. “I saw him put the compact and the green diamonds in this box.”

She set it on the table. It was locked, but a touch of her finger and a murmured word of magic popped it open.

“The stones are gone-but now I think I know where they are,” she added, flashing a warning look to Jaymes. He nodded.

“The Compact of Freedom?” he asked.

The white wizard shook her head. “I heard the late, unlamented duke claim he burned it, and I’m sure he did-at the first opportunity. There is one thing. Something still left, from Lorimar’s legacy.”

She pulled out a white cloth. “For you, Jaymes,” she said, handing the silken bundle to Selinda. “I think the princess should bestow it on you.”

The Princess of Palanthas drew out the long pennant. It was a war banner, white, with several emblems in bright golden thread.

“Crown, Sword, and Rose, on one banner,” Selinda said in wonder. “As in the days of the old Empire.”

The princess bowed slightly and extended the banner to Jaymes, who took it with a grudging expression.

“Raise it over your head,” the princess said encouragingly. “Lead the Army of Three Signs into the field against the foe.”

Bakkard du Chagne’s mirror was dark. His four pawns, the lords he had raised to great heights, were dead. Lorimar had been slain at his command and the other three were destroyed by Lorimar’s avenger.

Du Chagne had seen all that had transpired in the duke’s game room, and he knew that his most closely held secret had been revealed to two important enemies: Jaymes and Coryn.

Action was required, but he was temporarily out of tricks. The mirror in Thelgaard was smashed, broken by the barbarian horde, and Caergoth’s, cracked and damaged, was in the hands of his enemies. As to the mirror in Solanthus, the lord regent had no contact there-the silly slut of a duchess used it mainly for primping.

He was not a man given to violent outbursts, but he suddenly, impulsively, smashed his fist into the glass, shattering it and bloodying his knuckles.

Coryn watched as the Army of Solamnia, under the Banner of Three Signs-Jaymes Markham’s banner, now-marched out of Caergoth. The troops, as she had predicted, had rallied enthusiastically to a new leader hailed by their veteran captains as the Lord of No Sign. Knights had rushed from barracks and rooming houses, survivors of earlier battles had their morale lifted, and recruits had come from all quarters of the city to swell the ranks again.

Now the vast columns of the new army were leaving the city and advancing eastward along the King’s Road. They were prepared to stand against the horde of Ankhar, encouraged by reports that the horde had not yet ventured south of the Garnet River. Cold winds blew from the south, and perhaps this stalemate would last through the winter, but none doubted the campaigning season would bring honor and victory to the knighthood.