Jeff Crook: The Rose and the Skull

"Nonsense. He understands every word I say. Don't you, my boy?" Gunthar finished by shouting.

The gully dwarf nodded vigorously, upsetting his ratskin cap. It dropped down over his eyes. With a snarl, he grabbed it and bit it, rolling over backwards, tumbling a large dog, which then fell on top of him. A second gully dwarf, thinking the first had caught something tasty, leaped in for a bite. Both vanished in a swirl of gray-furred bodies and filthy, baggy clothes. Gunthar roared with laughter.

"As you say, milord," Liam said.

"Why so formal this eventide, Liam? Whatever is the matter with you?" Gunthar asked.

"May I be frank?" Liam asked.

"Be whoever you like. This is supposed to be a festive occasion," Gunthar joked.

Liam returned his master's attempt at jocularity with a hard stare. The old man's smile faded. Liam then said, "Milord is too lenient with these younger Knights. Listen how they carouse, like common adventurers in some seedy wilderness alehouse. One can hardly hear oneself think in here. They have no respect for your lordship or your house, and milord does nothing when they trample his hospitality. They assault the servants in word and deed, and milord does nothing. We gather here to feast for the slightest of reasons, while the Knighthood deteriorates."

"Well, I just thought…" Gunthar began, but Liam continued.

"Our numbers dwindle, and we replace our losses, out of necessity, under less strict guidelines. This rabble is the result. And rather than using the old Measure to enforce some sort of discipline, milord allows them a free rein," he said.

Gunthar rose from his seat, and though old, his stature was nonetheless dominating. Some parts of the room grew quiet, sensing the sudden tension. The small gully dwarf crawled from beneath a pile of dogs and other gully dwarfs, his rat-skin cap intact but sporting a few new holes. He resumed his seat on the floor before the table, his little black eyes fixed expectantly upon his master.

Gunthar turned to the others at his own table. "Is this true? Do others feel that I am too lenient?" he asked, not in a loud voice, so the others would not hear.

No one responded. Most seemed absorbed in fiddling with the food on their plates. Only two seemed confident enough to return their master's gaze-a female Knight with fiery locks sitting at the left end of the table, and a balding male Knight sitting to Liam's right.

"Lady Meredith, is this how you feel?" Gunthar asked the first.

She opened her mouth to respond but then shut it and merely nodded, turning her attention to the servant refilling her cup.

"Quintayne?" Gunthar then said, turning.

The balding Knight nervously smoothed the wisps of hair still covering his pate. "Out of respect for your lordship…" he began. "Well, we thought it best to… um… well, we thought we could… um… "

"We did not feel it was our place to tell your lordship how to maintain the affairs of his own house," Liam finished.

"Until now," Gunthar said. He slowly resumed his seat.

"I am sorry, milord," Liam said in a low voice.

"Yes, yes, I know Liam. No need to apologize," Gunthar sighed. "Perhaps I am a bit too lenient, but it is only because they are so young. Unlike most of us, who knew from the day we were born that we would become Knights, most of these young people never dreamed that they could one day join our ranks. While we were born and bred with discipline every moment of our lives, they are the children of war and know only the civilian's code of survival. I think if we treat them too harshly, many would leave us.

"A time will come, soon I think, when they shall be forced to learn the hard measures of discipline. We live in relative peace now, but as you all know, in war the only thing that sets us above the rest is the discipline among our ranks on the battlefield. We fight not as a body of individual soldiers but as a single unit, and only our unquestioning devotion to our duty, as defined by the Rule and the Measure, makes this possible."

"This is what we fear most, milord," Liam said fervently, his dark eyes flashing. "When the time comes that they must submit to discipline and direction, they will be unable to do so. Better to teach them now, in peace, than in the fires of war, where one mistake can mean disaster."

"They shall learn their lessons hard or not at all," Gunthar patiently argued. "That is the way of the younger generation. But they'll learn the Measure and the reason for it in practice, not in books or lectures from boring old men. Those who survive will be the better for it."

"But how many will die, how many battles will be lost before they learn?" Liam protested.

"You only have to win one battle to win the war, Liam," Gunthar said, "the last one."

Liam looked away lest his anger get the better of him. None of the other Knights turned his way; most picked at their food or pretended to sip at their wine. A few of the Knights at the other tables had grown quiet and were trying to listen to the dispute between their elders. The tension at the head table had even been noticed by the gully dwarves and hounds, who pricked up their ears and waited for something to happen.

For the moment they waited in vain. While Liam collected himself, the female Knight at the end of Gunthar's table said, "Milord Gunthar, we have feasted here three times this month, each time under the nominal excuse of discussing some aspect of your revisions to the Measure of Knightly Conduct. If we only knew why you have called us here tonight, perhaps it would set some hearts at ease."

"At ease, Lady Meredith? What do you fear?" Gunthar asked.

"Milord, we waste away with luxury and feasting," Quintayne responded before she could answer. "We want fighting and adventure, not more meat and wine." From those younger Knights listening there came many an "Aye!" and an occasional "More meat and wine!"

Meredith scowled at her fellow Knight, but she said, "Sir Quintayne is right. There are many Knights here still in need of their quests. We wonder when these will be assigned."

"Yes, yes, I know. We will get around to that when time allows," Gunthar said.

"When time allows!" Liam whispered incredulously.

"There is still much to do here. We can't be sending our forces all over creation fulfilling quests, not while danger lurks at our back door," Gunthar said.

"Danger?" Liam asked.

"Have you forgotten Pyrothraxus? The dragon who holds all the northern half of our island, including the homeland of the gnomes? As the wise man said, it is never good to leave a live dragon out of your calculations."

"If you are so worried about the gnomes, we should send some knights to try and rescue them," Meredith suggested.

"Or we could send someone to rescue the dragon from the gnomes," Quintayne said. Gunthar snorted, and there were chuckles all around.

"We shouldn't stir up the anger of the dragon," Liam chided the others. "He's left us alone for the most part, and we are not yet strong enough to challenge him. No need to bring his anger down upon us now."

"Liam is right. For the moment, we watch and defend, and spend our time fortifying and garrisoning our northern castles," Gunthar said.

"Garrisoning? With whom?" Meredith asked. "Our numbers are slow to rebuild, even with the relaxation of our admission standards."

"That is why I have called you all here tonight, to discuss revisions to the Measure concerning the admission of Knights into our order," Gunthar said. Liam groaned, as did many of the others.

Twice already this month, Gunthar had summoned them from their castles all across the Isle of Sancrist to feast and discuss this very same topic. Nothing had been settled then, and most doubted anything would be settled now. In truth, the majority of Knights in attendance this evening didn't care. The reputation of Gunthar's table was known throughout Krynn. No one turned down an invitation to dine there. So what if it meant listening to the old man babble for a while? They received a hearty meal in the bargain, not to mention all the wine and ale they could drink. It had been this way for going on two years now, and the younger Knights hoped it would go on for quite a few more. The older Knights were a different story altogether. They began to whisper to one another, pausing occasionally to turn worried glances upon their Grand Master.