Roland Green: Knights of the Sword

The drums rolled, canvas scraped over wood, two splashes sounded alongside Windsword , and it was done.

The voyage to Solamnia was swift, with good sailing weather. It was not so swift that Eskaia and Sirbones did not have time to recover. When Jemar carried his lady down the gangplank, it was merely for show-and when the cheers erupted, he nearly dropped her into the water in surprise and delight.

After that, there was less celebration and a great deal more work, which Pirvan knew would continue well beyond settling Waydol’s men and Birak Epron’s sell-swords. The latter could mostly take service with the knights’ infantry, but the others ended up divided among Jemar’s ships, Kurulus’s ship (with some for other ships and post with House Encuintras), and various kinds of land-bound work.

Pirvan and Darin were so busy that they hardly had time to do more than greet each other in passing. But Pirvan noticed that hard work was slowly taking the young man somewhat out of his grief. He also noticed that Haimya had been right: Darin was turning female heads wherever he went.

Fortunately, the women were not turning his.

Minotaurs can make good teachers in more than war and honor, Pirvan thought. Then he corrected himself. One minotaur at least made a fine teacher.

Sir Marod was of the same opinion. Indeed, his opinion of Waydol was even higher than Pirvan would have dared put into words.

“Waydol could have been the minotaurs’ answer to Vinas Solamnus. When our founder saw that the notion of honor he was bound to still allowed wrong, he did not yield and do wrong. Instead, he devised his own higher standard of honor, and living up to that, changed the world.

“Alas, that Waydol could not live to do the same. I would fear the kingpriest and his ilk less if we did not also have to fear the minotaurs.”

Pirvan nodded. That was the truth by which the knight had to live as an order. He himself would find it hard ever to see a minotaur as an enemy again, unless the minotaur declared himself one.

Sir Marod also kept Pirvan active with business of the knights, so that he not only saw little of Darin but hardly more of Haimya. Indeed, the Knight of the Rose was disposed to keep Haimya at Dargaard Keep until certain matters were negotiated with Istar.

“If you wish, I can also have Sir Niebar and his knights bring your children out here to safety,” Sir Marod added.

Pirvan was fortunately able to discourage that idea, without breaching honor, Measure, or common good manners, before it reached Haimya and provoked her into saying unforgivable things about Sir Marod.

This was as well. Pirvan was not entirely sure he would have wished to silence her, once she began speaking her mind. Sir Marod had many virtues, but a knowledge of women like Haimya was not among them.

Near the beginning of Paleswelt, Pirvan and Haimya finally rode home to Tiradot. Tarothin went with them, to provide some wizardly assistance if needed, and Grimsoar One-Eye wanted to go. However, Jemar had promoted him to command of his own ship, and there was too much work for him.

After a painful farewell to Darin, they rode swiftly. They would have ridden more swiftly, except that Haimya discovered that she, too, was now with child, after many years of thinking young Eskaia would be her last.

Reaching home, they made what was at first a less pleasant discovery. Sir Niebar the Tall and no fewer than seven knights were in residence at Tiradot Manor.

Fortunately, they were paying their own expenses.

“Nothing worth your attention has happened-” Niebar began.

“I will be the judge of that,” Pirvan said.

“Very well. I will tell you all, later. For now, I merely say that if at any time anyone had chosen to attack the manor, they would have faced Knights of Solamnia. Then they would have had to choose between abandoning the attack and declaring war on the knights.”

Pirvan was not sure that his carefully taught men-at-arms would not have been more useful than the knights in fighting off the kind of subtle attack that was more likely than open war. Neither was he sure that he really cared for having a bodyguard of paying guests around the manor until the knights and Istar finished their negotiations. Both sides loved to quibble; neither side was apt to consider the convenience of the subjects of their negotiations.

But there was a babe growing in Haimya, a splendid harvest to be got in, his children and home to know again. Altogether, there was more than enough to keep a man from sitting and fretting in idleness.

It was early Darkember before the negotiations were completed. Word of this came from Sir Marod himself, riding up with an escort of no fewer than fifteen knights.

“We hope to visit a few of your neighbors,” the Knight of the Rose said. “Some of them may need a trifle of expianation as to why they should not trouble you.”

“Are you asking me to inform on my neighbors?” Pirvan said. He was not quite amused, but not quite angry either.

“Well, if you do not speak, Sir Niebar doubtless will-” Sir Marod began. Then he could not keep his face straight, and laughed.

“We will visit all your neighbors, but we will say nothing and you need say nothing either. The mere fact of our visit will be enough.”

Pirvan poured wine. “How fares Darin?”

“One of the matters we settled was allowing him to enter training with the knights. That was our decision alone, but some among us-I name no names-feared that it would offend Istar.”

Pirvan suggested what Istar do with its grievances.

Marod shook his head. “I would have gladly said the same, but I and the other negotiators had responsibilities that you did not. It took some while before we could persuade them that you had done nothing against Istar of your own free will, only through being bound to defend Waydol as a matter of honor and of your orders.

“Then, of course, they wondered aloud why the knights had given you such orders. We expressed curiosity about the kingpriest hiring assassins. What Rubina told Tarothin, the prisoner told Sir Niebar, and your kender friend Trapspringer told everybody, helped considerably.

“The kingpriest is now just barely in the good graces of the merchant lords. I foresee that it will be some years before we hear from the Servants of Silence again, or before he licenses priests of Evil to run wild by land or sea. Even the lawful priests of Zeboim were not happy to hear of their colleagues treating chaos like a toy!”

Marod reached into a belt pouch and pulled out an elaborately sealed parchment square. “All of which is leading up to the fact that the Istarians will hold their peace about this.”

Pirvan looked at the parchment, then took it without opening it.

“I did not give it to you to put in a case and hang on your wall,” Sir Marod said.

Pirvan opened it. It began with the formal salutation:

Be it Known Hereby, to All Brother Knights

and ended with the declaration:

Sir Pirvan of Tiradot, known as Pirvan the Wayward, Knight of the Crown, is hereby elevated according to the Oath and the Measure to the rank of Knight of the Sword.

It was a lucky day at Tiradot, for that evening a messenger brought word of Eskaia’s safe delivery of a healthy girl child. The celebration would have gone on much longer if Haimya had been able to drink more, but she was always sparing of wine while bearing.

She was not sparing of attention to her husband that night, however. When he finally slept, the newly made Knight of the Sword thought himself the most fortunate man in the world.