Pools of Darkness - James M Brown [60]
"If we don't do something, the paladin will die," Evaine insisted.
Ren glared deep into Gamaliel's eyes. For the first time, he noticed their deep golden color and catlike pupils. But the revelation was lost in his fury.
"This is an affair of honor," the ranger croaked through bruised vocal cords. "Whatever happens, you must not interfere. We can fight and defeat this creature together if the paladin falls, but first we must give the paladin a chance to win."
The battle between the strange warriors raged. The paladin knew he was losing. He wasn't fast enough to keep up with the steadily moving ghost. More and more of the evil blade strikes found their marks. In a desperate move, the paladin threw down his magical shield and gripped his weapon with both hands.
The ghost shouted with glee and swung his blade to cut into the discarded shield. Black flame met holy power and, with a loud ringing, the shield was split in two. But the ruined halves of the shield stuck fast to the blade. The ghost's misty face showed his shock and anger as he awkwardly tried to recover his weapon. The paladin struck, cleaving the ghost from head to thigh.
The only audible sound to mark the passing of the ghost was a soft, "No, not again." The warrior spirit shriveled into a thin black mist and evaporated.
The paladin fell to his knees, gripping the broken remains of the shield. Instead of a cry of joy at his victory, the knight murmured, "What have I done? What have I done with the gift of Tyr? I should have known Zarl would attack the shield when I threw it down."
"What would have happened if you hadn't thrown down the shield?" Ren now crouched quietly in the grass behind the knight. The others stood behind him.
The paladin turned to look at the five strangers. "After my destruction, Zarl would have easily defeated all of you. He would have then used his evil to raise an indestructible undead army and sweep the continent. His goal would have been to destroy every living thing in Faerun, even if it took a thousand years. He was evil and destructive in life, and he remains so in death."
Andoralson expressed his compassion for the knight. "I believe Tyr would think one holy relic was worth the lives of millions of people. Don't you agree?"
Talenthia bent down to help the paladin to his feet. "Take off that heavy helm and let me see your wounds. I'd be happy to heal you, if you'll allow me."
The paladin rose, but gently removed Talenthia's hands from his arms. "In all honor, I must tell you my story first. When I take off my helm, do you all promise to let me finish my tale?"
The companions glanced at each other, but all nodded in silence. After the scene that had just unfolded, they were curious. Ren looked at the smoldering black blade still lying on the ground and wondered what fantastic story lay behind it.
Miltiades lifted his war helm. Talenthia gasped. A barely audible growl arose in Gamaliel's throat. The group saw the head of a horrible skeleton. Like his foe, the paladin was also undead!
"I am a paladin of Tyr. I died a thousand years ago. Please listen before you think of destroying me."
The pleading sound of the knight's voice was hard to ignore. A face with empty eye sockets and withered skin turned to Ren; the knight knew instinctively that the others would take the ranger's lead. Wisps of hair still clung to the parchment skin on the knight's head. Bones creaked as the undead paladin moved.
Ren sat on the grass, motioning the others to do the same.
"We want to listen to you, but I have never heard of paladins rising again to serve their god."
"I understand your doubts, and I thank you for this chance. As I said, I died a thousand years ago. In life, I served my god Tyr faithfully and wholeheartedly. I fought the enemies of my faith across all of Faerun. Because I was so successful, other followers of Tyr gave me the Holy Shield of Tyr, my magical