The Gates of Winter - Mark Anthony [133]
“Really? It wouldn't be much of a sword if it could be cursed so easily.”
“And are you not a most powerful witch, Lady Grace?”
She frowned at the knight. “Do I know you?”
“You knew of me once, I believe, as I knew of you.”
The knight hesitated, then lifted a gauntleted hand and raised the visor of his helm. He was older than she would have thought, his face deeply grooved, his mustaches streaked with gray. However, there was no mistaking the aura of strength about him. Age had hardened him, not made him weak.
“Sir Vedarr!” Durge urged Blackalock forward, bringing the charger alongside Shandis. “Long have I wondered what became of you since the knights of Embarr were recalled from the Order of Malachor.”
That was how he knew her. Sir Vedarr had led the Order of Malachor after its founding just over a year ago. Only then King Sorrin withdrew his knights, and the Order fell apart.
“We had feared the Onyx Knights and the Cult of the Raven were in control of Embarr,” Durge said. “Surely this is good news to come upon you here.”
“I fear it is not.” Vedarr's brown eyes were sorrowful. “While I will have to think on it, it may be I can let Lady Grace continue on her journey, for I have been given no orders concerning her. Regardless, you must come with us, Sir Durge of Stonebreak.”
His words struck Grace like a slap. “What are you talking about? What do you want with Durge?”
Vedarr worked his jaw, as if chewing over the words before deciding what to speak. “Our present mission is to ride across the Dominion in search of traitors to the king, and to bring them back to Barrsunder.”
“Traitors?” Tarus said, clenching his hand into a fist. “This is madness. Durge is no traitor. He's the most loyal man I've ever met.”
Vedarr gave the red-haired knight a hard look. “And loyal to whom?”
Grace cast a frightened look at Durge. “I know what he's talking about. We learned about it in Seawatch, only I never told you, Durge. I was so selfish—I was thinking only of myself, and how much I needed you.”
Durge's brown eyes were thoughtful. “What did you not tell me, Your Majesty?”
“His Majesty, King Sorrin, recalled all his knights to Barrsunder months ago,” Vedarr said. “Those who have not complied have been branded traitors to the Dominion. It is our mission to find those who have refused the king's call. We have found a few. And now we have come upon another.”
Master Graedin cast a startled look at Durge. “What is the punishment for treason?”
“Death,” Durge said softly.
“So is that why you painted skulls on your shields?” Lursa guided her donkey forward. There was fear on her face, but defiance as well.
Vedarr glared at her. “This does not concern you, girl.”
“All life concerns me. Can you not see I am a witch even as Lady Grace is? And there are many more of my sisters just behind, riding toward us even at this moment.”
The other five Embarrans had raised their visors, and now they exchanged uneasy glances. However, Vedarr's stony expression did not falter.
“I say again, why do you wear a sigil of death?”
“Because,” Vedarr said, “we are Death Knights, or at least so King Sorrin chooses to call us. It is by his command we carry these shields.”
For a moment Vedarr's imperturbable facade cracked, and a recognizable emotion shone in his eyes. It was shame. However, a moment later it was gone.
“Sorrin is completely mad now, isn't he?” Tarus said, shaking his head. “He thinks he can cheat death by pretending to serve it. So he has his men paint skulls on their shields and calls them Death Knights.” His lip curled in disgust. “By the blood of the Bull, sir, how can you bear it?”
Vedarr thrust a finger at Tarus. “You will hold your tongue, Knight of Calavan. It is not for you to question the will of my king.”
“No, it is for you to do that,” Tarus said, his voice edging into a sneer. He was playing a dangerous game, but Grace couldn't think of another tactic. “Only you are