Legacy of Steel

15

Derrick told Sara later she slept for thirty-six hours.

When she first woke up, she had no idea how much time had passed. She lay dreamily on her cot, tucked beneath a warm blanket, and let her senses gradually return. Daylight glimmered through the walls of her tent, and someone had kept a small fire burning in her brazier, where her teakettle gently simmered over the embers.

Memories of her night's activities returned with total clarity, and she wondered what time it was. Was she too late to stop Massard from going to the general? At that moment, she did not worry that he had. She made a vow that she would make Massard pay somehow for that horrible night in the temple ruins. He wasn't going to get away with what he did to her.

She lifted her head gingerly from the pillow and was relieved to see her skull was not going to split apart. The tent didn't spin around her and her stomach didn't rebel. A dull headache was all that remained. She sat up and rested on the edge of the cot for a minute, trying to decide if she wanted to find the latrine or go back to sleep.

Voices began to intrude on her peaceful solitude.

She stretched her muscles carefully, pulled on her boots, and climbed to her feet. The voices outside grew heated, and all of them were familiar. Her curiosity was piqued.

A large shadow lay across the entrance of her tent, and at that moment, a faint rumbling began to vibrate in the air.

Sara shook her head. Going back to sleep was obviously out. She untied the tent flaps and stepped outside.

Cobalt sat blocking her exit, his bulk crowded in the space between the tents. His wings were tucked tightly around his body, and his tail was wrapped around the side of her shelter. His head was turned away from her so he could watch the squires and Massard standing near Massard's tent. An angry growl was building in his throat.

None of the people seemed to notice the dragon's ire or Sara's arrival. They were too busy shouting at one another.

Sara edged her way around Cobalt and put her hand on the dragon's foreleg.

Startled and angry, he slashed his head around to drive off the intruder. Then he recognized her and he yanked his muzzle back just in time. His teeth clashed on empty air.

"Sara!" he squealed in delight.

The arguing group stopped in midvoice and stared at her for a full minute before they closed in around her, everyone trying to yell at the same time.

Cobalt had enough. He rose to his full height and roared in their faces. The people fell flat on the ground. Alarms rang over the tent camps. Guards came running, their swords drawn.

"Now you've done it," Sara remarked casually.

The others raised their heads, brushed themselves off, and climbed to their feet as the guards charged in.

"It's all right," Sara said loudly. "He was just trying to protect me."

Knight Officer Massard bullied his way past Derrick and Jacson and shouted at Sara, "Get that dragon out of here! He is a nuisance and a-"

"No." Sara's refusal cut through his words and rang over the voices of the others. The knights and squires suddenly became very quiet. No knight ever disobeyed a direct order without very good reason.

Massard's eyes narrowed. He had a great deal he wanted to say to this woman, but he knew this was not the time or place. Instead, he fell back on his rank as a superior officer to get back some control of a situation he felt was rapidly falling apart. "Remove that dragon, or I will have the other dragons do it for you."

Sara moved out in front of Cobalt, crossed her arms, and repeated "No" in a cold voice of adamant.

"Do you refuse to obey a direct order?" Massard snarled. A flash of anticipation gleamed through his muddy eyes like the flick of a fish's tail. There was more than one way to solve a problem.

Sara saw that gleam in his eye and understood then he had not yet exposed her secret. He was still looking for a way to turn things to his advantage. She had to strike now to silence him before he tried again to stop her. There were certainly enough witnesses for her purpose.

"I refuse to obey an order from an officer I believe to be incompetent and incapable of making decisions for the good of this talon. Therefore I challenge you to a duel for the right of your rank."

Massard's mouth dropped open. Never did he expect anything like this from this woman.

Derrick, Marika, Kelena, Saunder, and Jacson stared at her, appalled.

The other onlookers, the guards and knights, nodded in approval. A challenge for ranking was often the way inferior officers were weeded out.

"A duel," cut in the general's voice. "Are you sure you want to do that, Conby?" The crowd parted, and Mirielle Abrena strode through with Morham Targonne at her side. She ran an eye over Massard, then turned her sharp scrutiny to Sara. "Morham has told me an interesting story, Knight Warrior Conby. So I come here to see how you fare, and I find you challenging your officer to a duel. Is there more you wish to tell me?"

Sara's gray eyes were glacial when she faced Massard. "No, General. There is nothing more. Is there, Knight officer?" Her words were as sharp and pointed as a dagger.

He caught her meaning instantly. For a heartbeat, Sara thought he might risk the extent of her knowledge and try to bluff his way clear, but then she saw him study her from head to toe and make up his mind. She could guess what he was thinking-here was an older woman, lighter, smaller, and poorly trained. She would be an easy kill… .

Massard visibly relaxed. "No, General," he added. "I accept her challenge."

Mirielle lifted her golden eyebrows in amusement. "Very well. Knight Warrior Conby, since you are the challenger, I will give you three days to recover from the concussion I hear you suffered. Knight Warrior Massard, you may choose the weapons. Do you wish to fight dragonback?"

"No," Massard answered quickly.

"Then we will meet at noon of the fourth day in the Arena of Death. Good hunting. Targonne, tell the officer of the watch that Knight Warrior Conby is excused from guard duty tonight. She does not look like she could guard a mouse." The general turned on her heel and left as abruptly as she appeared.

Morham Targonne bowed slightly to Sara. "I noticed the other night that your sword was missing. I will have another sent to your tent tomorrow." Ignoring Massard, he strode after the general.

His snub of Massard, a ranking officer, was so obvious that even the knight officer recognized it. He scowled at the young man's back.

After that, the crowd quickly dispersed. The guards returned to their posts, and the knights and squires fro other talons drifted back to their own quarters. Soon only the Sixth Talon, its officers, and Cobalt remained.

Derrick and the other squires held back and waited while Sara and Massard faced each other.

The knight forgot all else but his own anger and selfrighteousness. He slammed his hands into Sara's shoulders. "You piece of trash," he hissed. "What did you think you were doing following me?"

The force of his blow knocked Sara off-balance. She stepped back on the ankle the horax damaged and sucked in her breath as pain shot through her leg. She staggered and would have fallen if Cobalt hadn't put his foreleg out to catch her.

The dragon hissed in rage; his yellow eyes burned like twin suns.

"Cobalt, wait," Sara said softly. She rose to her full height and met Massard glare for glare. "We are even now. You hold the secret of my past. I hold the secret on your present."

His thick brows lowered. "Which is… ?" he rumbled.

"You are stealing and selling artifacts from the temple for your own profit. The Knights of the Skull-to which, I believe, General Abrena belongs-will not look favorably upon such activities."

His face twisted into a mask of hatred, and he raised his fist as if to hit her again. Only Cobalt's growl brought his hands back to his sides. "You can't prove it," he said sullenly.

Sara shrugged her shoulders. "I won't have to. If you turn me over to the knights, I will give the adjudicator names and places and descriptions of items, even witnesses, and let him find the evidence against you. And he will, you know." She leaned closer and added fiercely, "You should never have dumped me in the temple ruins. After horarxes, nothing you do can frighten me."

Massard actually blanched. "The ruins? I didn't know that. Red Erik just told me his men had found you and disposed of you."

Sara clicked her tongue and said, "Another name. Really, Massard. Forget secrets. They are too costly to pursue. A duel is the best choice for both of us."

The knight jerked his head in agreement. "Three days then, Sara Dunstan. They will be your last." He turned his back on them all and marched out of the camp.

Off to the nearest bar, Sara hoped.

The moment his black tunic disappeared, the five squires crowded around Sara, smiling and talking, their relief obvious on their faces.

"What was that all about?" Derrick asked.

"What happened to you?" Marika and Kelena said at the same time. "We've been so worried."

"What happened since I fainted last night?" Sara countered.

They all laughed.

"Last night! Sara, you've been sleeping a day and a half," Derrick informed her.

"The night watch brought you back from the city yesterday morning," Jacson said. "That Targonne fellow said some gully dwarf came running up to the gate jabbering about a woman who was pushed into the temple hole. They didn't believe him at first, until he described you. Then Targonne took some men and came to the rescue. He said they fished you out barely alive and told us to keep Massard away from you."

Saunder glanced back to where Massard had disappeared, his lean features dark with disapproval. "You should have seen his face when he saw them bring you in. He looked ready to kill."

"Does this have anything to do with your challenge?" Derrick asked.

"Yes." Sara's tone was firm. "The rest is no longer important."

Kelena slammed her fist on her sword hilt. "But why do you have to fight him? He's bigger and-"

Sara cut in, "And meaner and uglier. I know. I challenged him because I believe it is my duty to defend my honor and do what I think is best for those I serve."

"Like General Abrena?" Jacson said skeptically.

"She is quite capable of managing her own affairs. No, I mean you five. You have been given to me as my responsibilities, and I want to do what I feel is right for our future."

The squires looked startled and even rather pleased at her intensity.

The thing that baffled Sara the most was she meant every word of it. These five young men and women were training to become members of the organization she despised, but for this brief time, they had become important to her, and she wanted to give them her best. Maybe one day they would change their minds about the knighthood.

Jacson still sounded doubtful. "Does that include getting yourself killed?"

"I don't believe it will come to that. Massard is basically an overweening, drunken coward. A poor combination for any officer."

No one could argue that.

"So," Sara said, smiling at their serious faces, "what were you all arguing about earlier?"

Their worry for Sara immediately coalesced into a unanimous contempt for their officer.

"Massard wanted to wake you up to stand your watch," Kelena said in disgust. "Cobalt wouldn't let him near you, so he was yelling at us to get you up."

Sara's eyes flew wide and she groaned, "Oh, no! I didn't stand watch the other night. The officer of the guard will have me on charges."

"Uh, well, no, he won't," Derrick muttered. His blue eyes twinkled. "I followed you out of camp, and when I realized you were going after Massard, I reported for your watch. I told the guards you were detained by our talon leader. Which was only a slight distortion of the truth."

Sara thumped his back gratefully. It seemed the Sixth talon was going to look out for her, too. "It's all in your perspective," she said with a grin.

"My perspective tells me it's time to eat," said Cobalt, "If you're awake to stay, I will go hunt."

Sara scratched his muzzle lovingly and sent him off.

It was late afternoon, and a thick blanket of clouds hung over Neraka vale. A few snow flurries whisked around on the evening breeze, and twilight was closing in quickly.

Sara shivered. Despite a day and a half of sleep, she still felt weak and groggy. Her head ached, and her ankle protested every time she put weight on it. She was grateful General Abrena had given her three days. Often a challenge was accepted and the duel fought on the spot, Sara knew that, in spite of her bold words, she would've been an easy victim for Massard this day. In three days, she hoped she would be stronger and steadier on her feet.

She studied the dead fire ring, her lips pursed. What she really wanted was something hot and nourishing, and as soon as possible. "Are there any good places to eat in Neraka?"

"One," Saunder answered, giving his mustache a twist. "An inn in the outer city. Run by a woman."

"Let's go. I'm buying." Why not? Sara thought to herself. She had a few steel coins hidden away in her belongings. She thought she and the squires deserved an evening to celebrate.

Whoops of glee met her invitation. The five dashed off to get their cloaks.

Sara ducked into her tent, found a few coins and her cloak, and fished a small packet of herbs out of her bag. She sprinkled a spoonful of the herbs into a pot of water and let it sit on the edge of her brazier. By the time she returned, the infusion of feverfew and boneset would be ready to help treat her headache.

In a chattering group, Sara and the five squires trooped off to the tavern in the outer city for a hot meal, The tavern was crowded when they arrived, full of caravan merchants, travelers, and city folk, but a barmaid recognized Saunder's tall form in the doorway. She tweaked his mustache, smiled invitingly, and rearranged enough customers to clear a table big enough for the six of them.

At their request, she brought bowls of steaming stew, loaves of bread, butter, a plate of raisin cakes, and flagons of the tavern's hot spiced wine. It was a very quiet group that ate and ate until every bowl and plate was clean and everyone felt full to bursting.

Sara made it back to her tent on her own feet and drank her hot infusion of feverfew. Kelena and Marika helped her into her cot, wrapped her blankets around her, and added more coal to her brazier. By the time they left, Sara was already asleep.

A messenger from Knight Officer Targonne stood outside Sara's tent the next morning as the squires were rising for breakfast. They roused Sara apologetically and told her there was a messenger with a package for her. She rolled out of her cot, feeling sore and aching in every muscle and joint.

The messenger, a young squire, looked at her askance when she creaked out of her tent and identified herself.

Sara laughed inwardly. She guessed she looked dreadful, and here she had to greet this young man whom she could tell-was destined for the knighthood. Tall, bound with muscles, steely-eyed, and humorless, he would make a perfect Knight of Takhisis.

"Knight Warrior Conby," he said, a taint of doubt in his tone. "Knight Officer Targonne sent me to pass on his regards and to give you this sword with his compliments." He handed her a leather-wrapped bundle before he saluted briefly and hurried away.

Sara untied the strings holding the leather together and uncovered the sword that lay within.

"Wow," said Derrick, who peered over her shoulder.

Sara couldn't agree more. The sword was exquisitely crafted, elegantly simple, and well balanced. To her intense relief, the weapon was plain. There were no death lilies or skulls or other evil symbols adorning its surfaces. The steel blade had a diamond profile and a sharp point for thrusting through plate armor or bursting links of mail. The cross guard was copper gilt and polished to a sheen; the grip was made with black horn and ended in a fish-tail pommel. Sara was interested to see that the pommel had an empty space and four prongs in the butt, as if a stone or something had once sat there.

She gripped the sword in her right hand and hefted the blade. The weapon felt good, not too heavy, not too cumbersome. She wondered if it had originally been made for a woman. She switched the sword to her left hand and gave it a swing over her head.

"Come on," she called to the squires. "We have sword drills today."

Massard was nowhere around to gainsay her, so the talon went to the practice fields and spent the morning working on their fighting skills. Sara wrapped her ankle for support, then led the squires through their exercises and drills. When they finished that, she divided the talon into two teams and set up a mock battle. By noon, she was pleased not only with the new sword Targonne had sent her but with the squires as well.

After a quick meal, everyone went his separate way for the afternoon to fulfill his duties with other knights. Since Massard remained absent, Sara had no one to tell her what to do. Her morning's exertions had seriously tapped her slender reserves of strength, and she considered taking a nap. But there was something else she wanted to do, and she decided not to put it off any longer.

Strapping her new sword to her belt, she walked to the main gate and wandered into the streets of inner Neraka. Up one rough crowded street and down another, she wended her way past shops, taverns, and brothels, through the marketplace and along the few residential quarters. She looked in alleys and checked the trash dumps and looked behind every eating establishment. She knew Fewmet the gully dwarf had to be somewhere in the city, but she had no luck finding him.

Finally she had to ask a patrol of guards where the gully dwarves made their homes, and after they finished laughing and making rude suggestions, they pointed in the general direction of the city dump.

"Those gutter rats have a colony of some sort outside the walls near the dump. Look there, but take a mask with you," their leader said.

"Better yet, take an exterminator with you," advised one man before breaking into a fit of laughter.

Sara offered her thanks and left them shaking their heads at the foolishness of women. She walked to the Queen's Way leading out of the walled city and was about to turn toward the main gates when she changed her mind, and on the spur of a strange desire, she turned her footsteps to the center of the city and the ruins of the Temple of Darkness.

The slave gangs were there as usual, working under the whips of the draconian slave masters. A different set of talons was there that afternoon, and knights and squires alike sifted through the rubble for treasures and artifacts under the watchful eye of the gray-robed Nightlord.

It still amazed Sara that Massard had been able to slip anything out of the sight of the sharp-eyed Knight of the Skull.

She stood for a moment at the entrance to the temple compound and took a deep breath. Her heart pounded faster, and a chill stole over her that had nothing to do with the frost in the air. Steeling herself, she walked forward until she could see over the wall into the crater itself. The black opening lay down at the bottom, like the maw of some buried monster. Large ladders poked out of the hole now, and the lines of slaves climbed in and out like ants.

"Do you have some purpose here?" said a deep voice beside her.

Sara nearly leapt out of her skin. She whirled, her eyes huge, her hands held up defensively.

The Nightlord stared at her from under the hood of his robe. The expression on his lean face was disapproving, and his eyes glittered dangerously.

"No. No, I just had to look," she stammered. Irritated at herself, she pulled herself together and asked in a calmer voice, "Why don't you build steps down into the corridor. It would certainly make it easier to get out."

The knight remained motionless as his dark eyes bored into Sara. "Exactly," he finally grated.

Sara suddenly laughed. She had to break the cold clamp of fear around her heart. "I see what you mean. There are some things best left in the dark." She heard footsteps behind her, and she and the Nightlord turned to see General Abrena striding toward them.

The general wore her knight's uniform that day, with |her breastplate and greaves and a magnificent fur-lined cloak. On her armor, the skull emblem of her order gleamed like old bone in the pale afternoon light.

"I'm glad to see you did not lose your sense of humor down there," Mirielle said to Sara. She pushed her hair back with a restless gesture. She shifted on her feet, moving her body in a constant flow of small motions like a dancer who cannot stand still. She seemed to exude energy from every pore.

The Nightlord saluted the general and quietly withdrew. The two women were left alone.

Sara pulled her cloak tighter about her shoulders. Mirielle made her feel tired and very old this day. Wearily she turned away and let her gaze be drawn back down to the pit. "Did you know there are horaxes down there?" she asked quietly.

"Of course. They appeared last year shortly after we began the excavation. We decided to leave them alone. They do not bother the slaves during the day for they are only active at night, and they have proven to be a marvelous deterrent for most would-be thieves."

"But not murderers," said Sara dryly.

Mirielle chuckled. "You are not the first to be dumped down there in the middle of the night. But you are the first to be pulled out alive. You were lucky. The horaxes are much slower when it's cold."

Sara shuddered and pulled away from the wall. Together the two women began to walk slowly across the compound toward a group of officers who were waiting for General Abrena.

"There are other kinds of thieves," Sara said deliberately. "You may suggest to the Nightlord to keep a closer watch on those who sift the rubble."

Mirielle pinned her predator's gaze on the woman by her side. They were very similar in height, so the general's golden-brown eyes could look directly into Sara's cool gray ones. Her expression warmed with understanding. "I will tell him."

Sara made up her mind to ask something she had wondered about for days. "What do you plan to do with the ruin? Are you just going to leave it for the horaxes?"

The general shook her head, her short blond hair blowing around her face. "We will build a new temple to be ready when Takhisis returns."

Sara was so startled by Mirielle's words that she tripped over a stone and would have sprawled on her face if the general had not caught her arm in a powerful grip. Swiftly Sara forced her face into calm serenity while she found her balance and stood up straight. Was this woman serious? And if so, where did she get her information? Or was it just wishful thinking? Whatever it was, the mere thought of Queen Takhisis returning to Krynn was appalling.

"Takhisis will-" she was horrified by the high squeak in her voice and tried again. "Takhisis will return."

"We are planning on it, and when she does, we will be ready."

The conviction was strong in the general's voice, but Sara caught the words "we are planning…" So the knights do not know for sure, she thought, vaguely relieved.

Mirielle went on without a pause. "We have been here only three years, and already we have instituted a new training program, doubled the number of knights in this command, and gained control of the city. By the time our queen returns to us, we will once again be the most powerful force on Krynn." Her voice rang with pride, and her arms swept wide in a gesture that took in the whole world.

Sara was shaken by the woman's immense confidence. "What about the dragon, Malys? She is a force to contend with. She already holds the Goodlund Peninsula."

"True. But there are ways to deal even with the likes of her."

Sara's throat turned dry, and she had to force her words past a lump in her throat. "You have a grand ambition, General."

Mirielle corrected her. "That's 'Governor-General' now. The city elders saw fit to bestow the title on me."

They had reached the group of officers, and Sara felt six pairs of eyes regarding her intently. It was more scrutiny than she cared for when her guard was down and her mind was still shaken by Mirielle's revelation. She was terrified they would see through her fear to the reality of her deception. She saluted them in the manner of a proper junior officer and asked to be excused.

"Of course, Knight Warrior," the governor-general agreed. "I look forward to watching your duel in two days. Fight well."

Sara bowed and left as quickly as she could without actually running. At the gate of the compound, she broke into a jog and by the time she reached the main gate, she was running. She flashed a wave to the officer of the watch and flew down the road to the bare open fields that stretched to the feet of the distant mountains.

Outside the city, away from the reek and crowds of the streets, away from the dark gaze of so many eyes, Sara slowed down at last and fell to her knees, panting. The frozen ground chilled her to the bone, and the icy wind cut through her cloak and padded tunic like a knife, but she knelt there in the dead grass and sucked in the clean, cold air in great cleansing breaths. She felt like crying, except no tears would come. She had never felt so empty-empty and frightened and confused.

She had her answers now. She could go back to Solamnia, find the knights, warn them of the dark knighthood's resurgence, and go back to her village and her home. She would not have to face horaxes or drunken knights or megalomaniacal generals ever again.

Of course, she would have to leave Cobalt behind. She could never realistically hide him for long around Connersby. She would have to leave the squires in the Sixth Talon, too. But they were adults; they could make up their own minds. They would probably be horrified to know she wanted something else for them.

So why couldn't she leave? All she had to do was get to her feet and start walking. If the dragons caught her or a patrol stopped her, she could always claim dementia from her concussion. The going would be difficult without Cobalt, but she could make it. She simply had to move-if she wanted to.

Instead, she remained on the ground, her ankle throbbing, her head aching, and her body getting colder by the minute.

Sara sighed and said wistfully to herself, "This would be a good time for a god or a goddess to send a sign, a vision, perhaps, or a spiritual enlightenment, something to help me decide what I should do!" It was a shame they had gone and left the poor mortals to slog through the mires of indecision alone.

It was all so confusing. She couldn't see into the future to guide her path. There was no one she could talk to, no way she could tell if staying in Neraka would do any good. All she had was a deep well of tenacity, a stubborn pride, and the very quiet voice of her heart.

Be still, whispered the tiny voice in her mind. Listen.

She knelt in the vast solitude while the wind soared around her and the great arch of the sky slowly darkened toward an early twilight.

At last she put her hands on the ground and pushed herself to her feet. Her knees refused to unbend at first, and she had to work the joints loose from their stiffened position. Blood flowed back into her feet, making them tingle. Slowly she stood upright, turned around, and walked back to Neraka.

Her heart had known what to do all along.