The Rose and the Skull

24

A knock on the door startled Liam from his reverie. He'd been nodding off, dreaming of things that could have been, while atop his desk, Gunthar's desk, the old man's manuscript lay just as he had left it in disgust some three weeks earlier. He'd spent nearly every day since the reading of the will in Gunthar's study, supposedly editing the Revised Measure into some kind of workable order. Instead he'd spent most of that time looking out the window, examining the paintings on the wall, picking at his fingernails, or simply dozing. He couldn't bring himself to sit down at the desk and try to organize Gunthar's life's work, his parting gift to the Knighthood, the work for which he'd be remembered throughout the ages. For Gunthar's Measure frightened Liam as no mortal enemy ever had. He'd faced dragons in battle, thousands of feet above the ground, but this task he'd set himself, to edit the Measure, paralyzed him with its enormity.

The first third was not only legible, it was perfect, the work of a brilliant mind. Gunthar had begun this section of the Revised Measure not long after the War of the Lance. Strict and mindless adherence to the Measure had very nearly destroyed the Knights during the War of the Lance, so Lord Gunthar made it his life's goal to revise it into a fluid document of broad all-encompassing guidelines, from which a Knight could draw inspiration for any particular situation. He'd worked on it carefully and diligently during the years between the War of the Lance and the Chaos War.

However, the death of his last surviving son during the Chaos War wrought a change in Gunthar's mind. Where his previous work had been clear and concise, the newer writings were little more than outlines and incomplete ideas. It needed expansion and elaboration, although it was not wholly corrupted. After the death of his wife, Gunthar's work on the Measure deteriorated. He began to ramble, mixing his thoughts on his work with thoughts of the past and musings upon everyday life. He filled pages and pages just doodling, with maybe an idea about ceremony hastily scrawled at the bottom of the paper. There were unfinished letters to his wife written on the same pages as directions for various types of battle, and he repeated himself endlessly. After just a cursory glance through these disappointing pages, Liam found eleven variations of instructions for sentry placement in mountainous terrain. At that point, he threw the Revised Measure down in disgust and hadn't looked at it since.

Tomorrow, Liam had told himself. I'll begin tomorrow. What's one more day? I need to get my thoughts together before I begin.

Preoccupied with the Measure, Liam had reluctantly handed over temporary leadership of the Knights to Tohr Malen, and he was forced to admit that the Dark Knight handled things admirably. His quick command and powerful personality had already won over many of the Knights of Solamnia. With his charisma and magnetism, it seemed all too easy for them to forget that once Tohr had dedicated his life to the cause of evil. While Liam sank into depression, Tohr Malen was forging the Knights of Sancrist Isle into a powerful well-organized body of warriors. He was breathing new life and energy into men and women who'd become jaded with inactivity. Liam felt his authority, his control, slipping away.

That's why he'd called the Grand Chapter, to force a vote before Tohr Malen won everyone over to his side.

The knock on the door awakened Liam to the reality that he must now go down and face the assemblage. He rose slowly to his feet, while the page pounded impatiently on the door. Liam settled his sword in its baldric and ran a nervous hand through his graying locks, then strode to the door and opened it.

The page bowed. "Forgive me, my lord. The Chapter is ready," he said.

Liam took a deep breath, then nodded. The page led the way down the hall. Liam fell in behind and walked with his head proud, his eyes level, as though walking out to what might likely be his last battle.

They arrived before a low arched doorway just as the midday bell was being rung, sounding a changing of the watch. "How appropriate," Liam muttered. The page opened the door and stepped back. Liam ducked and passed through.

It brought him to a small antechamber, where several other Knights of renown were waiting. There was Lord High Clerist Meredith Turningdale smiling at him sympathetically, and Lord High Warrior Quintayne Fogorner purposefully avoiding his eyes. So Quintayne has already gone over, Liam thought.

The strange and aloof Thorn Knight Trevalyn Kesper brooded in the corner, while Tohr Malen anxiously paced the tiny confines of the chamber. As Liam entered, Tohr smiled and approached him, his hand extended.

"I just want to say, Sir Liam, that no matter how the vote goes, I do not consider you my adversary. In fact, I hope that we can one day be friends," Tohr said as he earnestly shook Liam's hand.

"As do I," Liam responded politely, "and I shall put aside my personal feelings and abide by the lawful decision of this Chapter."

A tall door in the opposite wall from the entrance opened with a creak. Sir Ellinghad Beauseant stuck his head inside the antechamber and whispered, "My lords and ladies, we are ready."

Liam nodded, indicating his readiness. Sir Ellinghad then looked at Lord Tohr for confirmation. And Ellinghad as well, Liam noted with some sadness. How many others? he wondered. Tohr nodded.

Ellinghad stepped back. "Gentlemen, ladies, Honorable Knights of Sancrist Isle," he said in a loud and forceful voice. "All rise for the Lord High Justice Liam Ehrling, Lord Tohr Malen, Lord Trevalyn Kesper," he announced as each presiding Lord Knight entered the chapel.

It was the same place where they'd held Gunthar's funeral, but before the altar they'd set up a table and six chairs. In the center of the table stood a clay pot filled with small circular tiles. Most were white, though a single black tile peeked through the top. The five leaders of the Knights took their seats behind the table, facing the congregation, which was made up of every available Knight in the area. The sixth seat at the table remained empty, and it was only then that Liam noticed the representative of the Knights of the Lily was not present. He looked around, but no one proposed to fill the vacant chair.

The Lord Knights entered last, like jurors in a trial. Once everyone was seated, Liam rose and asked, "Where is Lady Alya Starblade for the Knights of the Lily?"

"We have a report that she will arrive within the hour," Tohr said. "In the meanwhile, I believe we can proceed with the introductions."

"Yes, well…" Liam mumbled. He cleared his throat. "Honorable Knights of Sancrist Isle, I declare this Grand Chapter open," he said in a disinterested monotone while he arranged some papers on the table before him.

"As you know, this is the first Grand Chapter of the Sancrist Knights, so I will attempt to explain the changes in rules, some of which you may already be familiar with." Liam droned on for some time, while the gathered Knights shifted restlessly in their seats.

At last, Liam said, "So if there is no news or announcements, we can begin with the real reason for this Chapter. We are gathered here today to elect the first Grand Master of the Knights of Sancrist Isle. Now, since we cannot yet proceed according to the Measure as laid down by Lord Gunthar, I and my fellow Knights have agreed to a procedure that we believe is fair to all concerned. Are there any objections?"

He waited, but when no one offered any arguments, he continued. "First, nominations for the office shall be accepted."

Lady Meredith rose. "I nominate Sir Liam Ehrling," she said with a defiant tone.

"Thank you, Lady Meredith," Liam said. "Is there a second?" He turned to Quintayne, but the leader of the Knights of the Crown only stared straight ahead, his face a blank page.

Someone from the audience shouted, "I second!"

"The nomination is seconded," Liam said, a little shaken by the desertion of onetime stalwarts. "Any other nominations?"

"I nominate in absence Lady Mirielle Abrena," Lord Tohr said.

"And I second it," Trevalyn barked before Liam was able to respond.

"Lady Mirielle Abrena nominated and seconded," Liam said with a frown. "Are there any other nominations?"

The chapel remained as silent.

"I declare the nominations closed, " Liam said. "Now the vote shall be held in the following manner. Each member of the presiding council of six Knights shall cast one vote. Lots shall then be drawn by those Knights in attendance, choosing six additional voters. Should a tie be the result of the first vote, a seventh lot shall then be drawn to determine the final and deciding vote.

"But since the Lady Alya Starblade is not yet arrived, I think perhaps a recess in is order," Liam finished.

"We may as well go ahead and draw the six lots," Tohr offered.

"That's a good idea," Liam reluctantly agreed. He gestured to the front row of Knights. "Everyone come up here and file by the table. When you reach the center, turn your head to the side and draw a single tile from the pot. We rely upon your honor not to look at the tiles as you draw them. Only those who have drawn black tiles shall cast a vote."

The first row of Knights rose from their seats and solemnly filed into the center aisle. One by one, they passed before the table, each stopping and drawing his or her tile from the pot. Some hid the color of the tile they'd drawn, some displayed theirs either with relief or dismay. At last, all the tiles were drawn from the pot, and the last Knight returned to his seat. Still Alya had not come.

Tohr rose from his seat and cleared his throat. "I received information this morning that a Knight was riding hard from Castle Isherwood, and that she is expected here at any moment. Until that time, I believe we ought to go ahead. If the decision comes down to her vote, then we can always await her arrival."

Liam considered for a moment. "I agree that it is better to proceed," he said. "There is but one more matter. As a nominee, I am not allowed to vote, but I have the right to choose someone else to cast a proxy."

Liam looked round the room. He was about to play his best card. He hoped the trust he was about to place in someone would sway that person's vote, and by the display of trust so sway the votes of others. "I choose Sir Ellinghad Beauseant," he declared.

"Liam!" Meredith whispered. "Ellinghad has privately expressed to me his admiration for Lady Mirielle."

"Sir Ellinghad is a man of great personal honor. I trust him to make the right choice," Liam answered in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

Ellinghad bowed solemnly in appreciation.

"Knights with black tiles, arise!" Ellinghad commanded.

Six Knights, randomly scattered throughout the chapel, rose to their feet. Liam noted with a glimmer of hope that only one was a Knight of Takhisis.

"Sir Trevalyn Kesper, how do you vote?" Liam asked.

"I vote for Lady Mirielle, of course," the Gray Robe laughed.

"Lady Mirielle," Tohr said.

Meredith stood to cast her vote. "Sir Liam Ehrling!"

Quintayne remained seated and refused to look at his fellow Knights. "Lady Mirielle," he said.

Now the six Knights who had drawn lots cast their votes.

"Sir Liam Ehrling," said the first, a Knight of the Rose.

Following the Lord of his Order, a Knight of the Crown voted, "Lady Mirielle."

"Lady Mirielle."

Again "Lady Mirielle." Liam's face fell as he watched his Knights vote against him.

"Sir Liam Ehrling."

To everyone's surprise, the sole Knight of Takhisis had cast his vote in favor of Sir Liam. A murmur went around the room. Liam counted the votes and sighed. He looked up mournfully at Sir Ellinghad.

Ellinghad had also counted the votes, and as he turned to face the table, beads of sweat broke out on his proud forehead. "I vote for Lady Mirielle," he said. "I am sorry, my lord."

Liam nodded and smiled weakly.

"Well, it seems we don't need the vote of Lady Alya after all," Lord Tohr said.

"It seems so," Liam agreed with a sigh.

He waved to a page, indicating that the white and black tiles should be collected and returned to the clay pot. The room remained quiet, although the outcome of the vote had never really been in doubt. During the weeks since the funeral, both veterans and Knights newly in spurs had been won over by Tohr's command. His tales of the deeds of Knights serving under Lady Mirielle had stirred their Solamnic hearts, one and all. They saw not dark days ahead under the leadership of a onetime servant of evil, but a glorious future under the command of a brilliant military mind. No longer would they bide their time. Once the forces had been consolidated, Tohr had promised, there'd be war, war against the alien dragons from across the sea, war against Pyrothraxus and his kind. Few resisted such visions.

Still, most realized that, with this vote, the Knights of Solamnia were truly finished. The end had come too quickly, too easily. There should have been more pomp and ceremony. Instead, the meeting came to an abrupt and unceremonious end when Tohr stood up and said with a barely suppressed smile, "Well, I guess that's it, then."

"When Lady Alya arrives, have her brought to me immediately," Tohr said to Ellinghad. Glad to be given the opportunity to leave, the room, Ellinghad bowed and turned to go.

Just then the doors at the back of the hall swung open and a dusty, road-weary Knight strode into the chapel. "Lady Alya will not be coming," he announced.