Chapter 17
Honor and Oath
Castle Newstone, Gladius
"A knight's honor is like his armor, a trusty defense in the trials and travails of life, but at times, it can seem more like a fetter."
-Excerpt from the assorted writings of Mark the Guardian
Sir Emerich stood outside the door to the council chamber waiting for the guard to return. He could not deny being nervous. A single knight banneret personally summoned by the Lord Regent. How could he not be nervous? Other than his liege lord, had he ever really spoken with anyone ranked higher than the captain of his squadron? Certainly the Lord Regent was there presiding over his promotion ceremony, but that was hardly the same as a personal meeting. He had to mind his words lest he bring dishonor on his house and his liege lord.
The door opened and the guard said, "His Lordship will see you know, Sir Emerich. Enter."
The rank-and-file Palace Guard was inferior to a knight, much less a knight banneret, yet they were accorded equal honor and so they had a bad habit of not deferring to sworn knights save for the ones in their own leadership. Sir Emerich had learned to bear it, but it nevertheless grated on his nerves.
Inside the council chamber, there was the Lord Regent, Captain Donatus and a knight in the livery of House Licinius.
Sir Emerich saluted, saying, "Hail Gladius. Hail, milord."
"Hail," the Lord Regent replied without returning the salute. "Sir Emerich, is it? Lord Ethelward's man."
"Yes, milord," Sir Emerich said.
"You do not strike me as a man given to gossip, Sir Emerich," the Lord Regent said, "so I doubt you have heard the news. We have received a petition from the Archduke of Titan. He has requested aid to put down a rebellion in his lands. His Majesty has graciously agreed to to send an expedition of one thousand men comprised of levies from the Seven Cities. You have been selected to lead the levy of the King's men and will be the expedition's third-in-command."
"It... it is an honor, milord," Sir Emerich replied awkwardly, struggling for the words as he would have never imagined being chosen for a task like this. "If I am to be third-in-command, milord, who is first?"
"Lord Mark of House Aran shall lead the expedition," the Lord Regent said, "and Lady Sonia of House Leon will be his second."
It would have been wise to simply accept his orders and fulfill his mission, but Sir Emerich found the words spilling out of his mouth unbidden.
"His Majesty is sending two of the Twelve Stewards on this expedition?"
Sir Emerich could not believe even one of the Twelve Stewards would be sent on a mission like this. The Twelve Stewards were known as the very pillars that upheld the kingdom. To risk losing even one of those pillars, to say nothing of losing two of them...
"Who better to lead this expedition than two heroes of the Restoration?" the Lord Regent said.
The heroes of the rebellion in this kingdom were being sent to put down a rebellion in another kingdom? That did not quite follow, except perhaps as some irony of fate.
The Lord Regent seemed to read Sir Emerich's doubts, as he then said, "Sir Emerich, you pledged your sword and your service to your liege lord, to His Majesty the King, and to the realm. I trust that, like any good and proper knight, you are prepared to give your life for that pledge, yes?"
"Of course, milord," Sir Emerich replied. "God blight me if I wouldn't."
A hint of a smile crossed the Lord Regent's lips.
"Good," he said. "I would expect you to say as much. You see, Sir Emerich, not everyone is so true to their oaths. There are those who are no friends of His Majesty. Tell me, what is to be done with such people?"
"The penalty for treason is death, milord," Sir Emerich said. "The law demands it. Honor demands it."
"Well said, Sir Emerich," the Lord Regent replied. "Truly the men of the House Cavalry are the very model of chivalry. The kingdom needs men such as you."
"Your words honor me more than I deserve, milord."
"We shall see about that," the Lord Regent said, rising from his seat. "If you serve His Majesty well on this expedition, you will warrant greater honor than mere words." He gestured to the knight in House Licinius livery. "Sir Martinus here will be leading the levy from Corinth. You can rely on him."
Sir Emerich nodded to Sir Martinus, who returned the gesture with little trace of warmth. He had a look about him as a rich man looking down on a stray dog. Too many of these proud men of old Roman stock still thought of themselves as superior to the so-called barbarian tribes, even after all these centuries. Much as with the Palace Guards, it was an offense to bear in silence. It could not be denied that a vassal of the Licinians had a measure of influence beyond that of most men.
"Your two hundred men and Sir Martinus' one hundred," the Lord Regent continued. "Should the worst come, you will be able to stand strong together."
"What manner of 'worst' do you imagine, milord?" Sir Emerich asked.
"As I said, Sir Emerich, not all are friends to His Majesty. If those who once brought foreigners to this land to unseat the King should attempt to do so again, I expect you to do what honor and your oath demand."
It took Sir Emerich a moment to understand the meaning of his words. When he did, however, it was truly time for him to hold his tongue. At first it seemed madness to consider the close companions of the late King to be no friends to his son, but the young King did not truly rule the kingdom. The former Lord Regent was as close in the late King's confidence as any man could be and if the rumors about his death were true... For that matter, King Edward himself...
Sir Emerich could feel his muscles tighten. He had never paid much heed to courtly affairs, instead focusing narrowly on the task before him, whatever it may have been. The everyday service of a knight, his training, the leadership of his men... However, for the first time he saw himself as a piece on the board, a pawn in a game where the players shaped the fate of the kingdom. It was not a pleasant realization to say the least.
* * *
A black cloud poured out of the tent and as the tent was consumed by the cloud, there was a burst of flame and what looked like a flash of lightning. Then there was the sounding of a horn. Three blasts. The signal for all forces to charge at once.
The Archduke's horsemen did not hesitate to charge into the cloud and the mob opposite to them did the same. Next was the Ardovan Boscano and his sellswords in the van who went forward to go to their aid.
Sir Emerich looked to his left and his right. The other two companies of sellswords were not as quick to move. It was almost as if they were waiting for the Gladians to make their move first.
Sir Kerwin, a fellow knight of the House Cavalry and Sir Emerich's second among the King's men, said to him, "That was three blasts. Signal the charge, Sir Emerich?"
Sir Emerich gripped the reins. Certainly the Lord Regent did everything but state outright that Lord Mark and Lady Sonia were obstacles that were best removed. This was the perfect opportunity for it to happen. That would please His Lordship, would it not? He did not even have to do anything, just stand back and let the rebels do the work for him.
If he did that, though, surely Lord Mark's Templars and household troops would not sit still, nor would the Rowanites loyal to Lady Sonia. The Stormtree levy would join them, no doubt, and probably Watercress as well. Sir Emerich had his own men and the Corinthian levy as the Lord Regent promised, possibly the Sandstone levy as well for whatever it was worth. But if they fell to fighting amongst themselves, they would be easy prey for the followers of the usurper among the sellswords, who would not waste such a chance.
Then again, his sacrifice would be a small price to pay in service to the kingdom. The Lord Regent would not forget him, would he? Sir Emerich's family would reap the reward of his loyalty, would they not? It would not be so difficult to lay down his life if he truly believed that, but when he thought of the Lord Regent, he knew that he would be a fool to expect anything good from such a man.
"Sir Emerich, the charge?" Sir Kerwin asked again.
"What honor and my oath demand..." Sir Emerich muttered to himself.
He raised his lance to signal the charge. The horns sounded. And so it began.