The War of Six Crowns: The Vanished Knight

Brothers in Arms, Reunited

Gawain held a flaming torch aloft as he and King Conal rode into Pendran Castle. The King wasn't happy about leaving the royal guards behind, but Darrion had insisted in his letter. There had to be a good reason. Darrion did nothing without cause.

The castle's courtyard was brightly lit with torches burning in every bracket. About a hundred of Darrion's finest soldiers milled about or congregated around cooking fires scattered throughout the yard. All wore Nordaine's black battle uniforms.

"Why is the boy so concerned?" King Conal's keen gray scrutiny shifted about them as they rode. "Secret meetings at night. Leaving his post in the middle of his tour..."

"We'll find out soon enough, Your Majesty." Gawain searched his surroundings until he caught sight of Darrion's neatly clubbed black hair. He stood to one side with old Conroy Phipps, the castle's keeper. "There he is, sire."

Gawain and King Conal rode over to them and dismounted.

Darrion placed his hand on his left shoulder and bowed to greet the King. "I've arranged for a bed in a safe corner of the castle. It's currently guarded by fifty of my best soldiers."

"Thank you," the King said, switching to Nordian. "But what in the Tree's name is this about?"

Darrion straightened. "I don't know yet, sire," he replied, keeping to Nordian to exclude Phipps from the conversation, "but I want to make sure you're safe before I figure out what's going on."

"Safe from what?"

Darrion hesitated. "The Waernich."

King Conal's face slackened and for once he looked every year of his old age. "You don't trust my guards?"

"No. Not after five Westenmeres tried to kill me in Lyrion. And definitely not after Miria sent me a note that the Knight is gone."

"Gone?" The King's voice cracked. Gawain grasped his elbow to support him.

Darrion looked at Phipps and switched to English. "We'll be camping in the courtyard tonight. My men are fatigued. Would you please show us to his room?"

Phipps's keen gaze shifted between the three of them. Gawain sensed curiosity, then disbelief, and finally resignation shifting over the old man's soul. Nothing gave Gawain any reason to distrust him.

"Of course," the wizened old man rasped. "Follow me, please." He hobbled ahead, leading them into the keep, away from the tourist area.

Gawain continued to support King Conal, guiding him after Phipps. The King practically radiated terror.

"I should have made him marry again," he whispered in Nordian. "None of this would have happened if he had a blood heir to settle the succession question."

"The Tree told him not to," Darrion replied, "and Nordaine didn't grow as strong as we are by disobeying her."

King Conal scowled at him. "Nor did we grow strong by arranging assassinations of potential heirs."

Slowly, with every step they took, the King's posture straightened. His shoulders squared. His jaw set. Gawain sighed, relieved see the King becoming his usual strong self once more. By the time they arrived at the room, King Conal walked without help. He went in alone. Darrion went to one of his soldiers to give him some orders.

Gawain stayed with Phipps. "Thank you for doing this," he said.

Phipps waved it away. "I've known him for some time, and he's done me some favors in the past. Least I can do is return them." His voice was as hoarse as always.

Gawain nodded. "We'll be sure to act like one of your museum troops until we leave tomorrow."

"Thank you. Is something the matter?"

How to answer that? Phipps appeared old and broken, but he held a sharpness hidden from view.

Gawain shrugged. "Nothing that you need to worry about. He'll only be staying for a few days. At most a week. After that, we'll be out of your hair again."

Phipps barked a little laugh and hobbled away. "Until you lot return."

Gawain chuckled and shook his head. How could someone be civil and rude at the same time? It had to come with age.

Darrion finished with his orders and joined Gawain in watching Phipps's retreat. "Odd creature," Darrion commented.

"Yes. But I think he's tougher and smarter than any of us imagine."

"You'd know," he said, and went into the King's room.

True. One of Gawain's great advantages in life was the fact that he could "read" people's souls. Even though it wasn't an exact talent, he usually saw enough to know what he needed to.

Except for Darrion. The ass had found a way to deflect Gawain's attempts to read him. Most of the time. Right now, he felt Darrion's worry as much as his own.

Gawain followed his friend and closed the door.

"Feren veiri talach?" King Conal asked, prompting them all to speak Nordian once more. What are we going to do?

An excellent question. What were they going to do? If the Knight really was gone, Nordaine could soon be awash with blood.

"Now you rest, Your Majesty," Gawain said, "while Darrion and I go home and get to the bottom of this."

Hopefully there would be a harmless explanation.

Darrion nodded in agreement. "Please don't leave this portion of the castle. And don't go to Nordaine until we're sure it's safe."

The King swiped his hand down his face. "Find my son." His voice quavered with distress, but when he lowered his hand, his face was set as stone. "Find who's responsible."

"We will." Darrion placed his hand to his shoulder for the Nordian bow.

"If you two bring him back alive, I'll choose one of you as his heir."

"Yes sire," Gawain and Darrion said in unison and bowed.

"You may go."

They left without another word.

"You know that means it'll be you," Gawain said once they were out of the soldiers' hearing range.

"Could be either of us," Darrion said.

"I don't want it."

Darrion halted, frowning. "Why wouldn't you want to be Nordaine's future king?"

Gawain shrugged. "Because I think you'll be the better ruler. Because you deserve it more than me. Besides, I know both the King and the Knight agree with me."

His words seemed to have stunned Darrion to complete silence. They would. Darrion always assumed he had competition for the appointment. That's why he worked himself to the bone to get ahead. Even when it should have been obvious that he deserved the crown most.

"Come on," Gawain urged. "Surely you must have known. The Westenmeres did. That's why they went after you first."

"But..." Darrion gave his head a little shake. "The King always treated us equally."

Gawain smiled and gave his shoulder a little nudge. "Yes, but you're the one who kept excelling." 

Well well! So there's obviously more going on with Gawain than met Callan's eye. Have you figured out the "ghost" mystery yet? The answer is in this chapter. What do you think will happen next? Let me know in the comments, and please don't forget to vote if you liked this section!