betrayed the plans of the knighthood whenever possible and caused the deaths of many men by my actions, all in the name of Morgion, dread Lord of Disease and Decay.'
Dornay gasped. 'I know you! I know the tales that they whisper, even now!' His handsome face twisted. 'Rennard the Oathbreaker!'
Bowing, mocking, the ghost replied, 'I thought myself forgotten. Yes, I have the dishonor of being him.'
Erik snatched his sword from the ground, held it before him. His eyes were narrow slits, his breathing rapid. He began muttering under his breath.
Rennard recognized the litany and was amused. 'Exorcising demons? You are not so well-versed for one of your rank. I doubt I will be so easily dismissed, even if you should happen upon the proper chant.'
'Why does the ghost of a traitor and murderer visit me? Do the gods think you will stop me in my chosen course? Lucien's death demands justice! He was murdered needlessly, and I will see that his killers pay! Now begone!'
Rennard turned his horrific face toward the mortal. 'I would very much like to be gone, Erik Dornay, but not to where I have been since my death. Peace is what I ask… peace and a sip of water.' He stared into the flame, recalling the past. 'I want nothing to do with you, but something has drawn me here. This is not the first time I have heard the song you sang tonight, a song about him. Huma never would have believed it. He would have shaken his head — '
'Do not speak his name!' Erik pointed the useless sword at the ghost as if he still intended somehow to run Rennard through. 'He was everything that you were not, traitor! He was everything that I wanted to be!'
Wanted to be? thought the ghost. 'And so you no longer desire to be like him?'
The young knight stiffened, then lowered his sword. 'I cannot, not now, not after I kill them.' His gaze strayed to the woods beyond. 'So much has changed since the Cataclysm. At first they begged for our help. Then, with a swiftness unmatched even by the wind, the rumors began! Some of the rumors were not without foundation, but to blame the knighthood as a whole is unthinkable! If we were spared the brunt of the disaster, surely it meant that we were Paladine's chosen! We should have been their guides on the path of recovery. Instead, the scum we tried to protect turned on us. 'Look!' they cried. 'Ansalon shakes and quivers, people die, and the knights are untouched!' '
The young Solamnian laughed harshly. 'Some even claimed we had conspired with the gods, for it was Ergoth, our ancient tyrant, and Istar, our magnificent rival, who suffered most. Lucien tried to reason with them — the ignorant offal. And they dragged him down from his horse and murdered him!'
None of this made much sense to Rennard. 'And was the knighthood responsible for this… this Cataclysm?'
Erik glowered. 'How can you ask that? You were a knight!'
'Yes,' said Rennard dryly, 'I was a knight.'
'I swear that we were not!' Dornay's voice shook. 'It could never be!'
'I see'
After a pause, Erik asked, 'Did you really know him?'
'Very well.' Rennard stood silently, his mind a whirlpool of memories. He stared at the mortal before him and saw Huma. The similarities were more than skin deep.
Am I supposed to turn him along the proper path? Rennard asked whoever had sent him. I was a puppet in life. Am I to be one in death? Better he make his own destiny, whatever the consequences! At least the choice will be his!
Rennard saw, to his surprise, that the young Knight of the Rose was staring at him, not in fear and loathing, but in desperate need. 'Huma… What would he have done? Would he have understood? Lucien was my friend, more than friend… he was dearer than any brother. Please, specter, tell me, what would Huma — ?'
'Huma would have done what Huma would have done,' Rennard interjected quickly. Thinking of Huma stirred memories and emotions that the ghost refused to acknowledge. 'Just as you will do what you will do.'
'That is no answer!' Dornay said angrily. 'Would he have understood my need for vengeance? Tell me!'
I will not do this! Rennard told those who'd sent him. Dornay's path must be his own! What course his life takes will be his choice, not that of some interfering deity!
The ghost thought he heard whispers then, but perhaps they were only his own thoughts, speaking back to him:
A fate such as mine? Erik's thirst for vengeance could hardly be as great a crime as those I committed. But, Rennard could not help wondering, once he's done murder, he might sink lower still. One day, he might find himself trapped in a futile flight from those he killed and who, because of him, would never be able to rest either.
The 'Song of Huma' ran through his mind.
'Huma,' Rennard whispered. The man who was now legend never abandoned me, he even looked up to me. Huma — the man, not the legend — had been there in the end, trying to save me from myself. Rather than face him, I took the coward's way out. I slit my own throat.
Rennard turned his eyes briefly to the murky heavens. 'I will do this for you, Huma… of the Lance. I will do it for you, not the gods. Never them.'
Pale eyes narrowing, the ghost answered the young knight's question. 'He would have understood VERY well what you were doing, Erik Dornay. You have my oath on that. Unlike you, however, Huma would have understood the meaning and the consequences as well. And, therefore, he would never have considered your dark course.' Rennard shifted so as to allow the fire to illuminate his features. 'Huma would have known that such a course can lead one only to a fate… like mine. Each life I took follows me, punishes me.' Rennard shivered, the flickering shadows caused by the fire too lifelike at that moment. 'The number still horrifies me, when they begin to gather.'
'But they killed Lucien! They don't deserve to live! I have to… to…' Backing away, Dornay stumbled over to his horse. He untied the animal and wearily mounted, ignoring the fact that his helm still lay on the ground.
'You may deny me, mortal. You may even deny Huma, whom you claim to admire. Can you, though, deny yourself?'
Erik Dornay did not respond. He turned his horse and urged the animal on with a harsh kick to the ribs.
Rennard materialized in front of him. 'Huma — the squire I trained, the knight I fought beside and against, the legend that led you to the Solamnic orders — watches us. He had a way of affecting others, Erik Dornay, even me. For that reason and that reason alone, I will not let this end. I will haunt you day and night if I have to.'
The Knight of the Rose kicked his protesting charger again, forcing the horse to ride through Rennard.
The ghost disappeared, made himself reappear in front of the startled animal. The horse tried to turn away, but Erik once more forced the terrified beast to keep to the chosen route. Snorting in frustration and anxiety, the mount again raced through the apparition and galloped down the path.
Rennard followed. He'd wait until the horse could go no farther, which couldn't be very long. What would Erik do when he realized it was impossible to escape the ghost? Rennard did not know. The young knight was wavering in his desire for revenge, but it was at such an emotional junction that the greatest danger lay. Erik might go through with his dark plan merely to prove to himself he was not a man of weak resolve, that he kept his promises to his friends. The ghost was all too aware of what people had done for lesser reasons.
Dornay's flight took them into thickening woods. A number of the trees had been uprooted, but most had more or less survived intact. The forest should have meant nothing to the ghost. Yet, for some reason that made no sense to him, he was reminded of Morgion. Rennard grew more cautious, even drawing his sword, just in case.
Ahead of him now, the Knight of the Rose suddenly reined to a halt. The flatter land gave way again to hills.
There was a campfire in the distance.
The refugees? Those he pursued? Dornay evidently thought so, for he moved with more stealth now.
Rennard debated with himself. He stared at the not-sodistant flame and decided it would be wise to take a closer look. Erik would not reach the camp for several minutes, whereas the ghost could flit in and out in less time than it took to draw a breath.
It proved easy to pick out a spot near, but not too near, the encampment. As a precaution, Rennard was careful to hide behind a gnarled oak, on the off-chance that he was visible to all, not merely Erik.
