Time of the Stonechosen

2 The Knight Captain

2

The Knight Captain“I thought I would find you here.”

Finngyr did not look up from his prayers at the words of the visitor. He wasn't surprised when he heard the sound of metal on stone and the grunt of accepted pain as the visitor knelt down beside him. Finngyr also made that sound when kneeling to pray. The heavy thud of a hammer was followed by the clink of its handle. He waited; when the visitor didn't speak further, Finngyr returned to his prayers.

A short time later Finngyr opened his eyes. He had chosen one of the smaller chapels which lined the outer walls of the Temple of Truth. They were more conducive to private prayer. A single shaft of light, let in from a high-placed window, lit the simple altar and the room's only other two occupants.

Finngyr looked at his uninvited guest, who knelt next to him, eyes still closed. Finngyr bowed at the waist, without rising.

“His word is law, Knight Captain Danuk,” Finngyr said.

The older knight justice did not respond, but continued with his prayers. Finngyr waited, watching the knight captain's lips moving beneath his tightly braided beard. There was almost as much gray as red in the beard and receding hair. Dust motes floated around him and settled onto the polished steel of his shoulder plates.

The Knight Captain's hammer rested before him, identical to Finngyr's except for the wear and unique scratches, marks it earned through centuries of use. He wondered at how many other Knights in service to Daomur wielded these two relics, resting before them. How many more would, after they were bones and dust?

Finngyr looked up and found Knight Captain Danuk studying him with a calm expression.

“It is good to be back, is it not, Finngyr?”

“Yes, Knight Captain, it is.”

The two of them knelt there in silence, both staring at the carved altar. The hammer and scales, the symbol of their god, coaxed from the stone long ago.

“Come. We will go to my quarters and I will have some food brought up from the kitchens. You can give me your reports,” the Knight Captain said.

“Sir, there is something I must tell you. I—”

“There is much you must tell me, Knight Justice. We received a message from the Cradle shortly after you left. But by Daomur's beard, I will hear it over full plates and fuller tankards.” Knight Captain Danuk grasped his hammer and worked his way up slowly, accompanied by more than a few grunts.

He took four respectful steps backwards before turning and leaving the chapel. Finngyr rose, repeated the four backward steps and followed.

“Then, I have some news for you, Finngyr. There are interesting happenings on the Nordlah Plains.”

“Stonechosen, you say? You are sure?” Knight Captain Danuk said. He leaned into his high-backed oak chair and shook his head.

The Knight Captain had changed into a simple white tunic, thick with embroidery around the neck and sleeves, and a wide, woven leather belt. His armor lay on its stand near the hearth. The two pages – adolescent dwarves who saw to the armor's polishing and starting the small hearth fire, sprinkling it with incense – now stood to either side of the table, waiting to fill a tankard or collect an empty plate.

“I am sure,” Finngyr said.

He too, had changed into a tunic like the Knight Captain's. They were favored in the mountain city. Even here, at the summit, the ocean breeze carried a touch of warmth.

The Knight Captain's quarters, like most officers' quarters in the temple, had an open, easterly facing balcony to take advantage of the trade winds.

“It was a tall and gangly whelp. Seemed as surprised as I was. The hammer put off a bright light and almost vibrated out of my hand.” Finngyr shook a leg of ham to demonstrate. A rogue piece of meat escaped to the floor, only to be scooped up by one of the attentive pages. Finngyr never noticed.

“And you smote him, you say?” Danuk asked.

“I do say! The force of the blow threw me back. The flash was blinding. Felt like I struck stone.” Finngyr brought the leg of meat down with both hands in front of him. “I rolled with the force of the blow and came up with my side axe in hand. I was still blinded when I called for support from the poor excuses for what that backwater settlement calls guards.”

Danuk nodded at this statement, as if it was well known.

“But, then all the bonfires from the human's festivities exploded with flames that soared into the sky and then back into themselves, throwing fire and ash everywhere,” Finngyr finished.

“That has the sounds of ancient human magic, like in the stories of the Great Purge, that does,” Danuk said. He held out his tankard over the arm of his chair to be refilled.

“Exactly! The local magister kept a pet sorcerer, so I naturally had him arrested and took control of the settlement's guard.”

“Naturally,” Danuk said.

“But, I could not find the boy. I even razed its village, in hopes of drawing it out.” Finngyr leaned back in his chair, moving to take a drink from his tankard and then stopping. He stared off into the late afternoon sky and the gathered shadows on this side of Daomount. Off in the distance, he could see the sun almost resting on the waters. The shadows of the mountain city reached out for the retreating light like a drowning dwarf.

“Ahem,” Danuk said.

Finngyr continued. “It was then the Magister quoted the Book of Hjurl to me. A passage concerning the trial of the vessels. “Now marked, his chosen must gather, where once his progeny thrived—”

“His hunger compels them to journey,” Danuk intoned.

“In his cities they survive,” the two finished in unison.

Finngyr set his tankard down and leaned forward over the table. “I need to consult the Prophecies, Knight Captain. I need to see if there is any clue as to which of the f*******n cities Ghile Stonechosen might go to. I let him escape once. I seek redemption. I must find him and bring him here.”

The Knight Captain held up a finger to stop Finngyr, his face lost in thought.

Finngyr felt his temper bubbling below the surface. He swallowed it back down like bile. It would serve no purpose to show the Knight Captain how much his emotions held sway over him. Daomur taught control over one's emotions, to ponder his laws with a clear mind.

“Finngyr, you might have just helped answer something which has been puzzling us. You recall I mentioned news concerning the Nordlah Plains?” The Knight Captain was also leaning forward now. “If you encountered a stonechosen in the Cradle, that means there are others.” He paused for a moment, letting those words sink in. “To think the Time of the Stonechosen has come during our lifetimes. It makes sense. The plains barbarians do not follow their normal migrations. Where we expect to find the various tribes, there are none. Where they would normally gather in force to fight against their culling, the pathetic few we do find throw themselves into combat. The few who survive, tell us nothing of the location of the others.”

Finngyr could not push down the feelings of jealousy at the thought of his brother knights diving into battle. He should be there, performing the Rite of Attrition on their chosen, culling those who stood in his way. This was the first time in all his years of service to the Temple he'd been sent anywhere but the plains. “Sir, if I may ask. Why did you send me to the Cradle?” Finngyr said.

The Knight Captain shook his head. “I was not the one to make that decision, Finngyr.”

Finngyr stared across the table. That didn't make sense. As his superior, the decision of who to send should have been Knight Captain Danuk's. He would have been ordered to dispatch a knight justice, but which particular one was left to him. “You are my captain,” Finngyr said.

“True. But the order to send you to the Cradle of the Gods came from the Lord Knight Justice Gyldoon himself.” Danuk raised an eyebrow and watched Finngyr.

Finngyr stared at his superior officer. The Lord Knight Justice was the head of their order and sat on the Judges' Council of Daomount. He was the oldest member of the order and one of the only dwarves still alive who recalled the last Time of the Stonechosen.

“It appears our Lord Gyldoon has the gift of prophecy, Knight Justice,” Danuk said.

Finngyr couldn't explain why the Lord Knight Justice himself would give such an order. Different thoughts were spinning through his mind, each fighting to move forward and to be given attention before being pushed aside by others. The gift of prophecy was not among them. “No. It doesn't make sense. If he knew or even suspected that the Time of the Stonechosen has come, then why would he not tell us? Tell the Judges Council?” Finngyr said.

“I do not know. Nor is it my place, or yours, to question that decision,” Danuk said.

Finngyr thought to respond and caught himself. “Of course, Knight Captain.”

The Knight Captain appeared mollified by the response. “But if it is the Time of the Stonechosen, then maybe others have arisen among the barbarians and they travel to the cities as well? We hunt in the wrong places.”

The two sat there, the gentle wind and the crackling of the small fire the only sound. Occasionally one of the pages would scuff a sandal on the floor.

“I will seek an audience with the Lord Knight Justice,” Danuk finally said.

“Might I accompany you, sir?”

Danuk shook his head, even before Finngyr finished his request.

“That would not bode well for you, I should think. That brings me to the other news I meant to share with you this day. The Magister from the Cradle sent word via a runesmith a few days ago. Most likely right after your departure. It seems they have a rebellion on their hands there. They are placing the responsibility for that rebellion firmly on your shoulders, Knight Justice.”

Damn you, Obudar!

“They are requesting troops be dispatched to their aid and had the forethought to mention the annual tithes have not left their Bastion.”

Twice damn you, Obudar!

“The Judges Council has been hearing your name on the lips of more than a few high merchants, who will feel a personal loss in their purses from this rebellion in the Cradle.”

Finngyr closed his eyes and leaned back. He could see his chance of catching Ghile the Stonechosen slipping through his fingers like so much sand.