Knight of Valor: Knights of Valor

by Elizabeth Drake

  “The vampire is looking for you, isn’t he?”

  “I figured he’d send someone to bring me back. He came himself.”

  “You’re scared.”

  “Of course I’m scared. Do you know what a master vampire can do?” She fought to keep her voice from squeaking.

  Sir Marcus squeezed her hand. “I’ve dealt with them.”

  “I guess you have. More than one.”

  “You sure you’re all right?”

  She nodded.

  Sir Marcus paused, then leaned closer to examine the scarf around her neck. “By the seven hells you are! Let me see that.”

  “It’s nothing.” She waved him away.

  “Were you bitten?”

  “Repeatedly.”

  “I meant recently.”

  “He’s looking for me, calling to me. I won’t answer, so he’s punishing me.”

  “I thought he had no power over you.” Sir Marcus sat beside her.

  “If he did, he’d have made me come back to him the night I escaped.”

  “Unless you’re unaware you’re a thrall so you can get close to the royal family.”

  Brelynn clutched the scarf at her neck. “I don’t know much about Oskelesian politics, but if the Council of Seven thought they could win a war against Tamryn, they would’ve already started one.”

  “Killing our royal family would weaken us.”

  “Or make you angry enough to accept the cost of destroying us.” Brelynn winced as pain burned through her. Her master was more than a little angry.

  “This vampire is risking a lot coming into Tamryn lands.”

  “Politics would mean nothing to Mokkar Calmont if his necromancer master learns I escaped from him. Some things are worse than death, especially when you’re undead and can survive a lot of torture.”

  “I suppose that’s the way of Oskelez,” Marcus said.

  “Everyone has a master.”

  “There’s no slavery in Tamryn. We abide by the rules of law and justice as set down by Dracor.”

  “Call it what you want, but we all answer to someone. Even you.”

  “Me?”

  “Retiring was your idea?” Brelynn doubled over as dots pricked her vision and she gasped for breath. She might not have to worry about meeting King Eli or being smote by a Knight of Valor.

  “Let me see that.” Sir Marcus pulled her hand from her throat and yanked off the scarf. Scars encircled her neck, deep puncture marks that each oozed blood.

  Brelynn refused to meet his gaze. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s amazing you survived this.”

  She focused on her hands as her blood stained the wheat colored robes. “I won’t go to him no matter how much he calls. He knows that.”

  “From experience?”

  Brelynn said nothing as Lucky nuzzled her hand and her blood soaked the robes.

  Chapter 11

  Marcus stared at the sorceress he had sworn to protect as helplessness tightened his chest. Brelynn hugged her dog and rocked beside him, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain.

  Helplessness wasn’t an emotion he was used to, and it was not one he liked. After all he’d seen, all he’d done, he should be able to help Brelynn.

  She wasn’t evil. The gods had shown him that.

  Pain contorted her face, and she dug her fingernails so deeply into her palms that she drew blood. Uncertain how else to comfort her, he wrapped an arm around her and held her against him.

  By the gods, he shouldn’t like the feel of her, shouldn’t notice the soft scent of lilacs that clung to her. He wanted to save her, but more than that, he wanted to show her a world that included cranes. Show her the brilliant blue fish at the royal palace and the crimson hummingbirds in Moon Glow Park.

  Anything to see her smile.

  Marcus’s stomach clenched. Was this how it had started with Raymond?

  Lucky whined and nudged Brelynn’s hand. She rubbed the mutt’s ears.

  No, Brelynn was nothing like Gmina.

  Another wave of pain slammed through her, and Brelynn growled several expletives as she curled around herself.

  Marcus stroked her hair and tightened his arms around Brelynn. He wanted to do more for her, to banish the pain and destroy the vampire lord’s connection to her. To give her a chance at the freedom she wanted.

  It may not be slaying a lich, but spreading Dracor’s light was about more than that.

  After his years in the eastern provinces, it was easier to reach for Dracor’s cleansing fire. To burn away the shadows and darkness with holy light.

  But there was another way.

  He knew how. Or he’d been trained how once.

  While it shouldn’t be difficult for someone as capable as he was of channeling the divine light of Dracor, Marcus directed that ability to smite evil. Yes, he’d used the Dragon God’s light to heal himself, but that was significantly easier than healing someone else.

  Healing others required compassion, and he had little of that left after his years in the lich’s lands.

  He’d only been able to walk into so many dead villages, bury so many friends, tell so many families he hadn’t been fast enough to save a loved one before he’d became numb to the softer emotions. Before he’d ignored everything but his duty to Dracor.

  Marcus stared down at Brelynn.

  He’d made a promise to protect her. He had to try.

  And he wanted her to the see the hummingbirds.

  He might look like an incompetent fool in front of an Oskelesian sorceress, but that hurt only his pride. Pride was the venue of the dark goddess Rashalee.

  Marcus touched his hand to Brelynn’s throat.

  She jerked away. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to help.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Do you think you can?”

  He ignored her skepticism and whispered a prayer to Dracor, asking for His help to smite the dark power.

  Nothing happened.

  Sucking in a breath, he tried again. Still nothing.

  His faith was strong, but healing required more. Frustration tore at him, but Sir Marcus collected his thoughts. He needed to find another way.

  “Doesn’t work on an Oskelesian sorceress, does it?” she ground out between clenched teeth. “Thanks anyway.”

  Another wave of pain shook her, and Marcus cradled her. If her master had been within an hour’s ride, he would have found the vampire and ended him. He couldn’t do that, so he offered her whatever comfort he could.

  She took it, clutching him as another spasm of pain knifed through her.

  Marcus cradled her against his chest and abandoned his prayers as he smoothed her hair.

  He wanted to do something, anything, that would help her, and he begged Dracor to show him the path forward. To show him how to help.

  The Dragon God’s mercy answered.

  A warm golden glow filled Marcus, far stronger than he thought possible, and keeping his arms wrapped around Brelynn, he channeled it to her.

  She pressed closer to him, and the golden light wrapped around both of them.

  As it faded, she touched a hand to her neck. The bleeding had stopped, and the scars had disappeared.

  “I don’t hear or feel him anymore,” Brelynn whispered.

  “And you never should again.”

  “You channeled your god… For me?”

  He didn’t understand the lump of emotion in his throat, but it made it difficult to speak. “Yes. The vampire shouldn’t be able to call to you again.”

  “You only did it because of your promise to your king, but thank you.” She touched the smooth skin of her neck, not even a telltale bump or scar remaining. “Thank you.”

  Brelynn hugged him again then slipped out of his arms and lay back down on her bed.

  He resisted the urge to pull her back to him. “Goodnight.”

  She was soon asleep, but he continued to stare at the ceiling, surprised at the light Dracor allowed him
channel.

  Surprised at all he felt.

  Knights didn’t lie, not even to themselves.

  He hadn’t healed her for the mission, but it would have been better if he had.

  Chapter 12

  Brelynn set off for Aerius with Sir Marcus at dawn, and by late morning the winding path he followed had diminished into nothing. She did not understand how Sir Marcus knew which way to go, but they were heading in the general direction of Tamryn.

  As they rode, the tang of rot that marked the wetlands subsided into the crisp earthy scent of rolling fields and forests. The sun shone clear and bright, warming the sky and burning away the fog. Trees dappled the sunlight, but Brelynn still shed her cloak.

  A light breeze pulled her hair from its braid, and she closed her eyes as she sucked in the clean air. After the endless overcast days in Oskelez filled with the smells of sewage, rot, and sweat, the Tamryn border felt like a different world.

  So far from Aerius, there were few permanent dwellings, and the ones they saw belonged to cow or sheep herders.

  This was the world beyond the walls of Oskelez and past border towns like Eskara. This was the entryway into Tamryn.

  Brelynn drew another breath of the clean air as the sun warmed her.

  She could make a home here.

  By late afternoon, she was having different thoughts as her legs and bottom screamed from the hours on horseback. It annoyed her that the travel didn’t bother Sir Marcus. Even his horse had no trouble navigating the rough terrain despite his rider and his rider’s armor while her mount struggled.

  Finally, Brelynn broke the silence. “Will we be stopping soon?”

  “Not for a while yet.” Sir Marcus glanced at the sun. “Our progress is slow enough. We must use all the daylight we have.”

  She bit back a groan as she watched him ride ramrod straight, looking as fresh and pristine as he had when they’d left the monastery that morning. She was learning how his order got their reputation.

  “What made you want to be a Knight of Valor?” Brelynn asked, trying to distract herself.

  “My father was one, and my grandfather, and his father before him.”

  “Wow, that’s a long line of Knights.”

  “It’s a family tradition,” Sir Marcus said.

  “Must be in your blood, I guess.”

  Sir Marcus said nothing though his spine stiffened.

  “That’s a lot of pressure to be a Knight of Valor and an impressive accomplishment. I was born with my magic. I had no choice but to figure out how to use it.”

  “You broke free of a vampire lord and escaped Oskelez. That’s impressive.”

  “I had help from Mara, but I guess there aren’t too many that can say that. Still, I miss some things.”

  “What could you possibly miss about Oskelez?”

  “Feather beds, bubble baths, and silk dresses for starters. I’ve had none of those since I escaped.”

  Marcus shifted in his saddle but said nothing.

  “What I don’t miss is the stench.” Or the magical duties her master forced her to perform, but she kept that to herself.

  A half smile tugged on his lips. “A city in the middle of a swamp can’t smell good.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. Still, I’d love a bowl of fresh raspberries with shaved chocolate on top. Do they have chocolate in Aerius?”

  “Of course they do.”

  “I don’t suppose Dracor allows His Knights any of that.”

  Sir Marcus chuckled. “I don’t recall taking vows against feather beds or chocolate.”

  Her brows lifted. “What vows did you take then?”

  “Doesn’t much matter. I’m retired now.”

  “You don’t look retired, and you took this mission for your king. I bet, retired or not, you still abide by whatever vows you took. Unless you’re not allowed to tell, like a secret of your order or something.”

  “Secrets breed corruption,” Sir Marcus said as if he were reciting something. “I took the standard paladin vows to oppose evil and fight it in whatever incarnation it may take. There are certain rules I abide by as a Knight of Valor, but those are about honesty and integrity.”

  “No abstaining from alcohol, rich foods, and other pleasures?”

  “If those were our standard vows, it would make it difficult to get new recruits. Besides, none of that sounds evil in moderation. Even my uncle on the High Dragon Council enjoys a glass of good brandy every night.”

  “A lot of misinformation floating around Oskelez about the Knights of Valor, which I suppose is to be expected.”

  “They tell you Dracor doesn’t allow chocolate?”

  “Close enough. All of my tutors and my master told me anything fun or pleasurable your order finds sinful.”

  “Former master,” Sir Marcus corrected. “Like my order has trouble telling the difference between a succubus and sorceress?”

  She grinned. “Yeah, like that. Your vow against evil explains why you made me drink the holy water even though your king sent you to get me.”

  “I had to be sure you weren’t evil.”

  “At least not evil enough for your gods to smite me.”

  Sir Marcus raised a brow.

  “I lived in Oskelez most of my life. You don’t survive that long without doing things you regret.”

  “That you regret them says more about you than your master forcing you to do them.”

  Brelynn swallowed back the memories as she stared toward the horizon. “Your father must be proud of you. Serious bragging potential with his son killing a lich and all.”

  “I like to think so.”

  “Like to think so?” Brelynn shook her head. “Let me guess, he’s a strong silent man not prone to expressing his feelings?”

  “I don’t know what he was like. He died when I was a child. He destroyed a powerful necromancer, but he didn’t survive the injuries he sustained in the fight.”

  Brelynn’s cheeks flushed red. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Goes with the job.”

  “Still awful for you. I don’t want to pry. If you don’t want to tell me, I get it.”

  “My father’s story is not a secret either, and the bards tell it often enough in Tamryn. My father died a hero, and his death broke my mother’s heart. She died not long after he did. My uncle raised me, and I’ve dedicated my life to the church.”

  “Until you retired?”

  Sir Marcus lifted his shoulders. “When you take vows as a Knight of Valor, it’s for life.”

  She stared at him, riding tall and strong on his mount, the epitome of a Knight of Valor. Her stomach knotted. “You didn’t think you’d survive the lich, like your father didn’t survive the necromancer, did you?”

  “One does not go into a fight with a lich thinking they’ll survive it.”

  “Then why did you go? Your family had already given so much.”

  Sir Marcus paused. “The lich was an abomination against the gods that had to be destroyed.”

  “That’s true, but there’s something more.”

  “Maybe, but it doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me. Secrets breed corruption, remember?”

  “It’s not a secret, but few want to hear it.” Sir Marcus stared across the rolling fields. “I was a young squire helping at the Temple of Thalia.”

  “I thought Knights of Valor served Dracor.”

  Sir Marcus lifted his broad shoulders. “We do, but I wanted to help the gods in whatever way I could, and I figured Dracor would want me to help the rest of the Holy Trinity if He ran out of work for me.”

  Brelynn smiled. “Of course He would.”

  “Anyway, a small group of refugees had come seeking shelter. I’ll never forget their stories. What the lich had done to them and their families, how the abomination had sacrificed their children in horrific rituals while they watched… I decided that day, whatever the cost, I had to help the people in the eastern provinces. I had to destroy the lich.�
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  And that told her more about him than any vows he took. He may look like the poster-boy for his order, but he was nothing like what she expected. “You helped them and all the people like them.”

  “At great cost.”

  “Evil doesn’t go down easily. But you knew that long before you went after a lich.”

  Sir Marcus glanced over at her. “How about you? Sorcery runs in your blood, and I understand it’s highly valued in Oskelez. I’m surprised you didn’t marry and have children to pass it on.”

  “You don’t have to be married to have kids,” Brelynn said.

  Sir Marcus blushed. “You do in Tamryn.”

  “No bastards running around Tamryn? Now that’s real magic.”

  “You have to be married if you’re a Knight of Valor,” he corrected. “That’s a rule of the order.”

  Brelynn glanced down at her empty hand, one she suspected would always be empty even if she made it to Aerius. She had no wealth or title, the usual reasons for marriage in Tamryn, and she couldn’t conceive of a Tamarian falling in love with an Oskelesian.

  But that was all right. She didn’t need love to be happy.

  At least, she told herself she didn’t.

  Before he could press further, she winked at him. “To stop you from trying to find a tactful way to ask and fail, no, I have no children. Mokkar Calmont prefers the blood of virgins.”

  Sir Marcus’s blush deepened.

  “You’re good at changing the subject,” Brelynn said. “We were talking about you.”

  “There’s not much more to know.”

  Brelynn raised her brows. “There has to be more to the Great Lich Slayer than that.”

  “Long years of training, prayer, and practice, but those don’t make good stories.”

  “You’re acquainted with Arch-Mage Ndrek.”

  “I know him.” It almost sounded like a confession.

  “How are you, a virtuous Knight of Valor, familiar with one of the king’s spies?”

  “He wasn’t always a spy.”

  “What was he before?”

  Sir Marcus shook his head. “Was, and still is, a wizard of dubious morals.”

  “I figured out the wizard part, but I’ve heard the people of Tamryn don’t trust mages.”