Chapter 265: Orders are Orders |
Bedwyr cleared his throat and gave a light knock against his leg. The hollow metal ring of his fake right hand rang out clearly and drew the eye. And Erec couldn’t help the confusion that he felt about his brother’s presence. Bedwyr belonged to the Order of the Crimson Lotus. Yet, oddly, he’d been called to Boldwick’s office too. Just like him and Colin.
Erec’s eyes lingered on the fake metal hand, and he gave a little snort. Not that this is the first time it’s happened. Bedwyr always had a way of losing his hands; across all their lives, it’d become something of a running joke around the Round Table. As for the other Knight summoned to this meeting…
Colin, who almost looked like he was about to barge into the office already.
“Two days of marriage, and here I am waiting for this meeting. If they had summoned us, they should’ve been prepared for our arrival. Even now, as I sit here, that woman is already redecorating our quarters. My quarters. The nerve. And worst of all? She’s still staying in the dorms during the weekdays—meaning I must put up with her touching my things, rearranging my room, and then she’s only there to deal with the repercussions twice a week. Let this be a lesson to you both: never get married. They touch all of your belongings, and nothing is private anymore," Colin complained.
“As long as you refrain from touching that door handle again, I'll take your advice into consideration," Bedwyr replied.
“If they didn’t want us to touch it, why have we been standing here for thirty minutes? With such a vague note, a man cannot help but urge them to deliver the news already.”
Erec glanced down at the missive in his hands; it was a quickly written note, informing him to appear at Boldwick’s office at sunrise. He reread it, looking to see if there was some kind of hidden message. Nothing. That made his stomach bubble with worry.
The only unifying factor between the three of them was their fight in the cavern. So it wasn’t a stretch to imagine it was around that; if Boldwick had questions about that source of power… how much could he reveal? Past lives told him that screaming about the Round Table was in poor form and often led to more trouble than it was worth. At least, until they’d earned enough power to proclaim their mantle.
And he glanced at his other fellow Knights; Colin, or rather, Kay, and Bedwyr—both of whom had yet to fully awaken and claim their seats at the table.
Then I’ll have to lie.
Colin moved towards the door with a scowl, once more, hand reaching for the handle. Bedwyr grabbed his wrist, and the two locked eyes.
There was a tension there, a flare of power; a spark of golden electricity in Colin's gaze, and a flake of stone skin formed on Bedwyr's face. Erec startled from his internal wrestling; both of them had brushed their mantles, provoked by the challenge. They stared at one another, flirting with taking another step towards the table, drawing upon the mantle that belonged to them. A part of them, deep down, demanded that they should challenge one another now. To test their new selves against each other—were they even aware?
Colin stepped towards Bedwyr, and Erec’s brother leered over him.
"I said not to do that. Have respect for the senior Knights," Bedwyr warned.
“Will you make me cease?” Colin asked, sparks flying from his fingertips.
The door cracked open, and the Knights stopped—both of them turning to face a man peering out. His arms were wrapped all the way up to his shoulders with discolored bandages; scars ran across his face like branches on a tree. On his chest was the symbol of the Crimson Lotus Order, in its ruby red glory. He hesitated as he looked at the three of them. Bedwyr dropped Colin’s wrist, and the man uncomfortably cleared his throat.
“We apologize for the wait. It’s my fault, so I’ll personally apologize. I need more briefing than Sir Able, and I have a lot of questions. You may enter now. Bedwyr, after this, we will run drills." He withdrew from the door, leaving it open and ushering them in.
Colin and Bedwyr shot each other one last glare; the flickers of the Round Table vanished as they once more withdrew from their power. Erec let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Eventually.
He led the way past the two of them and entered Boldwick’s office. It was organized, as it had often been. Separate maps of the Kingdom were pinned to every surface, with carefully penned notecards taped next to important points of interest. Just a passing glance revealed information he probably had no right to know; resistance groups, potential targets for questioning—the type of things a Knight Errant likely had no right to know.
Well, a typical Knight Errant.
He brought his closed fist to his chest, along with Colin and Bedwyr, as the three saluted the Knights in front of them: Sir Able, Sir Boldwick, and the mysterious Knight from the Crimson Lotus.
Sir Able gave Colin a wicked grin and leaned forward, “Nice to see you, shit-stain. Heard you got married two days ago; I didn’t see my invitation in the mail, but I know my Knight Errant must’ve just been so busy planning his wedding that he thought his superior would make it to the reception just fine without instructions. I made sure to clear my busy schedule to attend. Thank you. I especially appreciated the wine. I took a couple of bottles home to enjoy myself after.”
Colin’s jaw dropped.
“You dared to crash my wedding? And steal wine?”
The old man grinned wider. “Oooooh… careful there, sounds an awful lot like you didn’t want me there. If that’s the case, we might need to go over some complex spell formations, and drill them a thousand times—you know, just you and me, sitting near a sewer so you can conquer distractions and really get the form down. I know that’s where you work best; I can drink one of those bottles while you do—“
Boldwick coughed into his hand and gave Sir Able a look. The knight paused, pulled back his leer, and straightened up. He spoke more stiffly, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice, “We can discuss this another time, Colin. But truly, congratulations on married life. It suits you.”
“I—“
Erec bumped his friend in the shoulder, getting him to shut up.
He was still trying to ready himself for what the Knights might ask; how much he might tell. Where would he need to lie if they were about to ask about the source of their power? The petty fighting between student and mentor for Colin and Sir Able was too much of a distraction for that kind of preparation.
Boldwick opened his desk, withdrawing three papers and then sliding them across the table.
“One of these is for each of you. These are your formal orders, and for security reasons, you are not to leave this room. But I'll speak candidly and rip the band-aid off, so to speak, to save us the awkward silence of your reading what they say. Upon orders of the crown, you three have been hand-selected to take part in an expedition in a little less than two weeks. We are headed to the east. I take it you recall the strangers with the odd fatigues? They’ve invited us to meet with their people and begin formalizing an alliance.”
Silence rang, and Erec’s thoughts tumbled away. It wasn’t about the Cavern at all, then. Not yet. At least.
His blood rushed for a different reason; his fingers trembled. The flames in his chest burned and his blood began to sear, sparked with Fury at the idea of more fighting. He smiled. He couldn't help it.
The Master Knight frowned as he studied him.
We’re leaving again.
Shit. Have I done enough?
Two parts of him went to war—on one hand, he was meant to be a Knight who slung his axe. If he was going to grow, his fires needed fuel to burn brighter. That fire burned in his chest, the craving to head out in the wasteland already made his legs want to start walking.
On the other hand, responsibility had taken its role too. Lionel and Val had helped being the projects, and he could only hope in his absence their long-term strategies and VAL’s prototyped ‘offshoot subroutine’ could pick up the slack. As long as he had the right people in place to execute…
It will be fine. I need to go, this isn’t abandoning my duties.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
It was a perfect opportunity. And not just for him. He looked to his left and his right. Fellow Knights of the table who needed to be unchained to join him, so they could once more embrace the glory of the Round Table. So he wouldn’t be alone.
[We’ll need to make preparations. I'll begin putting together a schedule for our remaining time. I’ve also saved a copy of the confidential information so we may peruse it later.] VAL buzzed in his head.
Erec’s smile still lingered on his face, and Boldwick’s frown deepened.
“I’d hope to perform this expedition without any of you. As much as you two were an asset when we went to the west, I now have concerns I didn’t have then. And you’ve overextended. The conditions in the Kingdom are different. But this is upon the orders of the Crown, not mine.”
Erec did his best not to roll his eyes; he knew the Master Knight had his best interests at heart… but then, he’d seen much more war than the man knew. He’d dived through lifetimes of it. He was not yet at the same strength as the Erecs of before, but he knew that to get there, one couldn’t turn away from danger. It provoked the greatest growth. Not that he could say as much, and even the thought of trying to explain that to Boldwick made his gut churn. Despite those lifetimes of experience, Boldwick commanded respect. Both from the way he’d trained him and continued to train him, and in how he fought and led.
“This is going to be more dangerous than what you did going to Vega?” Bedwyr asked.
It was the bandaged man who spoke, his voice deep like gravel, “He’s expressed concerns, but they’ll have us, and the operation as a whole is going to accommodate more Knights. It will be a joint operation between three of the Orders, with each having its own objectives. So, where the Kingdom predicts more danger to begin with, it will provide more resources. But rest assured. I will be there. Boldwick will be there. Dangers that could take the two of us are few and far between. Do your best, Bedwyr, and let us be grateful for this opportunity to further ourselves.”
“I shall endeavor to do so,” Bedwyr promised.
Boldwick looked between the two other higher-ranking Knights, “And, along those lines, if you’re being demanded to go on this expedition, it’s only fitting to have your leading Knight go with you. There will be a week and a half of preparation; feel free to come to any of us with questions. We’ll hold briefings every couple of days to bring you up to speed on our reports, with the rest of the expedition team… before then, I urge, take time to relax and make peace with everyone you can. The wasteland is a dangerous place, and not something to be taken lightly.” With this, the Master Knight leveled a weighty stare at Erec, which made him shiver, despite the hot anticipation running through his blood.
Colin rubbed his eyes. “My wife is going to kill me.”
— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —
“I’m going to kill you guys!” Garin shouted as he ran after them through the desert trail; he threw a handful of sand at Colin, who stopped it with a sheet of lightning before it even hit him.
He scowled at the sand.
“Here we are, in the hot wasteland sun, and you’re still being ornery and throwing things; the idea was for you to take it easy by being outside, instead of being cooped up in that dorm as you have been. Listen, if you wanted to tag along for another death trip, you should’ve tried harder to become a Knight Errant,” Colin sneered at him.
In return, Garin stared daggers at the young noble.
Erec and Enide stopped; both of them looked back at their two friends. Enide gave him a look.
"Can you sort them out? It's taking too long, I really wanna show you guys my surprise," she begged.
Erec sighed, slipping back to where the two were facing off and draping an arm over Garin's shoulder. He subtly pulled the man forward, making him walk again as they talked. “If you want to come, you can simply speak to Sir Boldwick and make your case.”
“As if he’d invite me along. You two were saying he didn’t even want you to come.”
Gratefully, Garin got moving. And Enide walked ahead once more, trying to pick up their pace; behind them, Colin trailed too. Good. Part of him was really interested in what had gotten Enide so worked up; she’d burst into the dorm demanding they all come with her, all while Erec and Colin had been trying to talk down their depressed friend.
“He didn’t. But if you argue well enough, you might convince him. I am not Boldwick, but he did take you under his wing. Just like Colin and me, there is a road there, to at least try, rather than admitting defeat before you’ve even given an attempt.” Though Erec said it and knew his friend would benefit from the expedition, if it were as dangerous as Boldwick appeared to be worried about, he also wondered, briefly, if it would be best for the Master Knight to deny Garin the opportunity.
A part of him twisted, and he moved away from the complicated hurt in his gut over his mixed feelings.
Ahead, Enide spoke up. "I'm headed with. Don't see why you can't?”
“You were invited?”
“…er, not me specifically, but the Pendragons as a whole were asked to attend. So of course I’m going.”
"You are?" Erec asked, his heart giving a flutter.
"So you have an in, I don’t," Garin countered, the wasteland passing beneath their feet; they were approaching a row of cars, and the gathered Pendragons, some of whom were camped outside their vehicles with fires and beers, listening to music.
“Even if I didn’t, I would go anyway,” Enide shrugged, her pace quickening once more, making them stop talking for a second as she broke into a jog.
Just what is she so excited about?
She stopped in front of a car, putting her hands on her hips, a giant smile on her face. She looked at them all expectantly.
The three of them exchanged a confused glance.
“Well?” she asked.
“Well, what?” Colin responded.
“How do you like my wheels?”
Erec’s jaw dropped; she had gotten a car? That was—well, for a Pendragon, it was everything. It meant her father had finally accepted her as an adult; to them, owning a car was freedom itself. And nothing was more important to his girlfriend than that. He remembered countless times on their expedition where Enide had prodded Yniol to hand over his keys to her; not that this was Yniol’s car, but still.
“It’s a piece of rusted trash. Dear Goddess, Enide, could you not have gotten better?” Colin asked.
[By Dan, this thing needs a serious remodel. This is not road safe.] VAL buzzed in Erec’s head.
Erec winced; while what it meant was important, Colin and VAL had a point. The entire body of the car was rusted to the extreme. Some of the plates barely hung on the frame, bolted on with obvious gaps. Now that he looked carefully, he could definitely tell it was Enide’s, on account of her las-rifle haphazardly sticking out of the back. The thing didn’t even have a top carriage; someone had sawed through the frame and just straight up removed it for no reason, exposing it to the sun.
Not the best car he had seen in the Pendragons' caravan.
Enide frowned at Colin.
“It runs like an angel.”
“Doubtful.”
She stopped, and then ran right over to Colin, yanking him by the arm and shoving him into the back. She looked at both Erec and Garin and gave a quick, “Get the fuck in before his noble high-ass bails out. I’m going to show him how good it is if he’s going to complain without trying it. Unless you're cowards.”
“Wait—we’re talking about me approaching Sir Boldwick—“
“Don’t care, we can do it on the road. Get in.”
Colin was trying to climb out of the car. Erec gave Garin a shrug, walked over, shoved Colin back into the seat, and then leaped into the passenger seat himself. His friend let out a prolonged grunt of frustration and then also hopped in. Before Colin could make another attempt at freeing himself, the engine roared to life; the radio kicked on with the wail of an electric guitar, and Enide slammed her foot to the gas pedal.
Dust kicked up behind them in a cloud of smoke, earning some middle fingers from the Pendragons drinking in the lot, as they barreled into the wasteland. Erec braced against the frame as the entire car jerked with every little rock it passed over; the damn thing shook like it was barely held together. It was really a question of how long it could even keep going.
Colin let out a scream.
Erec grinned, and when he saw Enide’s smile, his grin grew wider; the way she focused on the road, how her hair danced with the wind, and her bright eyes lit up like the sun itself. She was proud. Well and truly deserved; “Congratulations,” he yelled to be heard over the music and the wind rushing in their ears, and she let out a laugh in response, cutting a sharp turn in the sand that made the whole car wobble.
“I’m going to vomit,” Colin yelled.
“What do I do about Boldwick!” Garin screamed from the back seat.
“Explain to him. He’ll see reason,” Erec argued back, though in his gut, he knew that might not be what happened. The truth was, there was a difference between Garin and the rest of them. The gap in strength would only grow. He was sure his best friend would become a strong Knight in his own right; but the gap there would always be present.
It was impossible to keep up with two Knights of the Round Table, except for the very few prodigies who spawned in the many worlds. Garin was many things, but not quite like those, and a part of him darkened as the realization had dawned more and more since he’d awakened. His friend would still always be his friend and would still always be useful. But the raw fighting potential was limited in comparison.
“What if he says no!”
The car gave a hitch as Enide barely avoided spinning out; they held their breath as rocks whistled out from beneath her tires.
“Holy shit,” she screamed.
“By the Goddess, stop," Colin tried to command.
Enide only laughed in response; the car barely back under control. Then she turned and looked at Garin, a madness in her eye. “Then do what you need to do, man. Be free! All of this ‘what should I do, how do I keep up—do you see me worried about that? No! Life is too short. Do what you need to do, and ask for forgiveness later!” She turned back to the sand, and somehow pushed even harder, smoke starting to spill from the hood of the car as the engine was pushed to the brink.
[That is not good. Critical engine malfunction… How is this thing even still running?]
Enide only let out a whooping cheer as the whole car rattled.
"She's fucking crazy, I can't do that," Garin said, collapsing back into his seat, clutching the side of the frame for dear life.
“Why not? You must not want it badly enough. It’s as simple as that; you damn tin cans, you always make problems so much bigger than they have to be,” Enide shook her head.
Erec looked over at her; at the steaming car they now rode, barely held together as it barreled into the wasteland. The wind in her hair was tangling with the smoke rolling off the engine of her busted-up car; sand kicked up in a plume behind her. Even with all that, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Like her, he was pulled into the moment.
And at this moment, he wanted nothing more than to distract her from the road and pull her into a kiss. It was with all the Knightly restraint he could muster, and a healthy dose of not wanting to die from a violent car crash, that he refrained.
Together, when they headed east, they would fight the wasteland hand-in-hand. It was just a question of whether her new car would make it there with them.
And out there, he hoped Enide would once more see him with all of their layered memories, restored.