XIX

The wagon rolled into the compound, churning the snow and mud into a slushy mess. The patrol rode right to the infirmary, where several attendants rushed to meet them. The two injured knights were offloaded from the back of the wagon, one standing on his own feet, his right arm bandaged and in a sling. The other knight was brought out on a stretcher, being passed off from the knights to the nurses, and rushed inside quickly. Sir Cael watched with bloodshot eyes. He had done his best, but that man would likely never walk again. The claws of a werewolf had sliced into his back, severing his spine. Cael's battlefield magic could only do so much, and even dedicated healers would be hard pressed to fix such an injury. The other knight would be OK, although his arm would likely be useless.

Feeling dejected, Cael passed his horse off to a young initiate and headed to the command building. He was thoroughly exhausted, but he wanted to talk to the Knight-Commander tonight. Knocking the slush off his boots, he stepped into the hall. Despite it being late, the building was full of activity. Knights, initiates, and aids scrambled around everywhere. No one sulked about here, everyone moved with a sense of purpose. Cael navigated the halls in almost a daze. How had things changed around him so quickly? Had he just been that ignorant of the changing policies? It was at least partially his fault. Years ago, he had told Sir Roderic he wanted nothing to do with the politics of the knighthood. He was the oldest knight still going on patrols, constantly on the road, staying away from the bureaucratic nonsense behind these walls. Perhaps, if he was more involved things would be different. But it was too late for that now. He stopped in front of the Knight-Commanders door, focusing his thoughts. A soft voice came through the door. He frowned, not wanting to interrupt a meeting, but decided to knock anyway. There was silence for several moments, then the Knight-Commanders voice cut through the door. "Enter."

Cael rolled his shoulders back and strode in. He gave a curtain salute, then stood at rest with his hands behind his back.

"Sir Cael," said Roderic, not sounding surprised to see him. "Please, sit."

Cael glanced around the room, noting the rooms empty besides them. He sat in the chair in front of the desk, his back straight. He took a deep breath, then began.

"Sir, I want to talk to you about what's going on within the knighthood."

He stared at Roderic, looking for some kind of emotion, but instead, what he saw was just how haggard the Knight-Commander looked. His eyes sat deep in his sockets, with dark bags beneath them. His face had taken on a gaunt look, and his clothing hung loosely from his shoulders.

Cael leaned in. "Roderic, are you doing ok?"

The old knight lifted his hand. "I'm fine Cael, just...tired."

Had he really been gone that long? Had he truly not noticed how much age had crept up on his old comrade-in-arms? They used to be on the same patrols together, competing for kills, before Roderic decided to pursue command.

"Are you sure? You look...ill almost. Have you been to the-"

"I said I'm fine." Interrupted Roderic. "Now, what is so important that you come to me tonight, off the back of a patrol?"

Cael leaned back, shocked by his old friends attitude.

"I just..." His eyes hardened once again. "Things have gotten worse. The people, they no longer welcome us--let alone ask for our help. We were told to leave a village Sir. And the werewolves..."

Cael shook his head, a distant look crossing his face.

"You tell me these things like I am not aware of the situation. I can assure you, we are working to improve the reputation of the knighthood, as well as bolster out numbers." Replied Roderic.

"Cael leaned forward again. "But at what cost? Once again, we showed up too late, the wolves had attacked sooner than expected. The entire family was butchered by the time we got there. Worse still, there were more than there should have been, over twice as many. Big ones too! They fought like I had never seen before as well, not ferociously, mindlessly like normal. The smaller ones charged us, while the bigger ones hung back, waiting to strike then leaping away. It's almost like...well almost as if they had been trained!"

Roderic scoffed at this notion. "Nonsense."

"I know, I know." Continued Cael. "It sounds like the ravings of a madman. But please, Rod, you have to believe me. There's something else too."

Cael hesitated, trying to put the words together in his head.

"One of the bodies, I felt something about it. I was able to detect a trace of dormant magic. It was strong, and almost...familiar. Like I had felt it before."

Roderic frowned at him. "Listen Cael, you chose to stay with the patrols. I respected that, but with that choice, it leaves you in the dark about a lot of things. We have implemented many things to bring the knighthood back to where it used to be, and even higher! You need to trust me, things will get better."

That was the kind of answer Cael had been expecting from the beginning. The kind of thing a senior would tell a subordinate.

"This doesn't feel like the right direction Sir. Just like you said about me, you aren't out there, talking to people, looking at the corpses, watching as your brothers-in-arms get overpowered. Whatever is happening, it's making things worse, and I...I don't know if I want to be a part of it much longer."

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Silence filled the air between them. The Knight-Commander seemed to sink in on himself as he exhaled. He tipped his head to the left, as if listening to someone speak. He turned back to look at Cael dead in his eyes.

"I can't help if that's how you feel Cael. I need your trust and confidence that what we're doing is for the good of the knighthood."

"But what about for the good of the people!?" Cried Cael, his eyes looking wild. "Families are dying left and right, and we swoop in and take their children, if they're even still alive! People have become tired of it Roderic, and they don't want us around anymore."

Roderick lifted his head, some of his gruff returning to his figure.

"Do not raise your voice at me Sir Cael. I feel that you have overworked yourself. You are no longer fit to go on patrols, not right now. Take some time off, think about things."

"But sir, I-"

"That was not a question. Return to your quarters and get some rest. Take a week, two if you need it."

Cael stared at Roderic, his mouth agape. Finally, he rose. He gave a curt salute and headed to the door. Before he stepped out, he turned to look back at his old friend.

"You know, you could use some time off too, friend."

The Knight-Commander just stared back at him, his jaw firm, and eyes hard. Cael sighed and walked out, gently closing the door behind him.

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Roderic sat in his chair, the frown still on his face. Cael had been right, in some ways. But he also didn't know the full scope of things, as he rarely sat in on the council meetings.

"I can feel your smugness." Roderic said to the empty room.

To his left, the air shimmered and warped, and Orin popped into sight, a smug grin indeed on his face.

"He will cause problems." Said the mage.

Roderic turned to look at him, still frowning. "I know Cael, he was my friend, once. He also doesn't know enough to jeopardize what we're trying to do."

"True, but will he stop? Will he indeed simply take two weeks off and tour the countryside? I may not know him like you do Sir, but personally I doubt it."

Roderic thought for several minutes, mulling around in his mind what to do.

"If he spoke the truth, about the werewolves becoming that much harder to track and kill, perhaps you've done your job too well." said Roderic.

Orin smirked. "Perhaps. But just think, once we get a handle on it, we'll be seen as the most fearsome knights across the kingdom!"

"Yes, if there's anyone still left by then to think that." Countered the knight.

"Sir please," retorted Orin. "Have faith in me."

Rather than reply, Roderic started coughing. He leaned forward, hacking into a handkerchief. He stared into the mucus that was slightly tinged with blood.

"Well, he was right about one thing. I am sick, probably dying. My body feels frail Orin, my mind is starting to slip. I feel like a much older man that I am."

Orin stared down at the Knight-Commander, waiting for him to say what he knew was coming.

"I should send a message to the capital. They will need to find a suitable replacement, as no one here meets the requirements for promotion."

"But Sir, as the Knight-Commander, you could choose someone, regardless of meeting those requirements or not. I could name a few of the senior knights that would be up for the job." Orin said, leaning down towards the older knight.

"Heh, yes I could. And I'm sure one of those names you're thinking of is 'Sir Orin'."

"Maybe." Was all the mage said.

Roderic pulled a blank sheet from beneath the stack of papers on his desk, looking for his quill.

"I should do it now, actually. Before I forget. If you'd be so kind Orin, and take it to the couriers before you head to your quarters?"

"Yes, of course sir."

The knight began writing, the scratching of his quill the only sound in the room.

"So," Started Roderic, conversing while he finished his letter. "How are your uh, your experiments going?"

Orin squinted down at him. "Quite well Sir. I have managed to unlock potential from several orphans. They should prove very useful once I finish the process."

"I hope so." Mumbled Roderic, still writing. "Additional mages will be useful."

After several silent moments, Roderic set the quill down. He folded the message, then plucked the candle from his desk. He tilted it, dropping a glob of hot wax on the note. He replaced the candle, removed the ring from his finger, and pressed it down on the wax, smooshing it flat. Lifting it up, the Silverbloods crest was visible in the wax.

Handing the note to Orin, he said, "One more thing Orin. Keep an eye on Cael for me. Just, an eye, nothing more. And thank you again. I believe I will make some of that tea you left, and try to get some rest."

"Of course sir. Have a good night." Orin replied, plucking the letter from the knights hand.

Orin stepped out of the office and quickly made his way outside. The night was dark, and very cold. Orin's breath clouded in front of him as he looking at the letter in his hand. He scowled, tearing it open. He quickly scanned the page, his lips curling into a snarl. Disgusted, he folded the message and tore it up. He held the little pile of shredded paper up, then smirked as it caught fire in his palm. The light from the flames danced in his eyes.

"Only one person will be replacing you, and it won't be anyone from the capital, old fool" Whispered Orin into the darkness.