Antoinette’s repaired armor felt much more comfortable. And her side—it was as if the wound was never there. Sir Oswyn knows his herbs! she thought. She and Aelic had joined many other Glimpses in the Great Hall. There were knights in armor, ladies in long gowns, even a few children playing in the corner of the room.
“On your feet, you lot of lethargic widge-lumps!!” bellowed Kaliam as he stormed into the hall.
He startled Antoinette, Aelic, and most of the other Glimpses in the room. Antoinette and Aelic leaped up from their seats and stood very still.
Four other knights marched in with Kaliam and stood behind him at the head of the table. One of them was a stout Glimpse with dark eyes and a long coppery mustache and beard, who hefted an immense warhammer as he stepped forward.
“Very good, Sentinel!” he said. He smiled and elbowed Kaliam in the ribs. “You nearly sounded like the legendary Captain Valithor!”
“Mallik!” Kaliam exclaimed. “Do not ruin the moment!” But then he burst into laughter himself. Mallik grinned and stepped back in line as Kaliam turned and motioned for everyone to be seated.
“Citizens of Alleble!” he began. “Twelve knights will ride for Yewland at first light on the morrow. Joining me will be four members of the Elder Guard you see here: Sir Farix, Sir Tal, Sir Nock, and Sir Mallik, along with seven chosen from your ranks.”
The Glimpses near Antoinette and Aelic murmured at this announcement. “The Sentinel and four Elder Guard?” one whispered.
“Something must have gone wrong in Yewland,” said another.
Kaliam fired a harsh glare, silencing the gossip. Then he continued.
“The mighty and wise King of Alleble has chosen the twelve for this mission,” he said, looking from knight to knight. “If I call your name, stand and join me at the head of the table. For those of you left behind, understand that the decision was made because of the skills needed for this mission. Do not despair. Your turn will come.”
A wave of tension washed over the knights. Antoinette glanced at Aelic. His face was grim. His narrowed eyes glinted blue.
“Sir Aelic, as heir to Captain Valithor’s mantle, you will journey to Yewland,” Kaliam announced.
Aelic nodded and said, “My grandfather is a hero of Alleble, as is my twin in the Mirror Realm, Sir Aidan, Knight of the Dawn. Their mantles are beyond my grasp. I hope only to serve my King faithfully.” Then he took a deep breath, stepped forward, and stood beside the Sentinel.
“Sir Tobias, come forward!” Kaliam said.
A tall, thin warrior rose to his feet. He had dark hair, immaculately cut to hang just above his shoulders, and smallish brown eyes that were close set, divided only by the narrow bridge of his sharp nose. He wore gleaming armor over a rich tunic of deep blue. He looked elegant and held his walking stick as if it were a royal scepter.
“You will serve as pathfinder on this journey,” Kaliam continued. “But fear not. You will have a wealth of experience at your call. I am also a pathfinder—though, as Sentinel, I shall lead mostly in other ways. And no one in this room knows the southern routes and forest ways like Nock, for he was born in Yewland.”
Sir Tobias stroked his neatly trimmed goatee thoughtfully and said, “Sentinel Kaliam, my Captain, it will be a significant honor to chart the prudent way to Yewland. It is my hope not to trouble you or our archer extraordinaire Nock with my own mundane pathfinding tasks.”
Kaliam nodded. Sir Tobias went to the head of the table and stood proudly between Aelic and Kaliam.
“Sir Rogan,” Kaliam said. “You have come to Alleble from the ruins of Mithegard. And like the city of Seven Towers, you are rebuilt, a new servant of King Eliam. Stand and join the twelve!”
A massive Glimpse warrior stood and without a word lumbered over to Kaliam. He bowed to his commander and took his place on Kaliam’s left side. Sir Rogan was tall, and his aged leather armor could not contain his broad shoulders. He had long blond hair that fell like a cape behind his head. And his beard was just a thin goatee. Sir Rogan remained silent, but his intelligent green eyes scanned the hall restlessly. He seemed anxious as he fingered the edge of a great battleaxe at his side.
“Lady Merewen,” said Kaliam as he looked to the back of the hall where stood a form all in gray, nearly blending into the shadows. “You will travel with us to Yewland, for we have need of brave hearts such as yours.”
At first, the figure did not move. Then, slowly, Lady Merewen came forward and stood before Kaliam. Antoinette could not see her face for Lady Merewen’s head was bowed and covered by a deep hood.
“M’lord,” Lady Merewen said quietly, “you are gracious to speak to your servant with such kindness. My heart is filled with gratitude and yearns to serve the King if only in some small way. But among the Guard and the honored knights of this land? Surely there are many others more deserving and . . .” Her voice became only a whisper. “And more worthy.”
Kaliam smiled kindly and gently pushed back her hood. Lady Merewen’s hair was pure silver, but not the brittle gray of age, for it was like woven silk. And she wore it tied back in many intricate braids. A silver circlet with a single blue gem rested on her forehead above wet eyes. Antoinette marveled at her, for she was beautiful and queenly, but forlorn and sad like a queen in mourning.
“Lady Merewen,” Kaliam said, and he lifted her chin until she looked at him. “Dwell not in dreary chambers of the past. For behold! You are not what you once were! You have crossed over from death into life. You have bravely forsaken The Betrayer and embraced the one true King of all The Realm. And it is he who now embraces you, Lady Merewen. Not one of us is worthy, and yet he calls us. King Eliam has called you, and so be glad. And let your sword join our number.”
Lady Merewen smiled, and it seemed to Antoinette that it was a smile suddenly unburdened of a thousand cares. And if ever Antoinette had a doubt about the King she served, it was erased in that moment. Lady Merewen stood proudly among the others near the Sentinel’s side.
“Sir Oswyn, come join us on our mission,” Kaliam said. “And bring with you your healing salves and knowledge of herbs, minerals, and curatives.”
“Hail Kaliam!” Sir Oswyn’s rich, musical voice sang out. He rose and flung back the dark bangs of his thick mane. “Hail, and well-met! Indeed I will bring all of my special mixtures—some for healing as you say, but others for inflicting! Ha-ha! I have some new flavors that I should like to test if a willing enemy should be so bold as to ask.”
Sir Oswyn marched up to join the others, and Antoinette noticed a small lute bouncing on his back as he walked. Does he sing as he rides into battle? Antoinette wondered.
“Sir Gabriel,” Kaliam continued, “thank you for agreeing to be Alleble’s ambassador, for this journey may depend entirely upon shrewd negotiations. Yewland’s ruler has made claims which need answering, and I can think of no one better to answer than you.”
“Sentinel Kaliam,” said a thin-caped Glimpse, “with such flattering words you could easily fill the negotiator’s role. Queen Illaria is known to enjoy such quips that cater to her vanity. Nonetheless, I will not mince words with her. Something is amiss in Yewland, and her judgments of late have gone awry. The truth . . .” He patted scrolls that stuck out all along the seam of his waist belt. “The truth is what she needs. And in the King’s name, I, Gabriel, will bring her the truth.”
Sir Gabriel was noticeably older than the others. Lengthy waves of gray hair framed his long face. And unlike Sir Oswyn, whose wrinkles seemed to come from excessive humor, Sir Gabriel wore the care lines and heavy creases of much toil in thought. His beard dangled over his breastplate like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. But his age did not imply weakness. Hale and experienced, he seemed to Antoinette more like an old tree that had endured countless storms and stood defiantly on a hill waiting for more. And he wore, tucked into his belt among the parchments, two long fighting knives.
Sir Gabriel stood next to Sir Tobias, and they shared a quiet word. It seemed they’d had a friendship prior to being called as members of the twelve who would travel to Yewland.
“We stand now as eleven,” Kaliam said to the crowded hall. “The Twelfth Knight is a place of honor on all such missions as this. And I must say that the first time King Eliam called one from the Mirror Realm and named him Twelfth Knight, I was doubtful that he would live up to that calling. Nay, he surpassed it even! For who shall forget Sir Aidan, Knight of the Dawn?!”
Some in the gathered crowd cheered and some raised their goblets in reverent silence.
“So today,” Kaliam continued, “we name another Twelfth Knight from the Mirror Realm. She is Antoinette Lynn Reed. Antoinette, come forward and prepare your heart for the good confession.”
What is this? Antoinette wondered. Aidan hadn’t told her anything about a confession. She stood before Kaliam and looked questioningly into his eyes.
“Nock!” Kaliam gestured and the Glimpse archer came forward. His sandy brown hair was drawn back, and this time he wore a gold circlet above his arched brows and keen eyes. He handed a long bundle to Kaliam.
“Antoinette,” Kaliam said as he unwrapped the bundle, “this sword is Thil Galel, the Daughter of Light, so named by your Glimpse twin, Lady Gwenne. It was by her own request that—should you become the Twelfth Knight—you use her sword on our mission.”
He held the sword aloft. Torchlight gleamed off the keen double edge of the marvelous blade. Its winged silver crossguard curved slightly above the weapon’s ivory grip. And as Kaliam slashed the blade down through the air, it made an odd half-musical metallic hum.
“This blade will be yours to wield, but tonight it will be symbolic of the step of faith you are about to take. Please kneel before me.”
Antoinette knelt, and as she did so, it seemed the torchlight dimmed so that merely a small circle of light around Kaliam and herself remained.
“Antoinette, you have been called to be a valorous Knight for the Kingdom of Alleble. This is no small responsibility. And though by right of the passing of three tests, you have been found worthy, we require of you this confession. Do you, Antoinette, confess allegiance and absolute loyalty to the one true King, the provider of all that is just and good? Even were the hordes of darkness to assail you in hopeless demand of your life—even then do you swear devotion forever to the King?”
Kaliam lowered his voice so that only Antoinette could hear. “Think deeply on this, for nothing binds you to this choice. King Eliam will never force anyone to follow him. And even now, after all that you have been through, even now, you are free to choose. If you say nay, we will bear you no ill will and you will be returned swiftly to your realm. Another will be called, and you will carry on your life in much the same way as you ever did. Only reply aye if it is spoken with the deepest voice of your heart.”
Even were the hordes of darkness to assail you . . .
Antoinette stared into the eyes of the other warriors called by the King. There was great courage in those eyes. And Antoinette knew she would need such courage. This was not a trivial decision.
When Antoinette looked at Lady Merewen, she saw courage, but also there glimmered a desperate cry of thankfulness. And glad tears streaked down her face. It seemed to Antoinette that Lady Merewen was one who once had no hope but had been given hope anew, one who had nearly perished but had been rescued at the brink, one who had belonged to no one but had been adopted into the most loving of families. That’s like me, Antoinette thought.
Antoinette looked into Kaliam’s eyes and in a strangely confident voice answered, “Aye!”
“Then by the heartfelt confession of your lips,” announced Kaliam as he gently tapped Antoinette’s shoulders with the blade called Thil Galel, “I dub thee Lady Antoinette, Swordmaiden of Alleble and servant of King Eliam the Everlasting!”
After the deafening cheers died down, the celebration began. It carried on long after the twelve had left to prepare for their journey.
