Book 2 Chapter 9

The men crouched, hands straying to weapon handles. “Please stand at ease, KniGhTs, adjusting, Please stand at ease Knights.” A broken electronic voice blared across the decks of the Camelot, static straining the words, making the origin uncertain. “I have assumed control of the vessel,  you are safe. That is all” The torches re-igniting at the end of the message. “I do believe that we might be under attack Sir.” Immediately Sir Ton turned towards the Knight that had spoken, Caradoc junior, currently serving as a wall knight for the Camelot’s defenses. “I, think not, Sir Caradoc, but you are well to be wary.” He managed to keep his face blank, expressionless, a skill he owed to many nights filled with cards and gambling as a youth. “This is a message for the common good, please remain calm, the ship is currently undergoing maintenance” The voice was monotonous, and still somewhat warbled from the static interference, nonetheless Sir Ton knew who it was NOT.
“It might not be an attack, but make certain all Knights will be void ready, I trust you can do it discretely.”  Sir Caradoc nodded his understanding, and darted of his movements were measured out, and purposeful, so much so that Sir Ton took a moment to admire the man’s precise motions, there was a certain beauty in a well trained warrior that stemmed from efficiency, sometimes it would reveal itself in fluid motions, other times it was the short no nonsense movement of a man who wasted nothing, today it was the latter. “I see you approve of the doctrines the wall teaches? ” Sir Bron was playing along masterfully, making light of the situation, while donning his helmet again. “Perhaps you could oversee our exercises someday, Sir Ton? ” Either that or the man was so jaded by his years of active service that he truly did not feel there was a threat. “I would be honoured, but only if you come visit the Tower’s training grounds aswell of course.” Sir Ton spoke as he wrestled his own helm back in place, the H.U.D. was flaring with confused icons. “Come on come on come on respond to me already! Stop ignoring meeeeeeee!? ” Gwenn34 was practically assaulting his ears the moment the helm was back in place. Unfortunately the assault was so loud that it nearly caused Sir Ton to bleed from his ears.

The giant staggered, and fell to the floor, clutching his head fiercely. The people watched in terror, afraid that whatever vile magic had stolen the light just now, had somehow struck one of the giants down. The frown upon old aunt Farthis face had deepened, as she fiddled with something in her pouch, the people drew closer obscuring her view. One was about to speak, she knew him, Thomas he was, and she did not like him very much, however he had survived so he deserved a second chance, even from her, so she bit her tongue and let him.”Will you cast the bones Misses Farthis? I should like to see if he will be well?” His tone and demeanor surprised her, he had always been a crass youngling, no respect towards his elders and all that, yet there was respect there now. “Aye m’boy, I shall cast and we all shall kenn what will be with him that fell.” The request had been made, so she drew her knuckle bones, each inscribed on one end with varying runes, the other end left bare polished bone, carefully she laid out her quartered cloth, now slightly stained from the troubles on the road, said a quick and quiet invocation, as she raised the bones over the center, and released them.

They watched with baited breath as the bones fell, they all saw them strike the cloth, and somehow leap from it. One after the other they sprang and clacked upon the metal flooring besides the cloth, all but three. They all bore witness as old aunt Farthis slowly turned her gaze upon her cloth, and they all saw her eyes go wide as she whispered the bones. “Mannaz,,Tiwaz reversed,,Hagalaz, Man war and destructive natural force,, at least for the better, he will fight for us in a devastating battle,” The thought of it alone terrified the old woman to her core, the horror of war was not yet over for them nor for the giants, and with how the other bones had fled, the power of the prediction must be high, either the war would come soon, or it would be one of tremendous scale. Little did she know the other meaning her runes might have had, little did she know that for the Knights her prediction meant nought but what they already knew .

The yelling stopped, the icons slowly blinked out, and the pain started to fade, somewhere in the distance a tiny voice hesitantly muttered something about elevated blood pressure and near deadly levels of adrenalin. Sir Ton rose again, his vision edged in crimson, his hearing impaired by the noise of his blood flow. “Gwenn34, be still, administer, painkillers.” He barely managed to remain upright his body not entirely healed from before now buffeted by the audio visual assault had trouble maintaining its equilibrium.
From the side he saw the medical staff stop their rushed advance, good, a leader should not be seen as weak, or so one of his mentors had always told him.
The world returned. “Gwenn34, speak softly, my ears are, in pain.”  This was shaping up to become, as his friend would say, one of those days.

This entry was posted in Geen categorie, Last Order of Knights, Verhalen van de koude grond and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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