128 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Eight – A Knight Returns (1/2)

His steps were loud because plate armor isn't stealthy, especially fifty pounds of it. But it wasn't like she was hiding, having moved from hours of Tatting out hundreds of dwarves eager to get a taste of what it meant to fight with Thunder in your soul, to pounding steel.

Humans had finally come to join the cause, under the leadership of their captain, who was staring at the small woman before him with undisguised awe in his eyes.

Their captain was a man who bowed reluctantly to anyone, who carried himself with the aura of someone who had ridden through a thousand battles and treated Death as an idle companion to salute and send on its way. They had never seen him look at anyone like that.

”S-Sage Sama,” he murmured, finally looking on her with his own eyes, and without any hesitation went down on one knee.

Three other knights went down with him. The others glanced at one another, at once annoyed that he knelt before someone who was not their liege, and wondering if they should do the same.

Her eyes lifted from the forge she was working at, swept across them, silver on black, wrapped by a Tattoo Mask. Any words they had to say were stuck in their throats.

”Only these four have earned the right to kneel before me. The rest of you may withdraw.”

It wasn't very loud, but it carried like a knife to the ear. Despite themselves, the other knights found themselves withdrawing quickly and quietly, bowing as they did.

Sama looked over the kneeling knights, and put down her hammer. She went over to a Cabinet as they raised their eyes, opened a drawer, and took out The Book.

All four sighed at the same moment.

She carried the weighty thing over as if it were a toy, laid it on a Disk floating there, and flicked up her hand, holding a pen there.

”Sign your names. It was the only thing I would not do.”

Their breaths hissed out, and they rose, crowding to The Book.

They knew where their names and faces were. Gauntlets were removed, the pen was grasped, and as each turned up the page, they paused despite themselves as hundreds, thousands of days of memory surged back, brighter then before, harder, harsher, and even more cruel.

How many times had they died?

How many times had they come back to her?

They breathed to calm themselves, and not sign with shaking hands. Thunder rumbled in their souls as they set pen to paper, and that dark ink wound across the pages.

Sir Orm Trommel, the Hunting Lancer, a challenger of champions.

Sir Percean Alayn.

Sir Trosmore Alyan, Percean's younger brother.

Sir Harold Gnostmore, ”Cudgelmore”, a master of the greatmace.

She waited and watched silently, sternly, her mind like iron there in front of them, belying her stature.

When they were done, they stepped back and watched her as she gathered up The Book, and put it back in its drawer.

They would see it later tonight, remembering their comrades again.

When she turned back, her Mask was gone.

They inhaled together. The heaven's-blue eyes that could swallow the world, the face of a child old beyond her years, the scarring of the Hag's Curse... it was all there, exactly as they remembered it.

She came forward again, reaching out with her hands. They extended their own, two to one, and she laid her fingers atop them. Her soul thrummed against them, diamond lightning against their spirits, so damn strong...

”Thank you for coming back to me,” she said, the words echoing through ear and mind at the same time, filled with the only level of sincerity that could match those eyes.

Their legs quivered, and they almost fell down. They thought themselves hard men, warriors who'd killed and seen their own killed, but at this moment tears started falling down their faces despite themselves, just feeling a whisper of the soaring emotions behind those words.

Sir Trommel was the first to kneel, bringing him down to her level. ”My lady, all the hordes of the Warp would not keep us away,” he swore sincerely.

She reached out, and thorked his head promptly. ”So sentimental,” she said, but her eyes were shining, and on seeing that, Sir Trommel knew he would follow her forever. ”Up now, and to work. We've horrors to fight, and that means killing them in the downtime, and in the uptime!”