Linsha thought of Shanron and checked what she was going to say. “No, not yet,” she said instead.
“Good. The less interference, the better.”
A feeling of futility crept in and fueled Linsha’s anger. “We can’t just sit by and do nothing,” she insisted. “We must help Lord Bight.”
“Lynn, I can understand your outburst because you are not aware of our designs. We do not intend to save Lord Bight. It is our desire that he be removed from his position so a more suitable leader can be placed there.”
Linsha felt her frustration boil over. Lady Karine sounded just like the Circle leaders. “More suitable!” she exploded. “There is no other man more suited to be Lord Governor of Sanction. He loves this city, and he’s tough enough to keep it in line. He would rather bury it underground with the shadowpeople than allow any order or usurper to change this city. He isn’t going to deal with the Knights of Takhisis, Sable, or anyone else, so why can’t the Solamnics just try to work with him?”
Karine didn’t move. “You do not know enough of the workings of the Circle to comprehend what is happening,” she said stiffly.
“Don’t patronize me!” Linsha shouted. “I understand my assignment perfectly well. What I do not understand is why all of you insist Lord Bight must be removed.” A terrible conclusion came to life in her thoughts, and she asked herself, why do they say “our” and “we” so much when it is the Solamnic Council who governs the Circle’s activities? “Is this decision condoned by the council? Does Grand Master Ehrling know what the Circle is trying to do here?”
Karine’s slender face was unreadable. “It is apparent you have become too emotionally involved to be effective,” she said, sliding past Linsha’s question.
A cold burst of apprehension slid over Linsha like a bitter draft. Lady Karine, as well as the Circle leaders, had enough seniority to remove her from duty, and at the worst, to disavow her, or even strip her of her Knighthood if they chose. If they were scheming without the knowledge or permission of the order’s Grand Council, they could make her vanish and no one would ever know the truth. Fiercely she drove her anger to a deep chamber in her heart and forced herself to bow.
“Lady Knight, I apologize for my doubts. I am tired and concerned for our people. I came here only to warn you of the possible attack and to seek your advice.”
“Then listen well,” the commander said coldly. “I order you to stand down. Do not go back to the palace or seek out Lord Bight with your information. Report to Lady Annian and stay with her to help organize a move against the Dark Knights. Do nothing more.”
Linsha felt her face grow hot. Her breathing turned harder and faster, and it took all her self-control to keep her voice even and calm. “What about Lord Bight?”
“The Skull Knight will take care of that problem for us. We will send our Knights to stop him before he can signal his forces.”
Linsha silently thanked whatever powers that be she had not mentioned Shanron. If all else failed and she was forcibly detained, Shanron still had Mica’s information about the Dark Knights, the plague, and its cause. “And the city? Do you plan to just let Sanction die of this plague and the Dark Knights’ swords?”
“Of course not. We will do what we can to help. If all goes as planned, the city will survive.”
But Lord Bight will not, Linsha told herself. This could not be right! There was no honor or justice in this action. Nowhere in the Measure did it suggest Knights of Solamnia could stand by and allow their enemies to assassinate a lord governor while they move in and take over his city for their own machinations. Surely, Grand Master Ehrling never condoned this.
But, oh, Paladine, what if he had?
Linsha stood still, her mind in a turmoil, her loyalty torn in two. There was nothing more she could think to say or ask, no more arguments she could put forth to Karine’s implacable countenance.
The commander raised her arm and pointed to the door. “You are dismissed. Report to Lady Annian,” she said in a voice of adamant.
A salute was almost more than Linsha could manage. Somehow she got her arm up in a crisp salute, then turned on her heel and marched out the door, her head up, her face deadpan, and with a feeling of finality, she closed the door behind her. No matter what she did, she knew Lady Karine and the Circle would not trust her for some time to come. Now she had to decide how much she trusted the Clandestine Circle.
Varia flew out of a shadowed garret and landed on Linsha’s shoulder. The lady Knight began to walk in the direction of Lady Annian’s perfume shop.
“I have been stood down,” she told the owl in a strangled voice. “They are going to hide until Lord Bight is dead, then sweep in and snatch the city out of the grasp of the Dark Knights.”
Varia uttered a strange noise like a smothered squawk. “Where are you going?”
“I am to report to Lady Annian.”
The owl was quiet for a moment, her head turned sideways to gaze solemnly at Linsha’s face. “You have a good heart, Linsha. You must follow it.”
Linsha’s eyes hurt with threatened tears. She made a face. “My heart has led me into one quagmire already. I don’t want to follow something so flawed.”
“Your affection for Ian Durne is only a small part of your spirit. Maybe I should say you have a good soul. Let it guide you.”
“It could guide me into exile or dismissal from the Knights. I don’t think I could bear to bring that kind of dishonor on my family.”
“What about the dishonor you could bring on yourself?”
“What are you, my conscience?” Linsha said it lightly, but in truth Varia was only vocalizing the sentiments another small voice whispered in her mind.
The owl did not answer. She regarded Linsha through her moon eyes for another moment or two, then she shifted her gaze to the streets behind them.
Linsha continued to walk, although by now she paid little attention to where she was. A faint light, yellow and orange, lined the eastern mountains, and the stars retreated before the approaching sun. She looked to the east and saw Mount Thunderhorn illuminated with a dawn light that lit its smoke-crowned peak with fire and glowed on its rugged inclines. Up there, she knew, Lord Bight would soon be walking to stand on the boulder-strewn slopes and face the power of the volcano. He had asked her to be with him and protect him during the execution of his spells. Had he known of the presence of an assassin? How would he feel when she did not appear?
It was time to choose. Would she be his friend or his enemy? Either choice bore a great cost. If she chose to believe in the integrity of the Circle, to blindly follow her oath and return as ordered to Lady Annian, she would turn her back on Sanction, on Lord Bight, a man she deeply admired, and on Ian Durne, the man she wanted to love. They would be condemned to whatever fate befell them without warning, without help, without support from her. She would betray Lord Bight’s faith in her, Shanron’s trust, and her own promise to Mica and follow a course of action she did not believe to be right or honorable. Nor could she willingly put the entire responsibility on Shanron. While it was true Shanron had heard Mica’s message and was capable of defending Lord Bight from most men, she was no match for a Skull Knight.
If, however, Linsha chose to disobey the Circle and help Lord Bight, she could face punishment and possibly the dishonor of exile and disgrace. There was no time to present her case to the Solamnic Council; she would have to act on her own, and in doing so, she could lose her place in the order, in her very world. Part of her thoughts wished fervently Caramon or Palin could be here to help her sort through this dreadful maze and to give her their blessing on whatever decision she made. She had tried for so many years to make her parents and grandparents proud of her. How would they understand this?
Yet, another part of her knew this resolution was hers alone. She could seek sanction from no one but herself. It was her sense of honor and justice she had to satisfy, her conscience she had to live with.