The Imperial System: Architect of an Empire

Sir Corren Valehart began his inspection of House Kael by refusing breakfast.

Kael found that suspicious.

The Imperial knight stood in Blackwood Manor’s entrance hall already dressed for the day, dark blue cloak fastened over polished traveling armor. His squire, Tomas Pell, waited several paces behind him carrying a leather writing case and Corren’s sword belt.

Kael came down the stairs fastening the cuff of his coat.

You know Edwin takes refusing food personally.

Sir Corren glanced toward the dining room.

I ate before sunrise.

At the manor?

No.

Kael stopped.

Where?

The eastern village.

Kael stared at him.

You left before sunrise?

Yes, my lord.

Without telling me.

Sir Corren considered that.

I wasn’t aware I required permission to buy bread.

Kael looked past him toward Tomas.

The boy suddenly became fascinated by the floor.

Kael folded his arms.

You weren’t buying bread.

No.

You were inspecting me.

House Kael.

Same difference.

Not remotely.

Sir Corren began walking toward the front doors.

Kael followed.

What did you find?

Good bread.

Sir Corren.

The knight looked back.

Two repaired wells. New drainage work. A farmer angry about losing access to contaminated land. Three displaced families who say they intend to remain permanently. One woman who believes your taxes will eventually increase.

Kael frowned.

They probably will.

Honest.

Sir Corren continued.

And a carpenter who informed me that if the Imperial Knight Registry delays his workers again, I will personally explain to Lord Kael why the guild roof isn’t finished.

Kael immediately knew.

Master Rowan.

Yes.

He likes you, then.

That was affection?

For Rowan, almost certainly.

Tomas made the mistake of smiling.

Sir Corren glanced at him.

You find something amusing, Squire Pell?

No, Sir.

You are becoming a poor liar.

Yes, Sir.

Kael looked between them.

How long has he been your squire?

Two years.

Tomas straightened slightly.

Two years, four months, Sir.

Corren looked at him.

Thank you for protecting history from my terrible memory.

My pleasure, Sir.

Kael smiled.

I like him.

That will pass.

Blackwood was already awake.

Hammers sounded from the growing central settlement. Wagons moved toward the market. Workers were finishing one of the drainage trenches Selene Cor Aurelius had marked near the southern road.

Sir Corren did not ask Kael for a tour.

He simply walked.

That irritated Kael more.

He stopped at the public well that Tavian had cleared two days earlier.

A woman filling two buckets recognized Kael immediately.

She bowed.

Lord Kael.

Morning.

Her eyes moved toward Corren’s armor.

Sir Knight.

Corren inclined his head.

Madam.

The woman blinked.

Kael almost laughed.

Sir Corren waited until she finished tying the buckets to a carrying pole.

May I ask you something?

She looked toward Kael first.

Kael noticed.

So did Corren.

Kael nodded.

She turned back.

Of course, Sir.

How long have you lived here?

All my life.

And Lord Kael?

She hesitated.

Kael raised an eyebrow.

Careful.

That made her laugh nervously.

Not as long.

Corren did not smile.

Has Blackwood improved since he arrived?

The woman looked at Kael again.

He stepped away.

Don’t look at me. He’s examining me, apparently.

The woman’s discomfort eased a little.

Some things are better, Sir.

Some?

Roads.

Patrols.

The new market.

Water is cleaner.

My daughter’s husband has work building houses now.

She adjusted the pole across her shoulders.

But prices went up.

Kael’s head turned.

Sir Corren noticed.

What prices?

Grain mostly.

Everyone heard Lord Kael is buying more.

Merchants hear things faster than farmers.

Kael filed that away.

The woman continued.

And there are more strangers now.

Adventurers.

Merchants.

Workers.

Not everyone likes it.

Corren asked.

Do you?

She thought before answering.

My son was going to leave for Aurelia next spring.

Now he says he might stay.

She shrugged.

I suppose that is my answer.

Then she bowed to Kael.

My lord.

Kael nodded.

Thank you.

She walked away.

Sir Corren watched her until she turned down another street.

You didn’t tell her what to say.

Of course not.

Some lords would.

Then why bother asking?

Corren gave him a brief look.

Exactly.

They continued.

Kael was beginning to understand Sir Corren’s examination.

Very little of it involved swords.

The Adventure Guild was louder than the market.

A bell rang as they approached.

Not an alarm.

A new quest had been pinned.

Adventurers clustered around the board while Galahad Charney leaned against the counter with the expression of a man already regretting every person in the building.

No pushing.

Nobody listened.

Galahad struck the counter with a wooden cup.

I said no pushing.

The room settled.

Mostly.

Kael entered with Sir Corren.

Several people noticed him.

My lord.

Lord Kael.

Others bowed awkwardly.

Sir Corren received a different reaction.

Some recognized the Imperial Registry insignia.

Several adventurers immediately stood straighter.

Galahad did not.

He looked at Kael.

You brought an examiner into my hall.

He brought himself.

Sir Corren stepped forward.

Galahad Charney.

That’s me.

Former mercenary.

Still true.

Former B-rank.

Galahad’s expression shifted.

You have been reading.

It is my profession this month.

Galahad looked toward Kael.

I already dislike him.

Get in line.

Sir Corren ignored both.

You now run an Adventurer Guild under House Kael.

Under Blackwood authority.

Not House Kael military command.

Corren’s attention sharpened.

Difference?

Galahad stepped around the counter.

A Black Dragon soldier receives an order.

An adventurer accepts a contract.

A knight swears an oath.

A mercenary sells service.

If Lord Kael starts confusing those four things, this place fails.

Kael looked at Corren.

I like this inspection now.

Corren kept his eyes on Galahad.

Suppose Lord Kael orders every adventurer in this building into battle.

Galahad shrugged.

I ask what he’s paying.

Several people laughed.

Corren did not.

And if the Empire is invaded?

Then individual adventurers decide whether to take war contracts, volunteer, flee, or continue protecting civilians.

Galahad’s voice remained level.

Guild membership does not make a man a soldier.

Good.

The answer surprised Kael.

Sir Corren turned toward him.

You established that?

With Galahad.

Keep it.

I planned to.

I’m telling you why.

Corren looked around the hall.

If House Kael eventually possesses knights, soldiers, guild adventurers and hired mercenaries, the fastest way to create disorder is pretending they all owe you the same kind of loyalty.

Kael thought of the Black Dragon.

The coming knight oath.

Galahad’s independent guild.

That mattered.

Corren continued.

A mercenary can leave when the contract ends.

An adventurer can refuse a quest.

A soldier can request discharge according to military law, but while serving he obeys command.

A sworn knight carries something more personal.

His eyes moved toward Kael.

His lord’s honor becomes part of his own.

Galahad looked toward the quest board.

Sounds exhausting.

Corren glanced at him.

It is.

Galahad nodded.

That is why I prefer being paid.

Outside, Tomas caught up carrying Corren’s writing case.

Kael looked at him.

What do squires actually do?

Tomas immediately looked toward Sir Corren.

Corren nodded.

Answer.

Tomas thought.

Whatever Sir Corren requires.

That sounds like servant work.

Tomas shook his head.

Some of it is.

I care for his weapons and armor. I handle horses. I carry correspondence. I observe meetings when allowed.

He touched the sword at his own hip.

I train every day.

Aura?

Not awakened yet, my lord.

How old are you?

Sixteen.

Sir Corren interrupted.

And if he never awakens Aura, he may still attempt formal service in another capacity.

Tomas looked mildly wounded.

I will awaken it.

Maybe.

I will, Sir.

Corren’s face remained neutral.

Hope is useful. Assumption is not.

Kael looked at Tomas.

Does he always talk to you like this?

Yes, my lord.

Why stay?

That answer came faster.

Because Sir Corren promised that if I earn knighthood, no one will ever be able to say I received it because of my family.

Kael looked at Corren.

Noble family?

Minor.

Corren answered.

His father has enough land to become annoying at banquets and not enough to matter in succession politics.

Tomas looked offended.

Sir.

Accurate?

Tomas sighed.

Yes, Sir.

Kael smiled.

He could see the purpose now.

A squire did more than carry a knight’s equipment.

Tomas was living beside the standard he hoped to meet.

Watching.

Learning.

Being corrected before mistakes became habits.

Kael thought of Damien.

Leon.

Victor.

Marcus.

If Black Dragon Knights became a permanent institution, squires would eventually follow.

Young men and women wearing the Black Dragon insignia before earning the right to call themselves knights.

That was not a decision for today.

But it belonged somewhere in the future.

The training yard was less peaceful.

Damien Ravenmoor was fighting Leon Ashford.

No wooden weapons.

Real spear.

Real sword.

Blunted training edges, but real steel.

Sir Darius Valen stood between the boundary markers with his arms behind his back.

Victor Ravenshade, Marcus Wintermere, Elias Thorn and Julian Valcrest watched from one side.

Iris Hollow sat on the fence.

Kael stopped.

I thought Darius assigned Iris to reconnaissance.

Victor answered.

She returned twenty minutes ago.

Iris lifted one hand.

Nothing new on the northern route, my lord.

And now?

Now I’m watching Damien lose.

Damien did not take his eyes off Leon.

You are remarkably brave from outside the ring.

Iris smiled.

Tracker.

Victor groaned.

She is going to use that word until we die.

Sir Darius looked toward the newcomers.

Sir Corren.

Sir Darius.

No bow.

No ceremony.

Two knights acknowledging each other.

Corren walked to the edge of the ring.

You’re using steel.

Blunted.

Still breaks bones.

Then they’ll learn not to stand where it lands.

Corren looked at Kael.

This is the man deciding whether your candidates are ready.

Kael nodded.

I know.

Darius heard him.

Yet you still complain about my methods.

Frequently.

Damien attacked.

The spear thrust toward Leon’s shoulder.

Leon caught it against his shield, but Damien changed angle before the point settled.

The shaft slid.

Damien struck Leon’s knee with the lower end.

Leon stumbled.

Victor shouted.

That’s it!

Darius’s head turned.

Victor became silent.

Damien tried to press the advantage.

Wrong decision.

Leon stepped into him.

Too close for the spear.

Shield into chest.

Damien hit the ground.

His spear spun away.

Leon placed the blunted sword at his throat.

Done.

Darius looked at Damien.

Why did you lose?

Damien remained on his back for a moment.

I chased the opening.

More.

I assumed he was off balance.

He was.

Damien sat up.

Not enough.

Darius nodded.

Leon offered him a hand.

Damien accepted it.

Sir Corren watched both men.

No resentment.

No boasting.

He looked toward Kael.

These are the two endorsed candidates?

Yes.

Corren looked at Darius.

Again.

Damien’s face fell slightly.

Leon laughed.

Darius looked at him.

You too.

Leon’s laughter stopped.

They reset.

Kael stood beside Corren.

What are you looking for?

Sir Corren answered without taking his eyes off them.

Everything.

That is Darius’s answer.

It’s a good one.

Corren pointed subtly toward Damien.

He learns quickly.

Kael nodded.

Leon?

Less aggressive. Better judgment.

And Marcus?

Marcus looked over.

Did he hear us?

Yes.

Corren didn’t care.

Strong Aura.

Poorer control.

Marcus’s jaw tightened.

Corren continued.

But he is correcting himself before every release now.

That means?

Someone got through to him.

Darius.

Kael.

Marcus looked away before either could tell whether the answer mattered.

Sir Corren glanced toward Victor.

And that one is impatient.

Victor raised both hands.

I haven’t said anything.

Your body is saying enough.

Victor stared at himself.

What is my body saying?

Iris answered.

That you want to be inside the ring.

Victor looked at her.

Whose side are you on?

Mine.

Corren almost smiled.

Then he noticed something else.

Elias Thorn was not watching Damien’s spear.

He was watching feet.

Corren stepped closer.

What are you looking at?

Elias answered without hesitation.

Sir.

Where they lose balance.

Why?

Weapons lie.

Corren’s eyebrow rose.

Explain.

Elias pointed toward Leon.

He feints with the sword.

His shoulders follow sometimes.

His feet don’t.

Darius looked toward Elias.

Again.

Everyone became quiet.

Elias seemed surprised.

Sir?

Say it again.

Elias did.

Darius looked toward Corren.

He had noticed too.

Kael filed that away.

Elias might not possess Damien’s leadership or Marcus’s raw Aura.

But he observed.

Quiet men were easy to overlook.

Darius did not.

The fight ended without a clear victor the second time.

Darius dismissed Leon and Damien to clean their equipment.

Sir Corren stayed.

Kael thought he was finished observing.

Instead, Corren walked into the ring.

Darius looked at him.

What are you doing?

Verifying something.

Corren removed his cloak and handed it to Tomas.

Then his sword.

Kael frowned.

You’re fighting without a weapon?

No.

Sir Corren pointed toward Damien.

Spear.

Damien looked between him and Darius.

Sir?

Give it to him.

Damien handed over the weapon.

Corren tested its balance.

Then looked toward Darius.

You.

Victor whispered.

Oh.

Iris leaned forward.

Kael looked between the two older knights.

You’re going to spar?

Sir Darius raised an eyebrow.

Apparently.

Sir Corren rolled one shoulder.

The Registry report says you remain combat capable.

Darius stared at him.

Combat capable.

Official language.

Darius stepped into the ring.

Kael noticed several off-duty Black Dragon soldiers quietly gathering around the yard.

Nobody called them.

Somebody had simply seen two Imperial knights enter the circle.

Word spread.

Sir Corren lowered the spear.

No Aura.

Darius nodded.

No Aura.

No killing.

Kael added.

Both men looked at him.

Kael frowned.

I felt that needed saying.

Darius drew his training sword.

Sir Corren moved first.

Fast.

Faster than Kael expected from a man in his late forties.

The spear shot toward Darius’s chest.

Darius turned.

Barely.

The point passed his coat.

Corren reversed the shaft.

Darius blocked.

Wood struck steel.

Corren kicked low.

Darius stepped over it.

No wasted movement.

Then he did nothing.

That was what caught Kael.

Sir Corren attacked three times.

Darius gave ground.

Not much.

One step.

Half step.

Turn.

The crowd became quieter.

Victor whispered.

He’s measuring him.

Damien heard.

No.

Victor looked at him.

What?

Damien’s eyes remained on Darius.

He’s measuring the spear.

Corren thrust again.

Darius caught the shaft against the flat of his sword.

His left hand moved.

Two fingers touched the wood.

Then he stepped inside.

Corren immediately released the spear with one hand to avoid being trapped.

Good decision.

Darius had already expected it.

His shoulder struck Corren’s chest.

Corren staggered.

Darius’s training blade stopped against his ribs.

The entire exchange lasted perhaps twenty seconds.

Silence.

Sir Corren looked down at the sword.

Then at Darius.

Again.

This time several Black Dragon soldiers smiled.

Darius lowered the blade.

You learned what you came to learn.

I learned that once.

I prefer repetition.

Darius almost smiled.

Your choice.

Second round.

Corren changed immediately.

No cautious probing.

He attacked as though Darius already knew everything.

Spears favored distance.

Corren used it well.

He forced Darius across the ring with six rapid thrusts, changed levels twice, then struck with the shaft when the sword moved too far right.

The blow caught Darius’s shoulder.

Victor’s eyes widened.

He hit him.

Darius heard.

So did Corren.

That seemed to amuse him.

Then Darius moved.

Kael had seen Darius fight constructs.

He had watched him cut things other men struggled to damage.

This was different.

No supernatural speed.

No Aura.

Just skill.

Darius stepped toward the next thrust before Corren had fully committed.

His blade slid along the spear shaft.

Not a block.

A guide.

The point missed his neck by inches.

Darius trapped the spear under his arm.

Corren released it instantly.

Smart again.

His fist came toward Darius’s jaw.

Darius leaned away.

Caught the wrist.

Turned.

Corren hit the dirt.

Darius’s knee stopped above his chest.

Corren laughed once.

That’s enough.

Darius stood and offered him a hand.

Corren accepted.

The Black Dragon soldiers remained silent.

Not because Darius had won.

Because he had done it without Aura.

Without strength overwhelming the other man.

Without anything dramatic.

Marcus looked disturbed by that.

Kael understood why.

Marcus had been trying to solve control with power.

Darius had just shown him what skill looked like when power was removed entirely.

Sir Corren dusted himself off.

Still combat capable.

Darius stared.

I may put that in the report.

Do so and I will deny you lodging.

Tomas struggled visibly not to laugh.

Corren handed Damien’s spear back.

Good weapon.

Damien nodded.

Thank you, Sir.

Then Corren looked at the Black Dragon soldiers around the ring.

How many of you think Sir Darius won because he is one of the Four Imperial Shields?

Nobody answered.

Corren pointed toward Victor.

You look like you have opinions.

Victor sighed.

Always me.

Answer.

Victor thought.

No, Sir.

Why?

Because you didn’t use Aura.

Corren shook his head.

Wrong.

Victor frowned.

Sir?

Sir Darius being an Imperial Shield does not make him skilled.

He is an Imperial Shield because he became skilled enough for the title to mean something.

That landed differently.

Corren looked around.

Do not worship titles backward.

Sir.

Shield.

General.

Lord.

Each means something only because someone earned enough trust, strength, service or blood to carry it.

His eyes moved toward Kael.

Some titles are inherited.

Some earned.

The dangerous ones are those who forget the difference.

Kael met his gaze.

He knew who that part was for.

Tavian sent for Kael before midday.

Urgent, the note said.

Kael arrived expecting smoke.

There was none.

That was encouraging.

Hugo Stone stood beside the central table wearing heavy gloves. Tavian had moved the Sanctum disk from beneath its glass covering and placed it on a black stone plate.

A second plate held a tiny sealed sample of corruption taken from Senn’s clothing.

Kael stopped at the doorway.

Where is Darius?

Training yard.

Then wait.

Tavian looked offended.

You are the one who usually refuses to wait.

I am improving.

Hugo nodded.

He is.

Tavian looked between them.

This entire territory has become hostile to scholarship.

Kael leaned against the doorframe.

We wait.

They waited.

Sir Darius arrived eight minutes later.

Sir Corren came with him.

Tavian frowned.

Why is he here?

Corren looked around the laboratory.

Because I was told a foreign religious artifact is being tested inside the household I am inspecting.

Reasonable.

Tavian disliked reasonable people.

Kael recognized the expression.

Darius looked at the setup.

Explain.

Tavian pointed toward the disk.

We are testing three things.

First, whether the Sanctum object reacts to the corruption without Kael present.

It had not.

Second, whether it reacts when Kael is present but not using Light.

It did.

The disk already glowed faintly.

Sir Corren noticed.

Interesting.

Tavian continued.

Third, whether it reacts differently when Kael actively uses Light.

That’s what we’re about to test.

Darius looked at Kael.

Low output.

I know.

I’m reminding you.

Kael held out his hand.

Light appeared.

Soft.

Controlled.

The disk brightened immediately.

Not merely white-gold.

Lines Kael had not seen before appeared across its surface.

Tiny markings.

Circular.

Hugo leaned closer.

Those were invisible earlier.

Tavian’s lenses caught the glow.

Yes.

Kael moved his hand slightly closer.

The corruption sample reacted.

A black thread rose inside its sealed glass vessel.

Toward Kael?

No.

Away.

Toward the disk.

Tavian froze.

Don’t move.

Kael didn’t.

The thread touched the inner side of the glass nearest the Sanctum disk.

The disk flashed.

White-gold Radiance burst outward.

Not from Kael.

Everyone felt the difference.

Kael’s Light was warm.

This wasn’t.

The Radiance felt clean in a way that made the air itself seem sharper.

Sir Corren’s hand moved toward his sword by instinct.

Darius did not draw.

The black thread recoiled.

Then the glass cracked.

Hugo moved first.

He threw a heavy containment cover over the sample.

Tavian slammed one palm against a runic plate on the table.

A barrier rose.

The black vapor struck it.

Once.

Twice.

Kael’s Light flared.

Darius stepped in front of him.

Stay.

The vapor turned toward Kael.

Then toward the disk.

The disk flashed again.

A line of Radiance crossed the containment barrier and struck the vapor.

The black mass collapsed.

Not vanished.

Collapsed.

It fell against the table like burned ash.

Silence.

Nobody moved.

Tavian slowly lowered the barrier.

Sir Corren stared at the disk.

That was Radiance.

Tavian nodded.

Yes.

Kael looked at his own hand.

And mine?

Triggered it.

Possibly strengthened it.

But the power came from the disk.

Hugo pointed toward the artifact.

There’s a crack.

Everyone looked.

A thin fracture ran from one edge of the sun-and-wing emblem.

Kael remembered Ysara’s warning.

If the corruption was strong, the disk would crack.

Run.

Tavian cursed.

Darius immediately stepped backward.

Out.

Tavian protested.

Sir Darius—

Out.

The tone ended debate.

Hugo grabbed the most important notes.

Tavian grabbed three pieces of equipment.

Kael stared at him.

You had time for three?

Priorities.

Sir Corren moved toward the door.

The disk sat alone beneath the containment cover.

Nothing happened.

They waited in the corridor.

One minute.

Two.

Five.

Tavian looked at Darius.

May I—

No.

Ten minutes.

Finally Darius allowed Tavian and Hugo back inside first.

Kael hated that.

Darius ignored him.

The disk remained cracked.

No explosion.

No new vapor.

Tavian examined it from a distance.

Its stored Radiance is weaker.

Kael entered.

So it isn’t reusable forever.

No.

Can you make another?

Tavian looked personally insulted.

No.

Can the Sanctum?

Probably.

Kael smiled faintly.

Then we know something they have that we need.

Sir Corren looked toward him.

Careful.

Kael glanced over.

I’m not joining them.

I didn’t say you were.

Corren looked at the cracked disk.

But need becomes leverage quickly.

Kael understood.

The Sanctum had given him something useful.

Not enough to solve the problem.

Enough to prove they could help.

That was deliberate.

Ysara had not brought a gift.

She had brought evidence.

Tavian looked at the ash-like residue.

There’s something else.

Kael approached.

What?

The corruption did not disappear.

Tavian pointed with a metal rod.

It changed state.

Into?

Inert material, perhaps.

Perhaps.

Tavian ignored the look.

It no longer reacts to mana.

Kael’s Light?

Tavian tested.

Nothing.

Radiance?

The disk produced only a weak glow.

Nothing else.

Hugo looked at the black ash.

Can we dispose of it?

Not until we know what it becomes under heat, water, pressure, burial—

Hugo sighed.

I should not have asked.

Kael looked toward the cracked disk.

One thing was now certain.

The Sanctum knew how to hurt the corruption.

Maybe not destroy the network.

Maybe not cleanse the central crystal.

But enough to matter.

Which meant Kael could no longer dismiss them as religious spies with old books.

They had something Blackwood lacked.

Knowledge.

Sir Corren found Kael alone near the Black Dragon Banner later that afternoon.

The training yard had emptied for the midday meal.

Damien and Leon had gone to clean weapons.

Marcus was somewhere trying to convince a candle that it should respect him.

Victor and Iris had left on patrol.

Darius had disappeared with Osric to review defensive routes.

Corren stopped beside Kael.

I need to ask you something before I write to General Hector.

Kael looked at him.

About the Sanctum?

About your knights.

Kael’s attention shifted.

Corren looked up at the Black Dragon Banner.

You intend them to swear to House Kael.

Yes.

What does that mean?

We discussed this.

We discussed allegiance.

Not the oath.

Kael frowned.

There isn’t one yet.

Exactly.

Corren faced him.

Do not wait until a man is kneeling in front of you with every noble in Blackwood watching.

Kael crossed his arms.

You want me to write it now.

I want you to decide what you’re asking them to become.

Kael looked toward the banner.

A Black Dragon Knight.

That is a title.

Not an oath.

Kael hated how similar that sounded to Darius.

What would you put in it?

Corren shook his head.

Not my house.

Kael became quiet.

The Empire had old knight oaths.

Serve the Crown.

Defend the innocent.

Honor lawful command.

Keep faith with one’s lord.

But House Kael was becoming something different.

Grom served under the same banner.

An Imperial knight might one day be commanded to protect a goblin.

Kael wanted that.

The Sanctum already distrusted his blood.

Some nobles would dislike his growing territory.

His siblings had their own ambitions.

The men kneeling before him needed to know what loyalty actually meant.

Kael spoke slowly.

They swear to House Kael.

Corren waited.

To defend Blackwood.

Still waiting.

To obey lawful commands.

Good word.

Kael looked at him.

Lawful matters.

Very much.

They do not follow an order to murder civilians simply because I gave it.

Corren nodded.

Continue.

Kael thought of Marcus’s earlier answer during Darius’s examination.

A knight’s oath could not become permission to abandon conscience.

Protect those under House Kael’s banner regardless of race.

Corren’s eyes shifted slightly.

Intentional?

Yes.

Grom.

And whoever comes after him.

Corren nodded.

Continue.

They do not betray Blackwood for coin, title, land, or another House.

Good.

Kael thought longer.

Then something more difficult came.

If House Kael and the Empire ever disagree...

Corren watched him carefully.

Kael did not finish.

That was the dangerous part.

Sir Corren spoke quietly.

There.

Kael looked at him.

There what?

That is why Hector is watching.

Kael’s expression hardened.

I am an Imperial Prince.

Yes.

House Kael exists inside the Empire.

Yes.

And yet a personal knight swears to you.

Corren stepped closer to the banner.

Suppose Emperor Augustus commands something you oppose.

Suppose one of your brothers becomes Emperor.

Suppose Imperial law orders Blackwood to surrender Grom Ironfang because goblins are declared illegal residents.

Kael’s face changed.

Corren continued.

What does Sir Damien Ravenmoor do then?

Kael answered too quickly.

He protects Grom.

Sir Corren looked at him.

Then your oath may someday place your knights against Imperial authority.

Silence.

That was not rebellion.

Not today.

But oaths were built for days when choices became difficult.

Kael looked toward the manor.

I won’t write an oath asking them to obey me even when I’m wrong.

Good.

And I won’t ask them to betray people under my protection because someone with a larger title demands it.

Corren nodded slowly.

Then write that.

Kael looked at him.

Hector won’t like it.

General Hector’s opinion is not part of your oath.

That surprised him.

Corren continued.

My job is not to create obedient household knights for the Imperial Court.

My job is to determine whether the men called Sir understand what they are swearing.

He looked directly at Kael.

And whether the lord receiving those oaths understands the weight of accepting them.

Kael looked back toward the Black Dragon Banner.

The title felt heavier again.

Good.

It should.

That evening, Kael called Sir Darius, Damien, Leon, Captain Roland, and Galahad into the manor study.

Grom came without being invited.

Kael looked at him.

Why are you here?

I heard knights.

That is not an explanation.

It is enough.

Kael decided removing him would require more effort than tolerating him.

He placed a blank sheet of parchment on the table.

Damien looked at it.

My lord?

Black Dragon Knight oath.

The room became quiet.

Leon straightened.

Galahad leaned back.

Darius looked toward Kael.

Sir Corren spoke with you.

Yes.

Good.

Kael glared at him.

You all need to stop agreeing with him.

Grom looked at the empty parchment.

You have nothing written.

That’s why you’re here.

Galahad raised an eyebrow.

Why am I here?

Because you know what loyalty bought with money looks like.

The former mercenary’s expression changed.

Fair.

Captain Roland?

Because he serves Blackwood without being a knight.

Roland nodded slowly.

Grom smiled.

And me?

Because you would have stayed anyway.

Correct.

Kael looked at Damien and Leon.

You two because if you pass, you may be the first men asked to say these words.

The weight of that landed visibly.

Neither joked.

Kael picked up the pen.

House first.

What should a Black Dragon Knight swear to protect?

Leon answered.

Lord Kael.

Grom immediately spoke.

Wrong.

Everyone looked at him.

Leon frowned.

Why?

Because lords die.

Silence.

Grom leaned on his spear.

Kings too.

Banners too.

My eastern clans had warriors swear themselves to one chief. Chief dies, sons fight, oath becomes excuse for stupidity.

He looked toward Kael.

Swear to what the lord is responsible for.

Kael understood.

Blackwood.

People.

House.

Darius nodded.

Better.

Kael wrote.

I swear to defend House Kael, the lands entrusted to it, and the people placed beneath its protection.

Galahad pointed.

People.

Not subjects?

People.

Kael answered.

Grom nodded.

Good.

Leon looked toward him.

Even enemies?

Kael thought.

Darius spoke.

An enemy inside your custody becomes a prisoner.

A knight is not required to love him.

He is required not to butcher him.

Kael added another line.

I will protect the helpless, honor surrender, and bring judgment where vengeance would make me dishonorable.

Damien read it twice.

Hard oath.

Kael looked at him.

It should be.

Galahad smiled faintly.

Now money.

Kael frowned.

There is no money in the oath.

Exactly.

Put something about it.

Darius nodded.

He is right.

Kael looked betrayed.

Galahad enjoyed that.

Damien spoke.

No knight of House Kael sells information, command, or loyalty for coin.

Kael wrote.

Leon added.

Or title.

Kael wrote that too.

Roland spoke for the first time.

Land.

Everyone looked at him.

I’ve seen soldiers leave one lord for another because a farm came with the offer.

Kael added it.

Then Grom pointed toward the parchment.

Race.

Kael nodded.

He had already decided.

He wrote slowly.

I will not deny the protection of House Kael because of blood, race, birth, or poverty.

The room became quiet again.

Grom read it.

For a man who complained about humans often, he did not joke.

Good.

Darius looked toward Kael.

Now the difficult part.

Obedience.

Kael put down the pen.

I won’t ask for blind obedience.

Then say what you will ask.

Kael looked around the table.

Lawful commands.

Darius nodded.

And honorable?

Kael thought about it.

Law can be dishonorable.

Galahad said it.

Everyone looked at him.

He shrugged.

I’ve worked for enough legal bastards.

Kael almost smiled.

True.

Damien spoke.

Then lawful and honorable command.

Darius shook his head.

Too easy to abuse.

Who decides honorable?

Leon looked at him.

The knight?

Sometimes.

Darius’s expression became serious.

But if every knight decides orders based only on personal feeling, you no longer have an order.

You have armed philosophers.

Grom laughed.

Dangerous creatures.

Kael looked at the blank space.

Then he wrote:

I will obey the lawful commands of House Kael unless obedience would require deliberate dishonor, cruelty against the innocent, or betrayal of those I am sworn to protect.

Darius read it.

Not perfect.

Kael looked at him.

Helpful.

But workable.

From Darius, that was approval.

Then came the final line.

Kael stared at the parchment for almost a minute.

Damien watched him.

My lord?

Kael picked up the pen.

My sword belongs to my oath before it belongs to my pride.

Silence.

Leon looked at Damien.

Damien looked back.

Grom nodded once.

Captain Roland smiled faintly.

Galahad leaned over.

Keep that.

Kael did.

Sir Darius read the entire oath from beginning to end.

Then looked at Kael.

There is one thing missing.

What?

What happens if you break your side of it?

Kael had not considered that.

A knight swore.

But so did a lord, in another way.

Darius continued.

You are asking men to tie their honor to House Kael.

What does House Kael owe them?

Kael stared at the parchment.

That might have been the most important question of the night.

He wrote again.

This time there was no discussion.

And House Kael, through the lord who receives this oath, shall owe protection, fair judgment, worthy command, and remembrance to the knight who gives it.

Damien’s expression changed.

Remembrance.

Kael looked at him.

If you die carrying my banner, your name doesn’t disappear because another soldier takes your place.

Nobody spoke.

Kael thought of Darius’s words from days earlier.

Know the men you ask to bleed for you.

He looked toward Damien.

Then Leon.

Then Roland.

Grom.

Darius.

Blackwood’s fifty soldiers were still small enough for Kael to know their names if he made the effort.

One day, perhaps, there would be hundreds.

Thousands.

That was precisely why the habit needed to begin now.

Darius took the parchment.

His eyes remained on the final line.

Good.

Kael leaned back.

Only good?

Sir Darius looked at him.

Do you want applause?

I knew you were going to say that.

Then stop asking for it.

Grom laughed.

The tension broke.

But Damien remained focused on the oath.

Kael noticed.

What?

Damien hesitated.

Nothing, my lord.

Say it.

Damien looked toward the Black Dragon Banner visible through the study window.

I wanted the title before.

Sir Damien Ravenmoor.

Kael waited.

Damien continued.

Now I think I want the oath more.

No one joked about that.

Sir Darius gave the parchment back to Kael.

Then earn the right to speak it.

Damien nodded.

Yes, Sir.

Much later, when everyone had left, Kael remained beside the window.

The oath sat on his desk.

Not Imperial law.

Not yet even an officially recognized House tradition.

Just ink.

But nearly everything people treated as ancient had once been new.

Outside, the Black Dragon Banner shifted in the night wind.

Fifty soldiers.

Two endorsed knight candidates.

One unfinished oath.

An Adventure Guild that had begun with dead goats and a missing lumber worker.

A territory discovering that clean water, grain, roads and promises mattered as much as swords.

And beyond Blackwood, two great powers had begun paying closer attention.

Aurelia wanted to know what Kael was building.

The Sanctum wanted to know what Kael was.

Kael looked at the oath again.

For once, neither question interested him as much as his own.

What did he want House Kael to become?

He did not have the complete answer.

But the men who eventually knelt beneath the Black Dragon Banner deserved one before they gave him their names.