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. Erik
Dornay sang quietly, with a tenderness and awe that
seemed out of place after his callous treatment of the
corpse, his sworn oath of vengeance.
Rennard stared at the young knight. Dornay had thrust his
sword into the ground. He knelt before it, still singing.
Rennard realized that it was the young knight's way of
easing his mind, preparing for the evening rituals that were
an integral part of a knight's training.
"Honor is Huma
Glory is Huma
Solamnic Knight Huma survives
Glorified Huma survives
Life: hear!"
Huma. Erik began to pray, spoke of him as Huma of
the Lance, spoke about a lance that had won the Dragon
War and swept the Dark Queen from the heavens.
Seeing Erik in the dim light of the campfire, Rennard
could almost imagine his former comrade kneeling there.
Huma and Erik Dornay were similar in appearance, even
without the hypnotic influence of the song.
"So, Huma, young squire - my kinsman - you have
become a hero. A hero." The irony was not lost on the
ghost. He had betrayed the knighthood, betrayed Huma -
one of the few Rennard had ever thought worthy of the
ideals of the Oath and the Measure. "And it was I who
helped train you, not knowing you would cause my
downfall."
Was this the reason he was here? the cursed knight
wondered. A reason involving the mortal before him? Or
was it mere coincidence?
The singing and prayers had ceased. Dornay was on his
feet now, and the sword, which had stood like a monument,
was in his hands - a deadly weapon in the grip of one well-
versed in its use
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