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. They fell
together in a jumbled heap, the servants frantically trying to
separate themselves from their stricken leader. It was too
late for them, however. They were infected the moment the
Night-master touched them, for such was the intensity of
the malady the gods had granted to the traitorous knight
after his death. For the only time he could recall, Rennard
was grimly pleased at the rapid speed of the plague. He
doubted any of them would live to see morning.
During the chaos, Erik Dornay woke from the blow that
had laid him unconscious. He stared at the screaming
acolytes, then his unholy companion.
"Rennard?" he asked, still dazed from the blow.
The Nightmaster rose and took a step toward Erik. The
ghost shifted, standing in front of the assassin. The Night-
master stumbled back. His remaining followers ran away.
When the Nightmaster tried to join them, however, he found
the spirit before him. Rennard drew his sword.
"I regret I cannot leave you to the fate you deserve. I
can take no chances, mortal."
The ghost knight thrust his blade into the man's chest.
The sword proved very solid.
"Why did you kill him?" Erik asked, struggling to free
himself from his bonds. "His face ... he looked as if he was
dying already."
Rennard glanced down at the body. "The others will
run back to their temple, beg Morgion to save them. He
won't. He can't. When they die, the scarlet plague dies, for
such is its way. This one, however, would serve his master
to the end. Nightmasters are chosen from among the most
fanatical of Morgion's followers
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