Story (Knightfall) The Sword is Drawn (Landry, Talus), Vignette

Title: The Sword is Drawn…

Author: Master_Lok

Fandom: Knightfall
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG
Time Frame: Speculating on Season Two
Characters: Landry de Luzon, Talus

Summary: So, Templar Knight Landry is still rather cocky, despite losing the title of Paris Temple Master in a rather selfish way (not remaining celibate amongst other things). Thus, he gets his come upppence when he’s forced to start his Templar training with a new Initiate Master, the Crusades P.O.W. Talus. Going only by the sentence or two that describes their relations (which sound ridiculously strained), I imagined Landry’s first meeting with his older, more devout peer.

Notes: Okay, I lost my stuff when Mark Hamill finally revealed his Knightfall character, Talus on Twitter back in September. I’ve doodled and thought about Talus constantly since that reveal two months ago. I mean -LUKEIT- (http://www.theforce.net/story/front...Knight_Templar_Talus_In_Knightfall_181992.asp)

Disclaimer: Not a scrap of this story is mine, save for the words. All characters the property of History Channel, .etc.

There were several areas in the Paris Temple where Initiates train. As Knights, we came in with an understanding of battle and our chosen weapons, but practice was vital for us to maintain our skills. As an Initiate, I was told my circuit would be indoors in my first session with our new Initiate Master. I have to focus on the present. I must continuously train in the ways of battle to protect...the great door opens, vomiting my weary peers.

From the looks on my younger cohorts faces, as they exit, I could see that the Order was again serious about producing more righteous knights. “Talus...” they wince. I grin back. The experience and memory of weapons usage are woven into my limbs. I would not crumble before the Initiate Master as my new brothers do. I walk into the space they barely stumble away from.

Immediately, my eyes capture how light and shadow dart and arc across the walls. I realize then this training space was different than any interior I’d ever fought or practiced in. The walls widened and constricted at various points. A faint wisp of incense lingers. I grin. Aye, gone are days of initiate masters who granted a few moments of camaraderie before the lessons erupted.

Running my hand against the rough-hewn stone, I could feel where this room could become a problem when wielding a lance, spear, or a broadsword. The walls reveal gashes and holes as if weapons became lodged. I thought about this more, imagining a Templar candidate swinging their weapon wide, only to become trapped and open for attack as their weapon’s blade got stuck in the narrow wall. I picked up a spear and tested my theory.

A slow clap rings in my ears.

I turn around to face a man whose appearance suggested an age well beyond most knights. He looked older than our Grand Master de Molay.

Staring at my fellow Templar, memories swirl back to the fall of Acre. The core of who we were, what we swore to do, was at the bottom of the sea beyond that sacred ground. We thought the Grail was lost to us in that tide; the sea that swallowed our oaths, hopes and glories whole.

There were whispers...of a few left behind at Acre, and of another unit whom immediately went back. For our brothers, for honor, for God, for the Grail.

I try my lance theory again, trying not to focus on my audience.

I was envious of the knights who continued our hallowed task of protecting pilgrims. For many years, I wanted to go back. When the news came that most of the rescue unit died, our enemy cut through them. My heart sank and began to wander. The Templars who did not perish instantly were made to suffer like the graven knight in front of me.

The clap repeats in the same timber.

“Initiate Master Talus?”

He nods. “Initiate Landry, perform this strategy you’ve discovered again.”

For the third time, I display the strikes that would force any long-bladed weapon into the nearest wall.

“Good. I knew you would pick up on this.”

“Thank you, teacher.”

“Observation is not always gifted to those who need it most,” Talus barely pauses. “The strategy you display is quite obvious. Amazing how few see that.”

My bravado collapses as I feel the shadow of my former rank slip away. So my first impression wasn’t the leverage I hoped. I look down at my garb, I wear the padded uniform of an Initiate, forced to start this life again from the very beginning. My sight rises, resting upon the crimson leather cross on Talus’ mantle. Many Templar units wore different variations on the red cross which identifies us to the world. The use of leather did not surprise me. Hard leather provides extra protection. Talus’ bloodied shoulder guards confirm this as fact. Incorporating that leather onto the mantle was smart.

Perhaps if I can win Talus’ favor, I will ask the Initiate Master if the hard leather cross was his idea. If I could get past that stare. I’ve stood eye-to-eye with Pope Boniface and our Grand Master. Nay, few intimidated me these days; but there was something both alive and dead within Talus’ sight. Something that scares me. Before him, my body shudders, every bit the new recruit.

It was then I indeed notice the map of dread -the gruesome scars- bisecting areas of my teacher’s face. He wore pain that was well beyond anything I’d known. And in those eyes, I saw faith and war.

My thoughts roam, Who else among us could survive these torments? Perhaps Tancrede. Yes. Only Tancrede.

The Saracen ways of dealing with enemies are as harsh as the arid climate. Their fire and water techniques flash vividly in my mind, as I find myself looking deeper into Talus’ unflinching stare. I did not shudder. I dare not.

I’ve taken many beatings and knocks, but I know that amount of agony this knight wears would ruin me. I quaked and thrashed when Rashid and members of the Brotherhood of Light lashed me with water and fire before I confessed to them. I was made to fear death as a result of my failings with God. My desires and recklessness cast me low. Now I try to forget those failings as I remain silent before Talus.

Yet I could not stop staring, could not stop imagining what Talus had been through. I could barely endure 10 minutes of Saracen torments.

We Templars are taught that scars and injuries are blessings. Most of us feel that way for a while. I think of Gawain with a pang of regret. Of what he gave up for me, of how I cast him aside when Gawain’s devotion to me and the Order were so deep, but in the end, his anger consumed and damned him. Gawain marked me with his wrath, striking my left knee. It was the first time I understood the physical torment of warfare.

Yes, we believe that such marks were blessings that we might serve God again. Trials of the flesh which push us to continue our work to allow all people to live in the great spaces of the holy land. These scars, these trophies of life. As my knee will remind me. I will be stronger because of the blow Gawain dealt upon me. I will not fall. I will not fail.

The Initiate Master and I face each other solemnly. The older man says nothing, studying me. My teacher. My judge and jury. And I pray, not my executioner.

“Too eager. That is why you could not continue as a Master.” Talus spoke without contempt.

That I could admire.

“And imbibing in pleasures which are forbidden.”

My flaking lips flatline. A compliment and a complaint. Though accurate and fair the criticism may be, I am thirsty for water, for war, for guidance. Not lust. My affair with Queen Joan was thankfully forgotten by most, despite the scenes in the forest. “Pleasures that are in the past, gracious Initiate Master.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “We shall see if that is so.”

I bow. “Yes, sir.”

Talus offers no quarter, looming over me. “You seek to replace these desires with Godliness?”

“Yes...Yes, Master.” I look skyward. A mistake. This used to mean something to me. I was a fool even to try. The zealot in him emerges as his lips retreat beneath that beard: Talus snorts, grabbing me by the shoulders. His grip callused, strong, focused. My sweat pools upon my brow as I feel his strength. My knees nearly buckle - easy after Gawain’s vengeful blow.

The Initiate Master is testing me. I would not dare to anger him, for despite the years that flow from his jaw, I know now Talus could snuff my life easier. He was a born warrior and had not been out of practice in the art of combat. How in God’s name did this Knight up his skills in a Saracen prison?

“The ceiling will not hear you son.”

“Sir, I...”

“Landry.” He admonishes me quietly, pointing to the cross on our mantles before resting a finger on my mouth. I saw the faith in his gaze then. Peaceful, knowing, and altogether finite. His eyes seem to glow in the fading candlelight as he focuses on the same point in the ceiling. Nay, he is not looking at the ceiling.

“We will work on your inner and outer strength, and then you will again know the glories we are blessed to see.”

I nod, but that wasn’t enough. Reverence extinguished, Talus reveals his sword. I was too slow in producing mine.

“Yes. You need work initiate.” The Initiate Master does not gloat. His tone is commanding, modulated. “You are a good observer, but slow to mobilize. Too eager to prove yourself beyond these walls and yet...”

I turn away, feeling like a youthful novice.

Talus holds his broadsword out as if pointing to an unseen enemy. “Come, Initiate. The sword is more than an extension of you,” his voice deepens. “It is the Wrath of God. To wield the sword of our calling is to understand divine precision. It connects us to the oaths we pledge and to our Lord. To become one with your sword is paramount.”

“Yes, Master.” I mutter, having forgotten lessons like these. I watch him sheath his blade and know I must be very present when working with Talus. There was no ambition here, Talus only wants to serve God. He expects us to do the same. His sword is back in its sheath.

“Initiate,” he says, laying a scarred hand upon his beard. “Remember the sword is above all.”

My curiosity breaks my concentration. “How did you survive, Master?” Yes, I am thirteen all over again.

Talus laughs. “How do any of us survive, Landry? By our Lord’s will. Through my incarceration, I had numerous epiphanies of agony. I have been blessed many times with our Lord’s will.” He eyes me carefully. “Initiate, in your time as a Templar, surely you have not forgotten this?”

“No, sir!” Epiphanies of agony. My grimace betrays me.

Talus’ stare sours. “So, the stories of your loss of faith are true. Not just in your time with the Queen.” His left hands fall to his sword. “Templar initiate you will not forget God’s Will.”

He notes the initiate blade secure at my waist and lunges toward me, unsheathing my sword. “A man almost twice your age, a Knight imprisoned and tortured for the past ten years is faster than you. Can such a man and knight be faster than former Temple Master Landry de Luzon?!?”

He thrusts this sword into my hands.

The shock of his abrupt maneuver cost me my hold on the weapon. I bow my head as my blade clatters onto the stone floor. “You are faster. You speak true, Initiate Master Talus.”

Again, I am not ready to receive the blade.

A sigh turns to a snarl as Talus glares at the discarded weapon and then at me. My knees howl as the Initiate Master forces me to kneel, his grip constricting my movement. I am not surprised as the older man forces eye contact.

“You will never forget His will again, Landry. I will make sure of this.”

 

For purposes of full disclosure, I don't know anything about this fandom. I'm just reading/enjoying this for what it is, not what it represents as a backdrop of the show.


in the ways of battle to protect...the great door opens, vomiting my weary peers.

Very good image, and perfectly timed so I don't get to hear what 'you' need to protect.


I would not crumble before the Initiate Master as my new brothers do. I walk into the space they barely stumble away from.

Well written, great images and we learn a little about this character's fortitude, or supposed fortitude.


only to become trapped and open for attack as their weapon’s blade got stuck in the narrow wall.

That's why you should always train in more than one weapon.


If I could get past that stare.

Part of the reason those other Initiates were so befuddled, perhaps?


My desires and recklessness cast me low.

More great character info and introspection. I love good introspection.


I will not fall. I will not fail.

Telling yourself that doesn't necessarily make it so, eh?


I know now Talus could snuff my life easier.

He was a great Jedi until Disney destroyed him.


“The ceiling will not hear you son.”

That made me...


I have been blessed many times with our Lord’s will.

He thinks of pain as a blessing. Interesting trait for a zealot. And a Templar, I suppose.


“You will never forget His will again, Landry. I will make sure of this.”

Cool and ominous ending.

While I don't know about the show, this is a good story with a great possibility for continuing. Well done; I thoroughly enjoyed it.

 

@Vek Talis Thank you very much for the kind words. I loved your story and seeing what worked for you helps a lot.

I worked in as much of Landry’s season 1 stuff as I could, so folks coming in blind for Mark Hamill’s character in season 2 would have an idea of what happened.

BTW loved your Disney quip - so true.

Knightfall isn’t anywhere close to 100% accurate with the Templars history and is mixing that with Arthurian lore - which works fine for me. I enjoyed season 1 quite a bit and with Mark’s addition, I am luking forward to seeing how Talus makes Landrys’ climb back up the ladder all the more difficult. The idea of scars and injuries being blessings was mentioned about Talus and in season 1.

Anyway, thanks for taking the time to read and comment.

 

I watched season 1 of this show by an UK imported DVD and I like it a lot. Cannot wait to get my hands on season 2, especially with Mark in it.

 

Cannot wait for the premiere later next month. I promise not to spoil, but perhaps tease. Until you can obtain season 2.

Thank you very much Mira. I appreciate your comments and for reading the story. It spoils a lot about Landry in season 1, but not everything (not nearly everything).