Read Oath and the Measure Online
Authors: Michael Williams
As Lord Wilderness touched the wound in his chest, it puckered and closed like a scar in living wood. Serenely his eyes sought Sturm’s.
“It has come to this, young Brightblade. You have made your point and mine,” Vertumnus announced, and the stones at his feet grew over with thick moss.
“The rest is your own foolishness. You have entered my game. Which, alas, you must now play to its end, as your injured shoulder will tell you daily and nightly.
“Meet me on the first day of spring,” Vertumnus ordered, again with a strange smile. “In my stronghold amid the Southern Darkwoods. Come there alone, and we shall settle this—sword to sword, knight to knight, man to man. You have defended your father’s honor, and now I challenge yours. For now I owe you a stroke, as you owe me a life. For it is written in your cherished Measure that
any man who returns a blow must stay the course of battle
.…”
C
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OMPANIONS
THE OATH AND THE MEASURE
D
RAGONLANCE
®
Meetings Sextet • Volume Four
©1992 TSR, Inc.
All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of Wizards of the Coast LLC.
Published by Wizards of the Coast LLC. Hasbro SA,
represented by Hasbro Europe, Stockley Park, UB11 1AZ. UK
.
D
RAGONLANCE
, Wizards of the Coast, D&D, their respective logos, and TSR, Inc. are trademarks of Wizards of the Coast LLC in the U.S.A. and other countries. All other trademarks are the property of their respective owners.
All Wizards of the Coast characters and their distinctive likenesses are property of Wizards of the Coast LLC.
Cover art by: Clyde Caldwell
eISBN: 978-0-7869-6325-6
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v3.1
For Margaret Weis
Lord Alfred MarKenin grew restless as he stood
before his place at table. He shivered and rubbed his hands back to life and let his eyes wander through the council hall. Tonight it was a cold sea of banners.
The standards of the great Solamnic houses hung ghostly and strange in the wavering torchlight. The old fabric, once brilliant and thick, now gossamer with age, lifted slightly and floated as the winter wind trickled through the drafty hall. The sign of MarKenin was there, of course, and the farfetched signs of Kar-thon and of MarThasal, interwoven designs of suns, kingfishers, and stars. Among them hung proudly the intertwined roses of Uth Wistan and the phoenix of House Peres. The lesser houses—Inverno and Crownguard and Ledyard and Jeoffrey—were also represented,
and their colors fluttered dimly across one another as the banners settled. The first solemnities were observed, and three hundred Knights of Solamnia seated themselves to wait out the death of the year.