Dark Armor: Dismissal

The Black Knight dropped the Champion's corpse and sheathed the gauntlet sword at his side. Then he turned to retrieve the spear. 

The moment he gripped it, it tried to turn in his hand. The armor was designed to shield him from anything that might affect his mind, so he had no way to make contact with it: no way to soothe it, no chance to try to bond to it. He could only use the armor's strength to hold it still as it tried to thrash around. The armor was already acting to suppress his pain; both his leg and his shoulder had gone completely numb. It was a profound relief, but also a danger: with that sensitivity gone, he would have to be careful not to trip or otherwise embarrass himself.

Rebka was waiting for him atop the earthworks, patient and proud in her robes, her staff held easily in her left hand. The Black Knight strode across the cobbled road in front of the now-open gates, climbed the earthworks, and stopped beside the Heir of Teregor. He held the Spear of the First out, offering it to her, and felt it quiver as Rebka laid the palm of her hand against its haft. 

Her eyes flickered briefly over him, and though her expression didn't change he saw the moment when she came to a decision. "Take it back to your crypt," she commanded. "Hold it safe there until we can restore it to its proper place."

She didn't want him seen with his armor as damaged as it was. Even if the damage had been done by a champion in command of one of the Great Weapons, she did not want the people of Marinul to see that the dark armor could be be breached, that the Black Knight could be injured. The myth of the Black Knight's invincibility was as much a part of his armor as any enchantment, and Rebka knew that as well as their father did. 

Taking back the spear was nothing more than an excuse, but Pallian wouldn't have objected to departing now even if the armor had been whole and his body uninjured. He didn't mind killing on the field of battle, especially against opponents who were properly equipped to face him -- he could live with that much -- but he had no taste for sacking the city. Rebka would tell him that it was necessary, that she had arrived in force and demanded the return of the spear; she would say that in refusing to hand it over, the city of Marinul had made itself party to the original theft. And then she would take considerable pleasure in punishing its people.

Pallian knew better than to disagree, even if he could have made himself heard from inside the armor. So he bowed, and carried the spear away. Inside his carriage, he kept a tight grip on the thing, and settled in for the long journey back to his crypt.