Nightside 11 - A Hard Days Knight

portrait at us, his eyes dark and unblinking, his lips pulled back in a grimace that was as much a snarl as a smile. He had the look of a man who would go anywhere, do anything, for the cause that drove him on. And would never, ever, let him rest. A very dangerous man.
    “Hello, Jerry,” Sir Gareth said calmly. “It’s been a while since you last spoke to any of us.”
    “As a London Knight, I was granted many privileges,” said Stark, still smiling his unnerving smile. “And they cannot be taken back. I will always have access to Castle Inconnu. You can’t keep me out. You can’t keep the truth out.”
    “What truth would that be, Jerry?” Sir Gareth said politely. “That you betrayed the cause you swore your life to? Your life and your sacred honour? That you have betrayed good men and true to the monsters you have taken as allies, men who once fought at your side and trusted you with their lives? That you have betrayed the memory of your wife, who would never have wanted to be saved at such a terrible cost?”
    “You could have found a way to save her if you’d wanted!” Stark’s glare was unwavering, his voice unforgiving. “We had time. There were options. But the Grand Master wouldn’t listen. All he cared about was victory, whatever the cost. He sacrificed my love for his triumph. Because that’s the knightly way. The truth is, Gar, you serve an inhuman cause, in inhuman ways. You’ve become the very thing you used to fight.”
    “You know that isn’t true, Jerry.” Sir Gareth’s voice remained calm, in contrast to the dark passion in Stark’s every word. “Come back to us. It’s not too late. Come home. We can help you find your way again.”
    “I have my way. You forced it on me when you let my wife die; and I have embraced it.”
    “We were friends once, Jerry. It wasn’t that long ago. Please. I don’t want to have to kill you.”
    “You see? In one breath you call me friend, and in the other you threaten to kill me. See what the order has done to you, Gar.”
    “ ‘I could not love thee, dear, half so much ...’”
    “Shut up! I don’t have to listen to that any more! They’re just words. I only wanted one thing in my life, only cared for one thing, and you let them take her from me. I will have my revenge, Gareth. I know you have Excalibur.”
    Sir Gareth carefully didn’t look at me. “How do you know that, Jerry? Which of your new friends told you that?”
    Stark sneered at him. “I have new allies. Very old and very powerful allies. They want you all dead nearly as much as I do.” He turned his cold gaze abruptly to me. “I know you, John Taylor. Get out of here while you still can. Forget whatever you were promised; you can’t trust anything they tell you. They’ll lie, cheat, and betray, in the name of their precious cause. Don’t be fooled by their fine words; they’ve forgotten what it is to be human.”
    “I always said you were the most dangerous of our enemies, Jerry,” said Sir Gareth. “Because you think you’re the good guy.”
    “I am the good guy.” The image in the portrait suddenly changed, the view pulling back sharply to show Jerusalem Stark in full figure, clad in the same gleaming steel armour as Sir Gareth. And standing beside him was the pale and shimmering image of his dead wife, Julianne. She wasn’t much of a ghost; just a semi-transparent shape in a long white dress who wasn’t always there. She faded in and out, her details vague and uncertain, her face a blur. Sir Gareth made a low noise of distress.
    “Oh don’t, Jerry. Don’t do this. Let her go.”
    Stark’s hand fell to the spun-silver cage at his belt, and at the touch of his fingers, the image of his dead wife became firm and clear. Her white dress was soaked in blood, all the way down her front. Her face was sharp and distinct now, but it held no expression at all. She looked dead. She turned her head slowly to look at Stark.
    “Let me go. If you love me, let me go.”
    Her voice gave me chills. I’ve heard the dead speak before, but never like this. Her voice was a whisper, as though it had to travel unimaginable distances to reach us. And it was full of all the despair and suffering in the world.
    “I can’t let you go,” said Stark. “I can’t. You’re all that matters to me now.”
    She reached out a hand and took his arm, and Stark shuddered despite himself. The living and the dead aren’t supposed to be close.
    “Come home, Jerry,” said Sir