Escaping fates.
chapter 1: Turning your back to death.
* * *
"Bring forth the prisoner!" the shout was heard throughout the small prison camp.
And stephen felt like he is being dragged face down on rocky floor, mind still daze from a night of no sleep and the drinking of smuggled alcohol drew mists before his eyes.
It took a few minutes for him to start seeing clearly and getting used to the light.
He estimated it was about noon for the sun was shining high up in the sky and now he could see what awaits… in front of him was a platform and a slab of rock next to it leaning on it was an intimidating looking axe, in front of the stage was a crowd came from the near by town to witness what was going on… an execution.
Stephen was force by a guard to his knees in front of the slab of stone face down.
"Stephn heartreaver you are hereby excused of the following crimes: betrayal and the murder of the king's own son prince lonard the third!" the prison commander started the 'show'. "And your sentence- execution! How do you plead to these crimes?" The commander looked at stephen and the crowd grew silent and for some time stephen did not speak.
The mood was tense the atmosphere heavy and at last like a knife stephen's words cut through the air.
"guilty, I am a paladin I cannot lie. But I deem the sentence unjust!" stephen said his piece and grew silent once more and the crowed grew restless.
"Explain yourself!" Ordered the prison camp.
"I indeed killed the prince but what the king doesn't know that his son and heir fell into dark ways and dark magic and so his heart grew equally dark… he was a dark paladin! He attacked me and killed my love, then he challenged me to a duel to the death, by the law of my god and order I could not refused for it is written that if a paladin of the god of life and healing magic- 'Tahoor' is challenged by a dark one he must accept!" stephen launched into the explanation.
As he spoke the crowd was deeply moved and some cried for his innocence but the most still called for an execution.
Slowly the prison commander approached stephen and kneeled next to him-
"I believe you paladin but an order is an order, you did what you had to do and so am I!" He said to stephen quietly, but he did not notice that stephen managed to steel the commander's knife.
* * *
"This is so unfair!" cried out one of the commoners witnessing the event to his friend.
"Yeah, do you think we should help him escape?" his friend said with agreement.
"You crazy or something? You'll get us hanged talking like that!" his friend replied with shock.
As they spoke and argued a tall broad man drew near stephen the man's face was covered and only his eyes could be seen- the executioner.
Raising and inspecting the axe the man prepared for the swing that would end the once proud paladin.
Anxiety grew in the crowd and various shouts were heard, some for stephen's death and some for his life, the moment drew near.
"any last words paladin?" the man asked in a mused tone.
Stephen made no reply beside an understandable mumbling.
When stephen stopped mumbling the executioner spoke again.
"A prayer of forgiveness?" the man asked with a sarcastic tone.
"No, a prayer of good fortune…" stephen replied and immediately made his move.
While he prayed his cut the ropes binding his hands and feet and now that he was finished he launched himself into an attack.
With the speed and the grace of an cat he stabbed the executioner at the throat, a quick painless death, and he turned to look at the guards.
Ten of them gathered below the platform on which he stood, it was a hopeless battle- he had a small knife they had long swords, he was wearing a worn out tunic they well made splint mail, But he had nothing to lose.
Then he thought- "If I can get an armor and my horse I can escape! Now where did they put my armor? Nevermind there has to be one at the barracks!".
With that decision he jumped off the platform and waited to see an opening he can take, he saw one and took it…
From the corner of his eye he caught the vision of a guard taking a shot at him, at the speed of a tiger he stuck his knife at the guard's throat killing him, the guards weren't very well trained, and stephen quickly striped the dead guard of his weapon.
Now he was armed with a long sword, now he was ready, he ran towards the barracks.
* * *
the crowd was bewildered, on one hand stephen was a local hero, every body loved him, he helped every body in town in at least one way. He was always polite and he was the basic paladin from a children's story- noble kind and impressive looking. When he spoke the people were always moved no one stayed indifferent, when he fought the sight lifted the heats of men and women.
On the other hand they came to see an execution and the liked the king and his law.
"Where is he now?" a commoner asked her friend.
"Oh my god, he went for the barrack. There are always at least ten soldiers there!!" her friend replied peeking above the masses.
"I hope he wins…" they both said quietly.
As they spoke a loud noise was heard from within the barracks and a shout.
"What happened?", "Was that him?", "Is he dead yet?" were the questions on the scene.
Then a loud noise was heard as if someone flung a boulder at the door soon a guard was seen thrown clear out the window lading hard.
Another boom was heard from the barrack door only this time it gave way and opened half broken.
Behind the door the crowd could see stephen clad in chain mail armor. Though he was covered it was possible to see the blood from a new injury on stephen's shoulder.
In front of him stood ten guards armed with spears, every now and then thrusting it forwards in order to keep him at bay.
Stephen prepared himself for another fight, then he heard the sound of clapping…
"well done young paladin…" the voice of the local magistrate.
"that was a good show!" the magistrate kept talking while he clapped.
"but now it must end!" the magistrate shouted drawing his sword from its sheath. The magistrate was well armed, a bastard sword which he held with both hands and he was clad with an armor which was familiar, it was his!
The fight begun the crowd now openly cheering stephen was steering wildly cursing the magistrate and his guards.
Stephen was a skilled sword fighter trained from the age of ten but obviously so was the magistrate stephen couldn't land one hit one him and found him self as the constant defender.
At last the magistrate saw a weakness- stephen's shoulder, he went for it. With the hilt of his sword he hit stephen's shoulder as hard as he could sending violent waves of pain through stephen's body sending him to his knees.
The magistrate smiled getting ready for the final blow, he attempted an attack and with his final drop of strength stephen managed to block. He did half a job- the sword did not cut his throat as the magistrate attempted but stephen now was weaponless his sword dropped to the ground like a bird who was shot with an arrow.
"I suggest you pray now paladin for it is said that he who prays before death reaches the heavens faster…" the magistrate then launched into a long self-righteous speech which stephen did not listen to, he had to heal himself, he concentrated on that. At last he finished the healing process and found that the magistrate was still talking and that his shoulder wasn't completely healed, but it was enough, but he still did not have a weapon, and the he remembered- the knife!
* * *
"and so you see outlaw, by killing you I shall not only be helping the king I will be helping the world!!" the magistrate finally finished his long speech that no one listened to and was ready to kill.
" Any last words paladin?" the magistrate looked at stephen with disgust.
"Yes, I do have last word but they will not be reveled today!" stephen shouted as he got to his feet and quickly and skillful slashed at the magistrate's hand causing him to drop his sword, then stephen spun around his foe holding him in a choke hold and the knife at his throat.
"Good show lad!! The guard's knife, I didn't see that one coming!" the magistrate declared.
"now boy let me go…" the magistrate tried to reason with stephen.
"Only if I have your word that you'll let me go!" stephen replied fiercely.
"Oh, I have an idea! Lets negotiate, you'll let me go and I don't kill your friend!" the magistrate said in a devilish tone and gave a signal to one of the guards who just ran of.
"They say that a paladin's best friend is his horse, don't they?" the magistrate began.
When he finished talking the guard returned with several others riding and restraining a horse.
"shadowmane…" stephen let out quietly.
"So that's its name! A good looking beast… such a waste" the magistrate said. Shadowmane was a well treated horse both strong and noble. Its coat pure white as the rest of its body except his mane which was completely black thus the name shadowmane.
"chose quickly, I die the horse dies, I live I'll make sure you die quickly! Now choose!!" the magistrate ordered.
Once again the atmosphere heavy and the mood tense at last stephen spoke.
"Its time for you to pray…" he slashed at the magistrate's throat watching life seep away through it, looking up he saw his steed, a truly magnificent beast, he sped towards it.
The guards were too slow to react and soon stephen was on his horse and on his way to the gates but first the magistrate's or more truly HIS armor!
Riding towards the gate he caught the head of the magistrate and dragged him with him, the magistrate was still alive and he struggled, not much but he did. The crowd who was quiet the entire scene now rushed to open the gates of the small prison camp cheering for their hero.
He did it! He escaped and now he had time to completely heal his wounds. But he was tired and sore he will do that tomorrow. He put his armor on and as he did so he remembered how he got it. It was about a week ago in the temple of tahoor where he was a respected paladin, his love Dalana, a priestess there gave the armor to him. It was a light plate mail armor- much lighter in weight then it should have been probably some type of magic, the armor was blue and white , Dalana's favorite colors, and she said it holds great magic but did not have time to tell him what for then she was killed by the prince. Stephen now was tired and he needed sleep, he bandaged his shoulder and slept a rough sleep for he know that now he was an outlaw for the rest of his life and he would be sought after and he must keep in a low profile, maybe one of the temples of his god tahoor would give him shelter and so he must go to the city of Jonwera to seek refuge there in the great temple.