Kendall consulted her tablet computer.
"The battle of Istria Triste was never recorded in Zandarian's history. No mention of Rangers or of a siege."
Ivan paused as he considered what Kendall said.
A wave of sadness washed over him.
The terrible bloodshed was not even worth a footnote in history. So much suffering and tragedy were lost in the mists of time.
"I remember this: This was where we prepared to make our last stand."
Ivan pointed to a weathered mine shaft, long depleted of the iron that the miners could extract.
He felt for that brief moment, his breath becoming haggard.
Ivan grunted in agony as he dragged a wounded knight with him through the tunnels of the mine. The man was twice his size while Ivan was just a gangly teenager. The poor man had been knocked out by a heavy blow while defending the inner gates against the invaders.
Every time he pulled at the man's collar, he felt his own limbs stretch to the point where they wanted to give in. Every time he felt like giving up, he refused.
Ivan was tasked to get as many of the injured to the safety of the mines as he could. If he left the man and ran for his life, he will most certainly die. Ivan will not let that happen.
After what felt like an eternity of dragging a heavy motionless body through an endlessly dark and serpentine tunnel, Ivan saw the pinprick of candlelight where the elderly, women, children, and the wounded huddled together.
There he saw Sir Wilfred, who was pale as a sheet. He had suffered an arrow through his chest and the physician was treating his wounds. Sir Ken was beside him, giving him a report on the current battle.
"The town has fallen."
"How many soldiers do we have?"
"We are left with seven men who can fight. They swore they will fight all the way and never surrender. I myself will join them shortly."
Sir Wilfred looked sad.
"Fight with honour, Sir Ken"
They clasped their hands in brotherly love.
Sir Ken nodded grimly and drew his blade and went to the entrance of the mine.
Sir Wilfred watched him go with tears streaming down his face. Ivan felt a dread in his heart. He knew that this was the last time he will see the good Sir Ken.
Sir Ken will not succeed against the enemy. He will be fighting without hope, without reward, without a witness. But Sir Ken will fight for what is right and he will keep fighting even with fallen brothers resting at his feet. He will fight as long as he could draw breath and as long as his arm could hold a weapon. He will fight without hope for a glorious homecoming. He will fight knowing all this and he will never surrender.
Ivan clenched his eyes shut and breathed deeply, willing away his sorrow.
Then they heard the clashing of blades, screams and a deathly silence.
The dismay must have shown on his face. Sir Wilfred came up to him and clapped him on the shoulder saying, "Be strong and courageous. We will make it out of this yet. This fight is not over."
Sir Wilfred doubled over in pain. He propped himself up and drew his sword.
Ivan drew his blade in return but Sir Wilfred stopped him.
Ivan protested, "I am a knight also. I will fight by your side and die with glory."
Their eyes met and for a brief moment, Ivan thought that their eyes were one and the same.
"There are many knights in this world, but a true knight is so much more. It is a code of honour. A willing sacrifice. A faith that is broken, trampled, betrayed but still very much alive."
Even though Sir Wilfred was gravely wounded, he had drawn himself to his full height.
"Have faith, Ivan of Zandar. You are not meant to die here today and you will be one of the finest knights that Zandar have."
There was the sound of slow clapping.
"Indeed. such brave words from a dying man. But you could not be more wrong, Sir Wilfred. After I grind your body into the dust before I sack Zandar of all its riches"
It was the Venetian. He sauntered over to them, alone and cocky.
"I have marched my forces into Istria Triste just to crush you, Sir Wilfred. I will savour every bit of your defeat as I have imagined it after all these years. My only regret is that you are wounded and I would have liked to defeat the Knight after knights in a fair fight"
Sir Wilfred raised his blade.
"Amazing. Everything you said was so wrong. We are pressed but not crushed. We may have suffered losses but we are not defeated. As for this wound... well your shame will be greater for losing to an old man on his deathbed."
The Venetian snarled. Sir Wilfred lunged with his sword. The Venetian laughed and parried the blow. With a deft flick of his blade, he knocked the sword from Sir Wilfred's hands. It felt to the ground with a clatter.
"Is this the famed crusader Sir Wilfred who stands before me? The first knight who charged the Saracens at Arsuf, and overthrew the walls of Zara? I see only an old man, too feeble to fight me properly."
The Venetian picked up Sir Wilfred's blade and whistled in delight.
"The star-forged blade that drunk the blood of a thousand heathens! If one were to believe the rumours, this blade was first forged in Camelot for Sir Galahad, the Pure Knight."
The Venetian levelled the blade at Sir Wilfred's chest.
"I'll cut you down you with your own blade. How ironic."
The Venetian raised the sword and brought it down upon Sir Wilfred's head.
Ivan drew his own sword and crossed swords with the Venetian, blocking the Venetian's attack in one fluid motion.
"Hands off the sword, you knave. Only a true knight carries that."
The Venetian sneered and dropped Sir Wilfred's sword and drew his own sword.
"You will pay for that with your life, boy."
"I am no boy. I am Ivan of Zandar. A knight who is sworn to serve and protect Zandar with my life."
"Impudent fool!"
The Venetian rained blow after blow while Ivan parried blow after blow.
The Venetian lunged with a thrust. Ivan darted past the Venetian and picked up Sir Wilfred's sword with his free hand.
With two swords in hand, Ivan brandished them against the Venetian.
Steel clashed against steel and Ivan slashed at his foe with two swords. Where one slash ended, another began, sparking a continuous chain of unending strikes. The Venetian parried and blocked Ivan's attacks with expert ease.
Frustrated, Ivan roared. "I am Ivan of Zandar and on my honour as a knight of Zandar, you shall not pass!"
With Sir Wilfred's blade on his left and his own sword on his right, he swung hard at the Venetian with a devastating blow. The Venetian raised his shield to defend himself. The impact shattered his own blade and left Sir Wilfred's blade soared through the air and clattered on the ground.
Ivan was weaponless and very much in shock. The Venetian let out a maniacal laugh and knocked Ivan down with a vicious strike.
"After I have defeated you, know this: All of Zandar will burn and I will wipe the name of Zandar from the face of the earth."
Suddenly there was a whistling sound and the Venetian raised his shield. An arrow had been firmly planted on it
"Not if I have anything to say about it."
Ivan was startled. Beside him, there was a hooded figure in green and silver. The hooded figure wore a pin with the crest of Zandar on it. He was like a ghost who materialized out of the blue. No one had seen him appear until now.
The hooded fitted another arrow into his bow.
"You were too arrogant, Venetian. While you were here fighting with Ivan, my Rangers fell upon your men and scattered them to the four winds. Leave now and you may yet escape with your life."
The Venetian screeched in rage and raised his sword.
The ranger fired his arrow. It grazed the cheek of the Venetian, which gave him pause.
"Venetian, that was your final warning shot. Before you stands the Ranger-General Marquis Rex. High commander of the rangers of Zandar. And as long as I am watching and I swear by my honour, not one drop of Zandarian blood will be spilt this day."
The Venetian backed away with a look of twisted hate in his face.
"You may have won. But I will avenge myself!"
With that, the Venetian turned around and ran.
Ivan felt pure relief surge through his body. Sir Wilfred let out a cheer. Then there was a loud cheer from within the mine. They were saved. The enemy was defeated.
The siege of Istria Triste was broken.
Ivan later learned that Zandar managed to hold Istria Triste for another hundred more years. Since then it exchanged hands many times over. The Mongols invaded and tore through Istria Triste which nearly destroyed Zandar in the process. It often changed hands between the Ottomans, the Byzantines, the Hapsburgs and then it was taken over by the Nazi's in WWII.
Ivan stood there, his eyes were far away and deep in thought.
Kendall said nothing. This had also happened to Koda.
How does one make meaning of this sense of displacement. Ivan had lived and suffered through terrible wars that no one around him remembers. He could only feel so alone, having lived a life that is shared by no one and known by no one.
Kendall reached out. She hesitated for a moment and then she patted Ivan gently on his back, trying to be reassuring.
"Thank you Ms. Morgan. You are very kind."