/I don't own anything you recognize in this story. /

Chapter Thirteen

"Today, see if you can stretch your heart and expand your love so that it touches not only those to whom you can give it easily, but also those who need it so much." -Daphine Rose Kingma

"Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart." -Confucius

The days dragged by slowly. Barely anybody came or went, only to bring him food or to interrogate him. Surely it felt like it should be months by already, but it probably wasn't, as one lost sense of time and space with nothing to do all day.

On a particular day, the prison door creaked open loudly, making Balian turn from his delirious stare out the window to see who could possibly be coming to see him at such an odd hour.

The man who came in stood and stared at the poor, pathetic prisoner wallowing away slowly at his feet. He wondered how in such a short amount of time a man could sink so deeply. The man long ago had come to the conclusion that if you trapped a man in where he didn't belong, he long gave up hope for anything.

"It is time for you to go, sir," the man said to Balian. "King Saladin is allowing you to go."

Balian glanced up at the man in unseeing, unfocused eyes, not really caring about anything. What was this man saying? Was he saying that he was allowed to go? But what brought about this change of heart in such a seemingly cold-hearted man.

"What did you say?" Balian whispered, not believing his ears.

The man sighed and shifted his feet impatiently. "The King Saladin is releasing you. Some very good…and rich friend of yours has released you from Saladin's grasp. Consider it a blessing, my friend. The king doesn't release prisoners too often."

"But Sibylla—" Balian began to ask, but the man shook his head impatiently.

"Now is not the time to be asking about the lady," the man exclaimed. "Only worry about yourself. Unless you'd rather stay as a prisoner, though I'd say it's not a very nice way to live by the looks of things."

The man strode over to where Balian sat and heaved him onto his feet. Balian stood there, legs shaking as he had not walked in many days, weeks maybe.

Slowly but surely, the man helped Balian walk out the door and down the hall. The next thing Balian knew, he was standing outside, his eyes squinting horribly against the noonday sun. Had it really been that long since he'd seen daylight that he'd be too sensitive against it?

The man released the prisoner and Balian nearly collapsed, but caught himself before he fell completely to the ground. He had to appear strong before the enemy—he didn't want them to know that he was weak.

"You're rescuers are just ahead a mile or so," the man explained, "this is where I leave you, for the king has asked me to escort you no further than here."

Balian nodded silently and began walking shakily to where he saw a dark blot in his shimmering vision. Walking for several feet, his weary legs couldn't take anymore and Balian collapsed heavily into the sand. Dimly he heard the pounding of horses' feet and stopping near him. Seeing someone jump down from the horse, Balian tried vainly to get up again, resulting only to fall down again.

"Don't try to get up, my friend, I'm here to help you," a vaguely familiar voice said. "Let me do everything for you."

Slowly, several pairs of hands grabbed Balian around the shoulders and the feet and hoisted him up onto the horse. Balian swayed slightly, grabbing the horse's mane numbly.

"Sibylla…" Balian mumbled, "I must help her, she's in trouble…"

"Don't worry, lad, Sibylla will be alright. I haven't seen a stronger woman than her. We'll be getting her in no time at all," the voice said again.

"But…Sibylla…help," Balian mumbled again and slumped over the horse's neck.

John glanced worriedly at the small group of soldiers gathered around him. They did something to Balian and by the looks of it; it wasn't good.

"It seems that this man needs help, my lord John," one of the soldiers said, "he probably won't make it back to his place."

John growled. "We're not to give up on him yet. I've come too far to allow him to die, or watch him in the act. You will try, soldier. At least take him into our camp for several days until you're sure he is strong enough to go all the way. But I don't want any giving up on your part."

The soldier bowed his head slightly before looking up again. "As you wish, sire."

"Good, then have at it. Right now, I have some business matters to attend with, I see the Moslem king isn't gong to let me go without a chat," John exclaimed, glancing at the distant people standing on guard.

"Yes, sir."

Some of the soldiers bowed and left, leading the horse with Balian unconscious on top of it, while John and the rest went the other way. This was going to be an interesting chat and all he could hope was that the meeting would go well as planned.