Chapter 4
"The Knight's Departure"
It was a few hours after dusk and the Captain's tent was in a frenzied array. Torn bits of parchment littered everywhere while whole stacks of it were piled disorderly in the corners. Food on a small short table sat untouched while a tall wine bottle was opened and half of its contents had already been drunk; a round cup had fallen on its side, fortunately empty. The table cover was spotted here and there with big black ink spills and broken quills scattered on the rugged floor. Pieces of garments were lying forgotten near the foot of the make shift bed of furs, which was the only well tucked item in the room since it was still quite intact as though it hadn't been slept in for days.
A few meters away, some distance from the low table sat the head knight, the Captain, Sir Callium brooding grimly over the epistle recently sent to him just that morning. Then, he looked up with an expression of a man who had just made a final crucial decision. Dark circles were blemished underneath his eyes disclosing the fact that the Captain had neither food nor rest in the last few days. Folding the brown parchment and tossing it onto the small table, he searched around his cluttered tent and, finding what he was seeking, took up his chain mail attire immediately donning it.
As the knight continued armoring himself, the sound of his tent flaps being flustered open made him look up as he was tying his waist belt around himself. Seeing who it was, he smiled grimly and returned to dressing himself.
It was Grêth who had entered and it seemed as if he was about to say something of some importance when he stopped as he watched the knight in silent surprise. Then as if realizing that he had forgotten himself, he bowed respectfully and said graciously,
"My lord."
"Grêth." The knight acknowledged without looking up as he buckled his belt and moved to look for his sword. "I was about to call for you but I think it's less complicated this way. There's something I have to speak to you about, that is of vital importance."
"There's something I have to say as well but—"
"But what?" the knight asked looking at the old man briefly.
"But…" then taking a short deep breath, "I have to ask, where you think you're advancing off to Callium."
The knight sighed impatiently as he located his sword sheathed in his scabbard as he stated viciously, "I've just received word from our watchtower based near the Groidoin River. It seems that our battle with the Dark Knights have yet to come to an end for, I believe, they have not forgotten our encounter in the North and are set on executing their revenge."
"Revenge? How?"
"They've just implored their dissipated Queen for aid and with her Black Magic, sent demons to possess the peaceful tribe of Yuorjuns living just a few leagues away from the river, their village if you recall is hidden beneath the protection of the Groidoin forest. Ergo, with their minds cursed, they've sent a full assault on our watchtower."
The healer shook his head in utter disbelief, "But we've never even seen hide or hair of the Yuorjuns for decades! What reasons have they to launch this incredulous attack on our watchtower?"
The knight's copper eyes flashed and he growled, "Did I fail to mention that they're possessed! The attack has already been made and has been going on for more than four days. What's more, it seems our allies have not yet responded to my dispatches calling for their aid. Only a month or was it the other, did I receive a notice that we have lost one of our most trusted alliances, the Drotùrth who have chosen this time, very appropriately, to migrate to the East!"
"But, Callium… what about the men? They're tired and are expected earnestly in their homes. They've been very outspoken about their desire of returning back into the arms of their wives and children. Tell me what you expect to tell them when you emerge from this tent armed to the teeth for battle. They cannot bear the thought of being so prematurely restored to their battle post after months of warfare and traveling. They've made it this far alive! Why do you wish to so abruptly deprive them of it when they've started to believe there might still be a chance for them to live?"
The knight stopped a moment and leaned an arm on one of the thick posts on the side that held up his tent, sighing wearily; the dilemma evidently tearing him apart.
"You cannot lead them into battle now…not yet." Grêth implored softly.
"Then what would you have me do?" the knight asked in a savage whisper, his expression crossed and heated. "If I do not ride for Groidoin Gate, I will have condemned my men there to their death. Is that what you wish me to do? I have thought this matter over for many hours Master Grêth and I've reached my decision. If I leave those men to their fate, not only will I be risking total damnation for their souls but also for the souls of our people. I have already sent word to Wǖrth to dispatch reinforcements to the Groidoin tower. If the Yourjuns take over the Groidoin, only the gods know where they would strike next and you know what lies just beyond the sights of the watchtower"
The knight eyed his friend knowingly.
Grêth stated grievously, "Wrǖth kingdom."
As if satisfied that he had made his point quite clear, the knight checked the fastenings of his armor, to see if they were clasped on correctly.
"When do you intend to depart, my lord?" the old man asked in an almost casual tone.
"Before dawn. Or earlier if it is possible."
"And what would become of your ill and wounded men?"
"I leave them to your care."
"My care? What do you mean?"
Sighing roughly, Sir Callium replied, "I'm leaving them to you because whilst I and my men take a different path, we will reach our destination in not more than three days if we are not burdened with the wounded. You, Grêth must continue the road home. I'll have Sir Willfrod and Sir Ascanuth, the elder knights, with a few foot soldiers as your escorts. If you are in need of any, of course but, considering such evil times; I cannot take any risks even with you, my friend. Your powers are great but I fear they have weakened much since our last battle, have they not?"
Finding no reason to deny something so evident, Grêth replied, "Nothing escapes you, Callium."
"So be it then. I must go inform my men. They will not be happy about this account but it's our duty and obligation to the people of the West Land of Waldǖrth, our fatherland and Wrǖth our kingdom."
Bowing respectfully, Grêth searched his mind frantically for some other reason or cause to alter this impetuous decision of the Captain but only stuttered, "But—my lord—Callium!"
Frowning edgily, the knight looked at him, "You dare hinder me a little longer! My time is pressing and dire!"
"I beg your pardon, Sir Callium, but… Arianna! What shall I do with her?" the healer asked a bit too insensibly.
"Who?"
"The girl, Callium! The peasant girl!" The old man insisted hastily.
The Captain waved his hand with irritation, "Oh, by gods! She's yours! Do with her what you will!"
"But Callium—"
Copper eyes blazing as the knight walked towards the opening of the tent he said, "I have no time for such idle prattle, old man! We'll talk about the girl when I return. But I believe this conversation has now concluded, Grêth. I must go. Dawn will break soon, and we must ride before the first beam shines."
Without waiting for a reply, the knight disappeared behind the rustling of the flaps, leaving the old man to ponder this unanticipated situation.
The dawn that came was a dark and dismal one. Heavy thunderous rain clouds loomed over the campsite just a few moments after the Captain had informed his men of the task they had yet to complete, the tower they still had to defend and the homes they were longing to run to but would not see till they had gained victory. The men were downcast and sullen and the weather had not eased their gloom.
The sound of rain splattering on the armor and shields of the knights and soldiers rattled through the air. The ones who were to be left behind and who would indeed have the fortune of returning home at last, prepared to bid a formal farewell of these brave honorable warriors who have yet to march to war once more.
The armored knights preceded the other soldiers, all were on horseback, and the Captain was at the head of them all. His head held high as rain trickled down his dripping russet beard bearing his shield with determination and fierce pride. The Sword of Criastus hung in its sheath by his side and the Shield rested on his back.
Those remaining bowed on one knee, while others saluted the warriors with long swords raised upward.
As the troop rode solemnly past all the tents, the Captain paused awhile on the very last one where just outside an old man and a young girl shrouded with a long rough garment stood to bid their farewell.
Their heads were bowed as the Captain rode passed and as he pulled the reins of his steed to halt, he looked down at Grêth, "May Criastus be merciful to you and lead you home safely in his divine protection."
"We shall pray unceasingly for your sure victory at Groidoin, Sir Callium. The gods light your path, Villoi!" the healer answered formally to the knight.
"Villoi hindai" Sir Callium replied and he cast a small glance to the silent lanky creature whose face was bent to the ground. The cloth that covered her head though could not hide completely the fading scars and bruises that shone on her face. A few sopping strands of dull scarlet hair were plastered to her wet face. Her frail body shook as a sudden gust of cold biting wind blew by. Her pale white hands were trembling. She then turned her head upwards to him, revealing a set of light brown eyes slightly tinged with a brush of amber, filled with an almost childlike innocence and fear.
Shaking his head mournfully the knight thought. Such an unfortunate girl to have come out not only alone and orphaned from a barbaric country but she had to suffered such a great ordeal for one so young. It was a pity she's not looking at all well, I might have considered taking her under my wing but I believe she'll be better off with Grêth.
Then giving a noble nod of his head to the old man and his companion, Sir Callium shouted virtuously, "We ride for battle! Groidoin calls for our aid! Forth! Onward!"
The Wrǖth battle horn resounded through the pounding rain and the shining silver knight in his metal armor, clasping his shield to his chest reared his great horse boldly and then galloped onwards. The handful of men who were his army followed after their Captain, thundering past the onlookers till they disappeared behind the trees of the forest and were no longer in sight as the rhythms of their steeds faded into the distance.
Arianna sat quiet and still inside the tent listening to the patter of the rain upon the tent. Her hair still as damp as it was since she had come inside. The camp seemed almost deserted after the army had left and the only sounds Arianna could hear of besides the rain were the gay croaking of the rainforest frogs rejoicing the downpour outside their muddy homes. Then, the image of the Captain came into her mind. That was the very first time she had seen him since he had rescued her from Vasdenin. She had been woken up by Grêth at dawn with only the short reason of having to bid the Captain farewell for he was going off to another battle. Arianna did not question at all and merely allowed herself to be draped in that heavy cloak and taken outside in the cold wet weather. She remembered seeing the Captain's horse approach and she glanced up for a little while. But quickly looked down for fear of staring straight into his eyes, the closer he drew, the more powerful and superior his aura emanated. She felt goose bumps crawl up from underneath her eyes and she kept her head down as low as possible as she listened to him converse with her Master. Then, thinking they were finished she lifted her head and saw the Captain was gazing down at her as well though when their eyes met, he looked immediately away and then rode off.
He must have been repulsed with my very appearance, Arianna thought to herself.
Then, the sound of someone approaching broke her train of thoughts and she looked towards the entrance of the tent as the drenched grey head of her Master slipped in hurriedly. But her eyes were instantaneously directed to the large creature perched on his shoulder, ruffling its soaked feathers; a creature she too hadn't seen since the rescue.
"A silver falcon…" she breathed aloud in her own tongue, forgetting she wasn't supposed to be speaking it anymore.
But her Master simply smiled as if he hadn't noticed and replied, "Arianna, this is Paladin, my longest and most faithful companion in all my life. But I most warn you, he's not any ordinary silver falcon. He's exceptionally shrewd and very independent. I feel he only stays with me because he knows that I don't enjoy being a lonely old man."
Arianna moved in to have a closer look at the falcon, there was something strangely familiar about its very gleaming amber eyes, as if she had seen someone with those same eyes a very long time ago.
The flacon clipped his beak and seemed to make a very quick nod of its silver head as if acknowledging her.
"Well, well. It seems Paladin has taken a liking to you, Arianna. It's not with every stranger that Paladin behaves so amiably to. You must have quite a way with animals." Said the old man amusingly as the falcon flew towards a bundle of warm furs and settled in trying to dry off its still drenched feathers.
Arianna watched the falcon with curiosity, she knew those eyes, but where oh where had she seen them before?
"Arianna." The low voice of her Master called her and Arianna turned to face him.
"You better get some rest now, we'll be within the Western borders the day after tomorrow and we might reach Waldǖrth the day after that so it would not be long before we reach the Wrǖth castle in less than six days. Now, Arianna there's something important I must share with you. I couldn't ask your permission before because I believe I had no choice since you were on the brink of death but now I must. Once we have entered the Waldǖrth borders we won't be stopping to camp any more, instead we'd take shelter in the homes of our countrymen, do you somehow understand what I'm trying to tell you?"
Shaking her head, Arianna said, "No, Master."
Taking her hands, her Master looked her in the eyes and said, "I'm going to make you fall into a long and undisturbed sleep for the last step of our journey but it would only be temporary, when you wake up again we'd be in the safety of Wrǖth castle."
Snatching her hands away, Arianna blurted out, "But…why?"
Just when she was starting to look forward to seeing the sights and features as well as the people of this new country, her only opportunity of doing so was now impossible. Once again, she'd be detained behind the walls of sleep. No, she couldn't bear to let herself be deprived of such things.
Sighing, Grêth said truthfully, "Once we pass the border and into the abodes of the Western people, there's no telling what they might think when they see you. Our people were never very fond of your people. They, as I said before, thought of your land as a residence for sheltering and breeding criminals and outlaws and therefore it was called a barbaric and inhumane country."
"But! No true! No true! Vasdenin not barb-bb-aric!" Arianna stuttered hurtfully.
"I know that, Arianna. From what I've experienced in your company, I knew that you couldn't have been raised by that sort of kind. But, our people don't so it might take a while to convince them that Northerners are not the ruthless savages they are thought to be. Which is why I must keep you asleep, so no one could ask too many questions, for how can they question about a poor tired girl who just needs some rest and quiet? But it doesn't mean they'll be oblivious of your presence forever, when you are ready, I will present you to our people so you too may be treated as every other Waldǖrthian in this country. " replied Master Grêth.
Arianna weighed these thoughts in her mind, though she would much rather be awake, Arianna didn't want her Master to lie for her just to be rejected by these people, who Arianna must now become a part of, just to make them accept her.
So she nodded mournfully. Sighing, with a grim smile mixed with relief and empathy, the old man reached inside his robes and pulled out a small vial. He bade Arianna drink it and without hesitation, she gulped in the bitter fluid. In a few seconds, her visions blurred and she felt herself falling into a strange whirl of blackness as she closed her eyes.
