Legends From a Jumbled Man

by Michael Hudson

  “Yeah…” His eyes went wide as he began to realize what he had said, and shook his head. “Wait, sir, I promise, protecting and expanding our country is also importa-” He only stopped because his senior held a hand up for silence.

  Hilward’s cigarette was now out, and a sigh left him as he let the butt fall to the ground. “Boy, stop. That… that isn’t enough. If it was, it wouldn’t so easily leave you bitter, angry, or without anything. Such is the power of tragedy and death. So boy, please, for your sake, make her your priority, and the family I hope you two have some day.”

  Now it was Willaim’s turn to cry, and he did not try to hide it. Instead, he smiled, bright and true, and stood to his feet. A click came from his heels as they came together, his back perfectly straight, and he raised one hand forward, keeping it straight as a knife, and pointing it towards the sky. “Yes sir!”

  The old man let a smile break over his features as he stood, and returned the salute. “For Germany and the Fuerher!”

  William smiled. “For our Fuerher, and family!”

  Author’s Note

  Written on the same day as the next story in this, After the Fight was mostly just a random idea that came to my mind about the consequences of war, and what it is possibly like for the soldiers and commanders after a large fight. They know there will be another, but now their friends are gone, and their minds may wander.

  It’s a rough time to be in, no matter who you are, which is why, right at the end, I decided to make them German, or, more specifically, WW2 German soldiers. This is because it’s easy to forget that many of them were fighting for home and country, merely listening to orders as they tried to do what they thought was best for their land and families. They weren’t all just Nazis, which I think is an invaluable thing to remember.

  A Dream To Help

  Sarah blinked as she looked at the top of the hill. There she saw a man that towered over most others, a practical giant, but not a stranger. No, instead it was the man she looked up to. She shifted the makeshift, wooden sword at her side, as if it were in a scabbard, and began marching up the grassy knoll.

  “Hello, Sir Garrif! What brings you out to the forest today? Are there bad men coming to bring harm to the village?”

  The man turned around, his chainmail shimmering in the noonday sun, as well as his sweat soaked, short, black hair. He wore the same, somber expression he always had before, but today… Today, something was different. His eyes were red, and his shoulders sagged, two things that were very odd for a village’s mighty hero. Sarah frowned, but continued along the path, certain she was just seeing things.

  As she came close, she heard the deep, normally booming voice of Garrif come out, but now it cracked and was low, almost low enough for her not to hear it. But she did, and it asked her, “Will you please leave? I wish to be alone today… as I am each year.”

  This only confused Sarah more though. Why would he always be alone today? The town loved him, and if he wanted company, they could all come out and have a giant picnic. In fact, if this was always a somber day for him, they could instead make it a day of celebration; so as to make this a day of joy! “Why would you wish to be alone?”

  “Because it’s…” Garrif looked to his side, and finally seemed to actually notice the small girl beside him. His eyes widened in panic, and he turned away from her. “None of your business. It’s merely something I must do as a hero.”

  Sarah put her hands on her hips, and scowled. “No, a hero must protect and bring joy. Like this, I bet even I could push you over, and you’re definitely not bringing me joy. Just watch!” She planted a foot into the ground, and pushed against the man who was almost four times her height. To say the least, it wasn’t very effective.

  It did get Garrif’s attention though, and brought a tear to the old warrior’s eyes. With a raised hand, he hesitated. One good push could make her tumble down the hill, and, as there were no large rocks in the clearing, she would be fine and he would be alone. Before he could though, she giggled, and he saw a flash of white come across her face, and felt his strength fail.

  “Child, do you know how old I am?”

  Sarah blinked, before pushing against him to help her stand up straight before blowing a few, stray, blonde hairs away. “No. All I know is that you’re old, and maybe even ancient.” She then laughed, remembering times when he would joke with the other geezers in town about how he could still cream any of them. She got no such response now though, but instead saw a drop of water come down before her. Looking up, she saw something that she didn’t even know was possible.

  Garrif was crying.

  “Garrif? I-I didn’t mean it, I promise. You’re still plenty strong enough, even if you’re older than my dad. In fact, I bet you could sock him real good if you really wanted to!”

  Not even that got him to stop the few tears that were coming down his face, but he did reach out to ruffle her hair. He then pushed her head back, and looked into her dazzling, blue eyes; just like Andrew’s. His other hand clutched at his chest, and he turned away. “Tell me, child, would… would you like to hear why I’m crying?”

  Sarah hesitated. She of course did want to know, but there was a part of her that was now afraid. What if it was some dark secret, and she was about to be sacrificed to a demon, or he was terminally ill? Was she about to find out that the town needed a new guardian? Well, actually, that one wouldn’t be too bad, because than she would have a chance! As she threw up a fist in celebration, she realized just what that meant, and let out a small yelp.

  Garrif raised an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”

  She spent another minute thinking about it before putting her fist in front of her and saying, “Yes!” She was ready. Whatever deep secret to the business he had, she wanted to know, because it would make her better. How couldn’t it? He was one of the best knights in the world aftera-

  “I am a liar, and killed the best man I’ve ever known while people cheered my name for it.”

  Sarah’s heart may as well have stopped with how sudden her emotions shifted, and she found herself even clutching at her still chest. “Wh-what?”

  Garrif let out a long, deep sigh and looked out to the horizon. “It’ll be easier to understand what I mean if I start at the beginning, and, when I say that, I mean back to my own childhood, when I was your age. You see, back then, I had a bestfriend named Andrew. He never had parents, not while I knew him at least. Neither did he have a roof that held sturdy over his head, and definitely no friends until myself. At least, that’s what everyone told me, as they feared the gypsy orphan. Everytime I saw him running about the town, doing whatever sort of work he could find though, he confused me, as I confuse you now, and it was for a rather simple reason.’

  ‘He smiled.”

  “This would be something I always saw from him. No matter what life threw at him, or how the weather was, if you walked up to him and asked him how he was, he would give you the most sincere smile I’ve ever seen and tell you that he was happy. Not just happy, but overjoyed, and hoped you found the same joy in life. As a child, and even now as a man, I still never know where he found the strength. When I asked him, he said it was because of his parents, who had told him the importance of one’s life, but that that was as far as he could go with the secret of his family, at least, for the moment. Once I told him a sincere wish, he could tell me everything.”

  “This, of course, led to me asking him what his dream was, and that summer, he told me that he wanted to do what others thought was impossible of a gypsy. He wanted to see the world smile like he did, and, if he couldn’t do that, he would still help it, in anyway he could, even if it killed him.”

  Sarah frowned, before putting a hand onto Garrif’s leg. “Sir, what… what does this have to do with what you said earlier? This doesn’t sound like a reason to cry, but a reason to proud! I mean, where is Andrew now?”

  Garrif simply looked her in the eyes, before patting the dirt beside him. “Please, littl
e one-”

  “My name is Sarah.”

  A small growl came from deep in the old man’s chest as he scowled. “I am trying to tell you something very near and dear to me. This… this isn’t a tale I’ve ever told anyone else, so please, show it the respect it, and Andrew, deserves. Alright?”

  Sarah pouted for a moment, before looking down, and away from his gaze. She then sat down beside him and nodded. Garrif nodded in return, and looked back to the horizon. “After he told me that, I kept trying to say I had a dream. One day, I wanted to be a baker, the next, a gardener. None of them would get him to tell me why he could keep smiling, but they did give us time to form a strong friendship, and for three years, we were inseparable. The town even called us the thief and the giant, as even then, I was so much taller than my peers, and especially Andrew. He never minded though, and made me get over the teasing by making sure I knew how mighty giants could be.”

  “But then, just as the guards said they wanted me to join them, Andrew said he needed to go. He believed he had done what he could, for now, and that the winds were calling him elsewhere. It hurt like hell to see him go, but he forced me to smile as he walked away. With his back turned to me though, I told him I had a new dream: to help him with his. It was the first time I ever saw him stop dead in his tracks, and saw him cry as he told me that he dreamt the same, and called me his best friend.”

  Sarah swallowed hard, remembering all the times the boys would tease her about swinging her stupid little sword, and how sometimes, it started to get so hard to fight those mean comments. “He… he does sound like a p-pretty nice guy.”

  Garrif nodded, and felt a tear fall from his face. “He was, and five years later, as we both entered our twenties, almost fifty years ago, Andrew came back to the town, and back to me. During the time, I had been… lost. They wanted me to be a guard, a warrior, someone that could do what I looked like I should. He must have come earlier than when I saw him though, because by the time I saw him, Andrew knew what had been going on, and thought he had an idea. And, if it worked, it would make both of our dreams come true.”

  “He said that I would ‘fight’ him, and, using all the skills he had learned while away, he would be believed to be… Kinrac.”

  Sarah gasped as her eyes opened wide. Everybody in the town knew about Kinrac: The Bandit Lord. In fact, for the first year of his time as the town’s hero, Kinrac could only be stopped by the might of… “Wait, so-”

  “All of the tales between me and Kinrac; a lie.”

  “Bu-but, he harassed the town, with fifty men, who only stood at bay because they knew they could never face the might of Garrif. You would catch his arrows in your bare hands, and only through trickery did it take you a year to.. No.”

  Garrif looked down, the tears falling free from his face now. “I told him no of course, but he knew how the town had been. The guards were incompetent, and they needed a hero to believe in, so he would put on the greatest performance of his life to get rid of the fear that the villagers had. It would finally let him truly, and purely, help, which made me be on board with it. We planned and practiced our tricks and schemes so that when he came each month, we could convince everyone that they were safe, and I was as strong as they thought. That I was a hero.”

  Sarah stood up and put her hands on his arm. “Stop! I don’t wanna be right! Being right means-”

  “Then, after a year, I messed up. I placed a barrel that I was to throw at him next to the blacksmith, but because of my strength, I didn’t notice the metal blades that had been put in there in the morning. Or, at least, I didn’t notice until-”

  “Shut up!”

  “-already had three of the knives going into his back.”

  Sarah said nothing, but merely looked at Garrif as he turned to her. Both now openly wept, and he put her small hand into his. “When I got to him, I started to panic, b-but Andrew wouldn’t let the performance die. If I yelled, we would be discovered, so he covered my mouth, yelled about how he should have known not to be a thief, and then… And then he thanked me for making his dream come true, before dying in my arms, with that same, stupid grin as always.”

  Sarah punched the thick muscles of the warrior’s arm, her eyes shut tight as she screamed, “Why? Why did… Why? You’re supposed to be a hero! You’re supposed to help the good people, not… not-”

  Garrif brought an arm around her, and took in a shuddering breath. “As I said, I… I am a liar and a murderer. I have never called myself a hero, except to make the people I protected feel better. I-In fact, it took him passing on for me to decide to become a real knight. To train, get better, and… and to do him right. To help others, like he always had wanted.”

  Sarah slowly pushed away from him, shaking as she looked up. Now she could see the age on Garrif’s face, the pain and toll that this had taken out of him over the years. A secret he could never tell, for it would undo all his friend had sacrificed for. At least, so long as Garrif was still all the people could rally behind...

  “Train me.”

  Garrif looked up, confused. “What?”

  “Train me!” Sarah picked up her wooden sword from the grass, and held it between them. “I-If you want to make it up to him, th-then be a real knight, and make sure that when you get too old, there’s still someone here to help them. T-to make them smile, even when times are tough, please!”

  Garrif stopped for a few moments, before, for the first time in a long time, he smiled for real. “For Andrew, I… I would be honored to, but under one condition.”

  Sarah looked up, and set her jaw. “For Andrew, anything.”

  ======+++++======

  Sarah looked upon the crowd, her heart beating in her ears. It had been almost twenty years since that day on the hill, but now she found herself back. This time though, she was on a stage, ready to read a eulogy for the man resting in the fine wooden box before her. Finally, she would be able to put to rest the promise she had made long ago, even if it was with a heavy heart.

  For a moment, she glanced to the side and saw the princess, whose champion she was, give her a nod, and a smile. Sarah smiled back, feeling a warmth flood her chest. She had faced many beasts in her time as a knight, so, why should she be afraid of this? Determined, she smiled wide, and turned to the crowd before her. The whole village must have come out to see her, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she merely began.

  “Welcome, everyone, and thank you for coming to honor this great man. He put his life on the line hundreds of times, all to make sure we could sleep at night. I got the honor of calling him master, and, at one point, a friend… but that brings me to what he wants me to talk about. What he asked me to talk about when he died.”

  “Today, I would like to tell you all about his friend, Andrew, so that we may honor two great men. I only hope that his tale inspires you, like it did me.”

  Author’s Note

  This one was the big one for the day when I wrote this and “After the Fight”, despite it having been written second I believe. I had been sitting in a Sam’s Club food court, something I often did back then, and still having an itch after writing “After the Fight”. I still wanted to do more with this theme of things not being what they seem, like in the end of previous tale, and I wanted to tackle the beliefs of heroes and thieves.

  So, I began this. The little girl being as cute as she was was an accident, but otherwise, it was an idea I had together in almost an instant. Is it the most original? I won’t claim it to be, but I think it’s good that this sort of story come out from time to time. It’s not even for cynicism, to me at least, as while it is about the disillusionment of heroes, it’s about the good that those lies can still do, and what the truth afterwards can lead to. Many of the stories we’re inspired by are false after all, but they have always led people to do more than we ever thought possible because of the dreams they inspired.

  Though, like in this next one, do remember to be careful about just how much bravado you take from suc
h stories before you lose your head.

  Protecting What Is Most Important

  Kreg walked up to the castle, gritting his teeth as he took it in. The black spires, the towering walls, and the ornate gate of the castle were not simply sights to him, but instead challenges.Things he would need to fight through in order to accomplish his goals. And yet, when he looked down, he saw the letter that brought him to this place, inviting him to come slay the king that he despised. “This can’t be so simple.”

  “Hello sir! Are you by any chance Kreg Matheren?”

  He looked down to the smaller girl that was standing before him. She was in a fairly plain maid’s outfit, at least, from what he had expected of a rapist and a torturer’s servant. Instead of any large skirts or fancy trim, she only wore a black blouse and breeches that covered her legs. She did not even have what the mayor of his home village demanded of his servants, what with her small chest that was outlined by the fabric. It was odd to him indeed. “I am. Who might you be?”

  She shook her head, before looking away. “My name does not matter. What matters is that you are here, and that I am to take you within so that your attempt on my lord’s life may begin.”

  Kreg narrowed his eyes, his hand twitching towards the longsword at his side. His heavy platemail creaked in response, and he could hear the leather joints stretch as he curled his fingers into a fist. The girl’s attitude towards his arrival was entirely wrong. He was the hero, the one that would free the land, not someone to be mocked and given a lack of trials by his opponent.

  The the sound of the guardsmen outside of the gates gripping their own weapons and shuffling about entered his ears, and Kreg took a deep, calming breath in. If he attacked now, he would at least be tired, if not wounded before he could fight the king. He turned back to the maid, his suspicions not being helped by her coy smile. “How can I know this is not a trap?”

  The girl nodded, her blonde hair bouncing as she reached into a pocket and pulled out a blue, spherical orb. “This is from my master, as a show of good faith. It will protect you from all danger until he retrieves it from you in the throne room.”