Eternal Knight

by Matt Heppe

  “Shut up!” Waltas hissed in her ear. “If you shout out again, I’ll kill you. And don’t think of telling him later. He won’t believe you—no one will believe you. You’re in Salador now.”

  She twisted and tried to throw the knight off. He struck her in the back of the head and pushed her face into the mud.

  “Earl Waltas,” a voice called out, “what....”

  Hadde saw Melas at the edge of her vision.

  “Get out of here, Squire. And keep your mouth shut. Be gone!” Melas stood frozen. Waltas thrust his fist at the squire. "Be gone." To Hadde’s horror Melas took a step back, and then turned and ran.

  She choked in anguish as he departed. “Back to work, eh, Hadde,” Waltas said. The pressure on her back eased as he shoved his trousers down over his hips. With all her strength Hadde bucked up and lunged forward, throwing Waltas off balance. Before she could break free he grasped her calf and yanked her down.

  Hadde screamed for help as his weight landed on top of her again. He hit her and her vision swirled. “Let’s make this easy. You know you want this. The way you dress. The way you act. Prancing around half-naked.”

  He forced her legs apart.

  She twisted sideways and then bucked hard in the opposite direction. “Damn it!” he gasped. “Just take it and it will be over. We’ll both get what we want!” Gasping, Hadde twisted her body and tried to duck her head from another blow. She felt herself weakening and knew she couldn’t take much more.

  Suddenly Waltas’s weight was pulled from atop her. Hadde found herself jerked sideways as Waltas fell into the stream. Nidon towered over Waltas. The king’s champion smashed a huge fist into the earl’s face, driving him under the water. The knight reached down, grasped Waltas’s tunic collar, and pulled his head up.

  Before Nidon could react, Hadde leapt past him and locked her hands around Waltas’s throat. Her momentum tore Waltas from Nidon's grasp as she shoved his head back underwater. He struggled under her but couldn't find any purchase on the streambed.

  Hadde screamed in rage as Nidon pulled her from Waltas. She kicked and twisted as she tried to free herself, but the knight was too powerful. "Stop," he said in her ear. His voice was calm, but strong. "Stop, Hadde, I'll take care of this. I'll take care of him."

  He put her down on the rock by her clothes. Hadde grabbed the hilt of her knife, but Nidon's hand clamped down on her wrist. "Don't."

  She stared at him, her anger making it impossible for her to speak. She was dimly aware of pounding footsteps as Melas ran up to them, sword in hand.

  “You were in my charge and I failed you," Nidon said. "I’ve dishonored myself. This is my responsibility now. Let go of the knife."

  Hadde looked past him as Waltas, choking and gasping got to his knees. Blood poured from his smashed nose. "You promise?" Hadde asked. "He'll be punished?"

  "I promise." As he said the words, some of the rage went out of her and she let go of her knife.

  “Dromost take you, Nidon!” Waltas sputtered. “Striking me when I wasn’t ready.”

  “Give me your sword, Squire,” Nidon commanded. Taking it, he strode toward Waltas.

  The earl’s eyes widened as the champion approached. He tried to get up, but the trousers around his knees tripped him. He fell backwards into the water. “You don’t dare! Murder an earl for screwing a common whore?”

  Nidon stood over him with the sword half raised. “She’s under my protection, you bastard. I named her an ambassador.”

  “I wasn’t going to kill her. She can still see the king.”

  “It is your good luck you have an audience with His Majesty.”

  Waltas brightened. “That’s right,” he said. “I must see the king.”

  “You promised, Sir Nidon,” Hadde said. “You said he'd pay.”

  Nidon kept his eyes on the earl. “He will. But he'll face justice before the king. Pull up your trousers, Earl Waltas, and come with me. Squire, stay with Hadde and make certain she remains unharmed.”

  As they departed Hadde reentered the stream and scrubbed the mud from her body. Melas stood facing the woods, his back to her. Hadde thought of Belor and wished he were still with her. None of this would have happened. But he was gone and she had no one to trust but herself. She wouldn’t be caught at unawares again.

  When she was done washing she stepped from the stream and sat down on the rock. “Why didn’t you help me, Melas?”

  “I… couldn’t.” He still faced away from her.

  “Why? You saw I needed help.”

  “It isn’t that easy.” He remained with his back to her. His voice was quiet. “He’s an earl. I’m only a squire.”

  “How does that matter?” she pulled her shirt over her head. Her tunic was soaked and she wrung it out.

  “I’m sorry. It matters… a squire cannot…. I’m sorry; I didn’t know what to do. I ran for Nidon.”

  She pulled on her breechcloth and leggings. “The next time you come upon such a situation, you do what Nidon did. You help!”

  He flinched at her anger.

  She picked up her belongings and strode past the squire. She heard him following close behind as she made her way to the camp.

  “Where is he?” Hadde asked Nidon as she approached the fire.

  “He’s gone.”

  “Gone? You let him go?” Hadde shouted. “How could you?”

  “I sent him to the king. Justice will be served.”

  “No it won't!” Her anger boiled over. “He'll ride home and never be seen from again.”

  “I made him swear on it. He will go to Sal-Oras. If he doesn't he will lose everything. It will mean a death warrant for him. It will mean disgrace and dishonor for his entire family. He will see justice before the king.”

  Chapter Nine

  “The horses can't take much more of this, Sir Nidon. The rain is turning to ice,” Hadde said.

  “Not long now,” he replied. “We'll be there well before nightfall. And Squire Melas will have prepared them for us.”

  She was glad that Melas had been sent ahead. At least Quickstep and Windwalker would be spared the soaking. Both Lightfoot and Nidon’s mount, Thunder, were mud spattered and wretched looking.

  Hadde pulled her heavy cloak closer about her as they passed though yet another village. Not a day passed that they didn't come across another village or town. Now that they were close to Sal-Oras, it was as if one village just blended into another. There were no wild lands any more, just one village's fields blending into another's.

  But for all the people and all the towns, she still saw the Wasting all around them. Many of the cottages they passed were dark, and those that were inhabited all seemed to have fallen into disrepair. The cattle and sheep dotting the fields forlornly scrabbled at the few patches of weeds. The animals themselves were thin and many appeared sick.

  "There, Hadde," Nidon said as they passed over a low ridge. She followed his outstretched arm and spied a river two arrowflights distant, and further on through the gloom and freezing rain, the massive walls of Sal-Oras.

  Pulling the hood of her cloak back, she said, “I never imagined anything so huge. Even in my dreams. I’ve seen the spiridus city of Belavil, but it’s in ruins. This is….” She couldn’t think what to say.

  “Home,” Nidon said, “and rest.”

  She caught movement to her left and was surprised to see a boat outracing them upstream. It seemed a hundred oars drove the boat forward. The river itself was over an arrowflight wide, more water than Hadde had ever imagined.

  "That boat," Hadde asked, "are there many like it?"

  "A trading vessel from Idoria. Yes, there are many, but not so many as in years past."

  As they rode closer Hadde saw that Sal-Oras sat on both banks of the river, although it seemed the larger half sat on the higher ground to the north. Two great towers sat in the river guarding the river entrance to the city. Just beyond them she saw a huge stone bridge linking the two banks.

  Hadd
e glanced away from the city to find Nidon had ridden off without her. She tapped Lightfoot's flanks and quickly caught up to him. “An army could never take this city,” she said as they approached the walls.

  “It's been breached before,” Nidon said over his shoulder. “Many times. In fact the entire South Bank has been taken. At one point in the War for the Orb, the entire city but for the Great Keep fell.”

  Huge blocks of stone, perfectly set, rose twenty strides above them. The ramparts seemed utterly unassailable. “How could anyone get past these walls?”

  “Ladders, rolling towers, trebuchets, rams, mining… they have all been used.” The road ran almost under the walls as they neared the gatehouse. A few footweary travelers walked the road ahead of them, heavy bundles on their backs. "Look there—and there. Hadde followed where Nidon pointed and saw the scars of ancient battles. In one place red bricks patched a five stride section of wall near its base. In another area the entire wall had been replaced with stones much smaller and rougher than the original.

  "I was once in a battle," Hadde said. "When we lost the plains to the Kiremi. There were five hundred Landomeri riders, and as many archers on foot. I'd never seen so many people in one place. But this... how many soldiers did it take to storm these walls?"

  "Thousands. But battles of that size haven't been fought in ages."

  A dozen knights rode from the gate ahead. Each carried a lance with a red banner and bore the same device as Melas, crossed lightning bolts on a red field. The travelers on the road scattered as the knights approached.

  "Our welcome," Nidon said.

  The knights clattered to a halt. One rode closer. “Who are you that ride armed before the gates of Sal-Oras?” he demanded.

  “I am Nidon, Champion of the Realm.”

  “Well met, Sir Nidon. I recognize you, and you may pass.” He nudged his horse next to Nidon’s. “It’s good to see you, friend.”

  Nidon shook his hand. “And you as well, Gorwin. Shall we get out of the cold?”

  “The sooner the better. The king awaits your return.” The knight gave Hadde an appraising look. "So you are our Landomeri visitor. Squire Melas had much to say of you."

  "I...," Hadde started, but Gorwin had already turned his mount away. Nidon waved Hadde to follow as they rode through the massive gates. The tunnel beyond seemed a maw swallowing the two knights. Pushing down her fear, Hadde followed. Behind her rode the knights of Gorwin's escort, their horses’ hoofbeats echoing off the walls and pounding against her. The tunnel seemed to close in on her. Would she ever pass through them again? She felt like a trapped animal.

  A gust of wind-driven snow greeted them as they rode from the tunnel and onto a broad avenue. Tall stone houses rose on either side of the road. It was barely less oppressive than the tunnel. At least she could feel the snow on her face and see the cloudy sky above her.

  Narrow alleys branched from the main road. Bundled pedestrians trudged along on either side of the street, paying no heed to the knights other than getting out of their path. In a few arrowflights they passed many times the population of Long Meadow. But despite the numbers, the city had an air of emptiness, as if even this many people couldn’t fill its vast spaces.

  The citizens, most with ragged cloaks pulled close about them, shuffled along as close to the buildings as they could manage. The faces Hadde saw were pale and gaunt. A loud crack caused her to turn and stare at a small group walking past in a file. All wore white robes and walked with eyes downcast. As she watched they flailed short, stout ropes across their own backs. She flinched at the harsh sound. For a time she could only stare, finally saying, “Sir Nidon, who are they? Why are they whipping themselves?”

  “Returnists.” He barely gave the column a glance as the knights rode past.

  “What are Returnists?”

  “They believe in the imminent return of the Orb of Creation.”

  “Really?” She turned and watched the marchers with renewed interest. “But the Orb of Creation was lost long ago.”

  Nidon shrugged. “Tell them that.”

  “Why are they whipping themselves?” She had to turn away as she caught sight of the bloody stripes on their white garments.

  “They punish themselves for their sins. They think moral purity will cause the Orb to return.”

  “Will it?”

  “You’re asking the wrong person.”

  Ahead Hadde saw a tower looming, standing guard over the bridge. Guards saluted as the party passed through the tower. They emerged onto the bridge only to be assailed by a vicious wind. No longer protected by the high buildings of the city, the full force of the storm drove them toward the edge of the bridge. Heavy snow whipped around them, so much she could barely see the water roiling below.

  They passed through another tower and back into the city proper. A steeper hill led them toward a citadel cloaked in snow. Here was the Great Keep of Sal-Oras—the goal of her entire journey. Here she would find the Elementar King of Salador and salvation for her people.

  The road emptied into a broad square surrounded by grand three-story houses. Across the square awaited the keep’s massive gates. Hadde felt a moment’s trepidation, but the knights didn’t slow their pace as they rode under the portcullis and into a wide courtyard.

  Walls even higher than those guarding the city surrounded the open space. Opposite the entrance stood the keep itself—several smaller gates set into it. Above the gates stood ranks of windows, and higher up, balconies.

  The knights dismounted in unison leaving Hadde the only person still mounted. Squires and servants rushed up to take the knights’ shields and lances while grooms saw to the horses. The escorting knights hurried up to Nidon and clapped him on the shoulder and asked for news.

  Hadde bundled her cloak closer about her, the hood sheltering her face from the heavy snow. She patted Lightfoot's neck and thought of Belor—wishing he were with her.

  “May I take your horses, sir?” a young voice asked.

  Hadde glanced down to see a boy looking up at her. She didn’t know what to say.

  “May I take…” he started again and then stopped. “My apologies, madam. May I take your horse, my lady?”

  She looked to Nidon for help, but he was talking with his companions. “Where are you taking her?”

  “To the stables, lady.”

  “I’ll take care of her,” she replied as she dismounted.

  The boy frowned.

  “No, Hadde,” Nidon said, rescuing her. “Let the groom take her. Lightfoot will be well cared for.”

  “What about my gear?”

  “Everything will be sent to your chambers. Page!” he called out. A boy, younger than the groom, rushed to Nidon and bent to one knee in the thin layer of wet snow.

  “This is Hadde of Landomere. See that she’s taken to her chamber.”

  Hadde watched as the groom led Lightfoot away. Everything she needed to survive was on the horses.

  “Lady, may I take you into the keep?” the page politely asked.

  She ignored him and jogged after her horses. “Wait,” she called out to the groom. “Stop!”

  He turned and halted. “How may I help the lady?”

  “I need a few things.” She pulled her bowcase, arrow bag, and pack from Lightfoot’s saddle.

  “They will be sent to your chamber, lady,” the groom objected.

  “I’ll take them,” she said with an apologetic smile.

  He dipped his head slightly, bowing and led the horses through a gate.

  “I’m ready now,” Hadde said to the page.

  She knew they thought her behavior odd, but she couldn’t help it. She was alone in a strange land and there were only a few things that gave her a sense of security. Her small pack, her bow, and arrows. She had survived many weeks alone in the forest of Landomere with only them. And she wouldn’t let the Saladorans catch her unarmed.

  “In what chamber are you staying, lady?”

  “I… I’ve n
o idea.”

  He paused for a moment, looking around the courtyard. “I know whom to ask,” he said as he led her through a heavy door and into the keep. Taking a lantern, he led her up a short flight of stairs, and into a windowless hallway.

  Feeling lost and alone, Hadde followed the boy into the castle. The weight of the massive stone structure seemed to bear down upon her. She paused, brushing the snow from her shoulders, resisting the urge to run back outside. The boy, noticing she had fallen behind, turned and gaped at her Landomeri clothing. Hadde pulled her cloak closed.

  "Please follow," he said, leading her higher into the keep. Hadde prided herself on her sense of direction, but soon became lost in the twists and turns of the keep. They entered a wide hall and the boy called out, "Mistress!" to a sour-faced woman in a fine blue dress. The woman waited for them to approach. “Mistress,” he continued, “I’m to take this lady to her chamber, but don’t know where to go.”

  “I am awaiting the arrival of a foreign lady.” The woman said. Her narrow eyes looked Hadde up and down with open disapproval. She frowned at Hadde’s baggage. “You’re the Lady Hadde of Landomere? There must be some mistake.”

  “I’m Hadde.”

  “You speak Saladoran?”

  “I speak my mother tongue. I know it as Landomeri.”

  “You speak with the accent of the court, but your attire…”

  “It has been a long journey.” Hadde said. She clutched her pack tighter. Even Saladoran women wouldn’t treat her with any kindness.

  “Of course," the woman sniffed, rolling her eyes. “My name is Lady Celena, and I keep the Maidens in Waiting in my charge. Follow me.” She dismissed the boy with a wave of her hand and strode down the gloomy candle-lit hall. “I'm taking you to the Maiden Hall,” Celena announced, over her shoulder. “Young ladies of noble birth are sent here to be educated in the ways of the court. They also attend to the needs of the greater ladies. Why you have been sent here, I have no idea."

  They had not gone far when Celena stopped at an open door guarded by two armored men. Hadde peered down a long hallway. Doors lined both sides. “My chamber is the first on the right." Celena said. "I’ll have a maiden show you to your room. She will attend you for the duration of your stay. There are always two squires on duty here. They are never to leave their post. They are also forbidden from entering the Maiden Hall," she added with a glare at the two men.