Eternal Knight

by Matt Heppe

  “I remember you,” Hadde said. “You took me to the king on the day I arrived.”

  “I'm surprised you remember me,” he said with no hint of humor. “You were in quite a state.”

  Hadde laughed. “Yes... I didn't expect to see the king that evening. But today I want to go for a ride. I'd like to see the city.”

  “But you must have an escort, Ambassador.”

  Hadde rubbed her face in frustration. “But I do.” She turned to the stable boy. “Puddle, right?”

  He smiled. “Yes, lady.”

  “There you are, Sir Palen. Puddle is my escort.”

  “That’s not acceptable. You must be properly escorted.”

  “Properly escorted?”

  “By a gentleman.”

  “Very well, Captain Palen.” Hadde sighed. “You may come as well.”

  He looked startled. “Me? I cannot, I’m Captain of the Gate this morning.” He paused. “Do you have the king’s permission to leave the Great Keep?”

  “I wasn’t aware I needed it. Am I a captive?”

  “I—”

  “Captain, it’s very cold out in this open courtyard and I would like to start my ride.”

  “One moment,” he said, and turned to one of the guards. “Fetch my horse. And inform Sir Gorwin that he commands the gate until I return.”

  “You could ride Quickstep,” Hadde offered as Palen turned back to her.

  “I…” He glanced at the little horse. “Thank you, but I’ll ride my own.” He mounted as soon as the guard brought the horse up. They started out the gate, Hadde and the captain in the lead, Puddle and Quickstep a few strides behind.

  “Where are we going?” Palen asked.

  “I don’t know.” She scanned the broad square lined with three story mansions of white plaster and dark timbers. “I wanted to exercise my horses and thought I would see the city while doing so. I thought an early ride would be best as fewer people would be out.” She directed Lightfoot down one of the three streets leading from the square.

  “Begging the ambassador’s pardon, but I was just about to be relieved of duty. I was going to break my fast and get some real rest.”

  Hadde held her temper in check. She hadn’t asked for his company. “I’m sorry, Captain,” she said. “I didn’t know. You can go back now. I’ll be fine.”

  “But you must be escorted.”

  “Captain Palen, you’re free to do as you wish. I demand nothing of you.” She examined one of the houses lining the street. A servant had just opened the shutters, revealing large glass-paned windows. Behind the windows hung heavy blue curtains decorated with gold thread. She glanced around and noticed that all of the homes surrounding the square were just as rich.

  “What’s wrong if I ride with Puddle? Isn’t it safe?”

  “It’s safe, especially at this time of day and in this quarter of the city. But it wouldn’t be proper. You’re an ambassador and a woman.”

  Hadde turned down a side street. She shook her head at the sheer size of the city. The entire population of Long Meadow could fit into a row of four or five houses. “Why do women need protection?”

  Palen stared at her. “Are you mocking me? You expect me to believe you don’t know the answer?”

  “But I don’t.”

  He snorted. “Bah, they need protection because they are fair and weak and must be protected from harm.”

  Hadde stopped trying to hide her anger. “I’m neither weak nor foolish, Captain. I don’t need protection. Did you know that I’ve been in a battle, that I’ve killed men and even varcolac?”

  It took a few moments for him to reply. “I don’t know the circumstances under which you accomplished those feats. But I do know that women are weak. It’s the way they were created.”

  They entered a new part of the city. The streets narrowed and the buildings weren’t as grand. Stores lined the street, each with a sign over the door depicting its wares. “How can you say women were created weak?”

  “Just look at the gods,” Palen replied. “Helna may have created the world, but what happened when her brothers arrived? They changed her creation as they wished, and what did she do to stop them? Nothing! She was powerless. Forsvar and Dromost were strong and she was weak.”

  “Her brothers fought and caused destruction. Wasn’t it Helna who created a perfect world before they arrived?”

  “Of course they fought. They fought to protect their charges. Just as men do today. Women produce new life while men fight to protect them.”

  As the sun rose above the rooftops, more people joined them on the streets. Hadde and her companions entered an alleyway of cobblers. The foot traffic moved aside as the riders approached, but otherwise they were ignored.

  “Captain Palen, was it not Helna who banished the gods from earth? Didn’t she compel Forsvar and Dromost to leave with her?”

  “They saw what the war was doing to their followers. All three gods left on their own accord.”

  “That’s not the way I learned it.” Hadde spotted the river through a gap in the buildings. Turning right, they rode downhill toward the water. Buildings with cracked and crumbling facades lined the street. Piles of refuse lay in front of many of them. It reminded her of the manor where she and Belor had been attacked. She shook off the memory. Poor Belor, she thought. How much she missed him.

  She sighed as she stared down the street. So much poverty so close to so much wealth. Why did they stand for it? They rode several hundred more strides when Hadde halted. A wretchedly clothed woman, bent nearly double and with her arms clutched across her body, shuffled past.

  “Let’s not tarry here,” Palen said.

  “Wait a moment.” Hadde reached into her saddle bag and pulled out her bread and cheese. She dismounted and jogged up to the old woman. The woman's eyes widened in fear and she shied back as Hadde approached.

  “Please, take these,” Hadde said, offering the food. The woman snatched the food from Hadde’s hands and tucked it under her shawl. “Thank you, Lady,” she said, glancing warily up and down the street.

  “I wish I had more for you.”

  “More than I’ve had in days.” The old woman shuffled off.

  As Hadde remounted, Palen said, “What did you do that for? It will do no good.”

  “No good? She’s starving.”

  “And you changed that?”

  “For now.”

  “Maybe not.” Palen nodded in the direction of the old lady. Three gaunt youths kept pace with her as she shuffled her way up the street. One shot Hadde an angry glare. The glance was cold and pitiless.

  “They’re up to no good,” Hadde said, motioning toward the boys.

  “And what would you have me do?”

  “Protect her.”

  “You’d have me escort every old hag in the city?”

  “If you won’t help her, I will.”

  As she turned Lightfoot toward the trio, Palen reached out and grabbed her arm. “No, I’ll do it,” he said.

  Hadde wrenched her arm free and charged the boys. They scattered with a shout. Two scurried down an alley. The third dashed across the street and into an abandoned building. The woman huddled against the wall in fear.

  “A lot of good that will do,” Palen said as Hadde rejoined him. “Come, let’s return to the keep.”

  “We’ll take her with us,” Hadde said. She turned to look for the woman, but she had disappeared. The activity had caught the attention of nearby pedestrians. They stared at the riders, and more often than not the looks were unfriendly. “Why are they so angry?” Hadde asked.

  “They forget their place. They think it unfair that they’re common.”

  “It isn’t?”

  “Hardly. They don’t realize how hard it is to be noble. They don’t understand the pressure or the responsibility.”

  She shook her head and turned to Puddle. “Do you agree with the captain?”

  The stable boy looked at her in surprise. “What ma’am?
” His face reddened. “I’m sorry, but I wasn’t listnin’.”

  Hadde sighed. “Puddle, do you think it’s right that the nobles live in fine houses and eat good food while the poor are cold and hungry?”

  The boy glanced at the knight and then at Hadde. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you think it’s fair the nobles live so much better than everyone else?”

  “But they’re nobles.”

  Hadde frowned at the ragged boy. He obviously didn’t understand. “Puddle, would you rather live like a noble?”

  “But I’m a stable boy.”

  “But would you not rather be a noble? A squire or a knight?”

  “Ambassador, Hadde,” Palen interrupted, “he knows his place. It’s the way things are supposed to be.”

  Hadde sighed and looked away in frustration. Down the street a mass of people walked in their direction. At the front of the group marched a dozen men cloaked in white, most with hoods pulled over their heads. They appeared somehow familiar to her. After a moment it came to her. Returnists.

  The crowd included men, women, and children. All wore something white, even if it was as small as a white scrap of cloth tied around an arm. The mass slowly made its way toward the riders. The leaders chanted as they walked, but Hadde couldn’t make out the words.

  “We should get out of the way.” Hadde said. The three horses took up much of the street.

  “Only if we wish. If we choose to stay they will have to find another street.”

  “But there are only three of us.”

  “And they’re commoners. I’ll not make way for them unless it pleases me.”

  Hadde took in the size of the approaching crowd and felt a tinge of fear. “There are so many of them. I think we should move aside.”

  “Are you afraid?” Palen scoffed. “There is nothing to fear from them. They're just returning from their morning rituals down by the river.” Turning to the crowd he shouted, “Hello Returnists, have another Gathering did we?”

  The white-cloaked men in the front ranks stopped and the crowd halted behind them.

  “The day is near, my lord!” the foremost of them called. “Join us so that the scales will be tipped in favor of righteousness.”

  Cries of “The Orb returns!” came from the crowd.

  “Join you?” Palen asked. “Put on a white cloak and walk the streets?”

  “Cast off the mantle of your rank. Cast off privilege. Desire is the root of evil! ‘Depart from worldly desire and the Orb will come.’ So said the Messenger.”

  “The Orb returns!” the crowd shouted.

  “Join you?” Palen laughed. “Become a shoeless beggar and the Orb of Creation shall return?” He laughed again and turned his horse from the crowd. He opened his mouth to say something to Hadde when a voice called out, “Down with him! Down with the nobles!”

  Palen’s sword swept from its sheath as his horse wheeled into the crowd. “Who said that?”

  “The nobles are Dromost’s servants!” yelled another.

  “You!” Palen pointed his sword at the man. “How dare you curse your superior?”

  The Returnist spat at Palen.

  “No! No!” the white-clad leader bellowed. “Be at peace! Anger brings anger!” His words were too late. Palen’s sword flashed as he brought the flat of his blade down across the back of the Returnist. An angry roar went up from the crowd.

  Someone leaped up and grabbed Palen’s arm. Others pulled at his horse’s bridle.

  “No! Stop!” Hadde shouted and urged Lightfoot into the crowd. She reeled in pain as a chunk of ice hit her in the chest. Snowballs, ice, and rocks soon pelted both her and Lightfoot.

  Hadde looked on helplessly as the rioters pulled the surprised Palen from his saddle. The Returnist leader grabbed Lightfoot’s bridle and forced her back from the crowd. “Ride off!” he cried. “Flee!”

  The crowd surged toward Hadde and Puddle. The leader turned and tried to hold them back, yelling over his shoulder, “Ride! Ride from here!”

  “Go, Puddle! Run away!” Hadde shouted. As he rode off Hadde put her heels to Lightfoot’s flanks and drove the little horse into the crowd. Men grabbed at her, but she kicked them away. She searched for Palen in the masses. His horse bucked and ran through the crowd.

  A bloody staff rose and fell ahead of her. The crowd fell back from the ferocious blows, revealing Palen on the ground. His helm had been pulled from his head and blood matted his hair. “Die, noble, die!” The man screamed over and over as he rained blows upon the knight’s corpse. Hadde turned away from the awful sight.

  She tried to turn Lightfoot, but a Returnist had grabbed her bridle. Hadde drew her hunting knife and, leaning forward, slashed at the man. He fell back with a cry, clutching at a long gash in his arm. Lightfoot reared up and kicked another Returnist.

  Shouting, Hadde slashed at those nearest her. They fell back, and she charged through the gap. Lightfoot raced up the street, the mob close behind her. Puddle was just ahead. A large cart blocked the way before him. Desperately, she searched for an escape and spotted an alley to their left. “This way!”

  The few people in the alley leaped aside as they galloped past and onto a broader boulevard beyond. Hadde pulled Lightfoot in as Puddle stopped next to her. Red clad Knights of the House rode uphill toward them.

  Pointing in the other direction, she said to Puddle, “Ride for the keep. Tell the captain of the guard what happened.” The boy didn’t need any more urging as he raced off on Windwalker, Quickstep in tow.

  Hadde rode to the oncoming knights, blocking their path. They halted as she approached.

  “What are you doing?” their leader demanded as she stopped in front of them.

  “Sir Palen has been attacked. One street over.” Hadde waved her arm in the direction of the attack.

  “What are you talking about? Attacked? By whom?”

  “A mob of Returnists. They pulled him from his horse.”

  “Captain, up there,” a knight said. The Returnist mob poured from the alley Hadde had just left. They didn’t pause, but immediately started in the direction of Hadde and the knights.

  “Draw swords!” the captain ordered.

  In unison a dozen swords sang from their scabbards.

  The sight of the drawn blades caused the front ranks of the mob to pause. From behind them stones and rubbish flew at the knights. Hadde dodged a rock hurled at her head.

  “Move to the rear,” the captain ordered her. As soon as she was past, he ordered, “Escort, four abreast! Forward! As the dozen knights rode by, Hadde realized they weren’t alone. Duke Giula of Arossa sat nervously on his horse, craning his head to see what was happening. Four knights remained with him.

  “Ambassador, what’s going on?” he asked. A tremendous shout prevented any response. Hadde watched as the knights plowed into the mass. Blades plunged and rose, blood-stained. It looked as if the knights would put the crowd to rout until more Returnists emerged from a second alleyway. Hadde, Giula, and his escorts were cut off.

  For a moment the Returnists seemed not to know what to make of the situation. Then someone cried out, “The Orb returns! Slay the nobles!” Hadde watched, dumbfounded, as the unarmed horde attacked the knights.

  Giula’s escort charged, abandoning the two of them. “We must escape!” Hadde yelled.

  Giula just stared at the carnage ahead.

  “Duke! We must go!”

  Knights hacked down at the masses around them. But as each Returnist fell, another took his place. A knight was pulled from his saddle. Hadde grabbed Giula’s arm. The knights would soon be overwhelmed. “Now! We must ride now!”

  He stared at her and nodded. Before he could move, a stone struck him in the side of the head. His eyes flew wide in pain and surprise. Hadde pulled him across Lightfoot’s saddle before he could fall to the street.

  Hadde kicked her heels and Lightfoot sprang away from the onrushing crowd. The little horse struggled under the weight of two riders, bu
t managed to evade the closest pursuers. They rode downhill. Below them lay the river. No escape there. Hadde knew she had to make her way uphill to the safety of the Great Keep.

  The sounds of battle diminished behind her as she rode. She entered a wide avenue, but panicked when it turned downhill. She saw the docks ahead of her. She turned right and rode on for a time, and then halted. She was lost. Giula lay still across Lightfoot’s saddle.

  Dilapidated buildings filled this section of the city. Many had collapsed. The few people she saw looked at her with suspicion. She listened for the sound of fighting but heard nothing. She took a deep breath. If she kept riding it was likely she would run into the mob again. She looked for the three bridges that spanned the river, but couldn’t see any from the narrow street.

  A shout from behind startled her. Without looking, she put her heels to Lightfoot’s flanks.

  ***

  Her hands clenched to keep them from shaking, Hadde slowly advanced to where King Boradin sat staring at her from his throne. She glanced at the others in the Great Hall. Orlos the Spiridus, looking pale and wrapped in heavy blankets, sat on a chair to the king’s right. The queen lounged on her throne to the king’s left. To her left stood Morin. A dozen nobles gathered at the base of the dais.

  “Ambassador, I wish to thank you for saving Duke Giula of Arossa. It would have done great harm had he fallen.”

  “I wish I could have saved more, Your Majesty.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Hadde recounted the story of the ride, the street fight, and of finding her way back to the Great Keep. The king nodded as she spoke, his expression tight. The others watched her in silence.

  “The Returnist leader tried to stop the crowd, but failed?” Orlos asked in a frail voice when she finished. He seemed much weaker than when she had last seen him.

  “Yes.”

  “Such behavior isn’t like them,” Boradin said. “They have always been peaceful.” He drummed his fingers on Forsvar’s gold rim. “Ambassador, you’re forbidden from leaving the Great Keep. I don’t wish to lose you or your Spiridus Token. Sir Palen shouldn't have allowed you to leave.”