by K. Dzr
Chapter Twenty-Eight
G O O D B Y E
In the months following the battle, Destiny remained at her father’s bed side. The kingdom’s best doctors were summoned, each trying his best remedies, to no avail. Over and over, Destiny pleaded with Demetrius, “If any magic can heal him, use it.” But Demetrius knew it was not his place to heal the dying, and that he could only postpone the inevitable. History must run its course and no mortal could live forever. Destiny understood, but watching her father suffer for so long was excruciating.
Tahir remembered watching his father become sick when he was young. He knew how hard it was. He knew the number of days Destiny had left with her father were few. His mother was never quite the same after his father died. The sadness and loneliness overwhelmed her, overwhelmed them both. Watching the toll his father’s death took on his mother was even more difficult than watching his father slowly waste away. He knew he couldn’t save King Robert, but he would do everything in his power to keep Destiny from slipping into the shadows of desolation as his mother did.
He sat in the large window, his usual spot, looking out over the landscape. In these warm months, the heavy drapery was removed so King Robert could get the benefit of fresh air and sunlight. This seemed to lighten his spirits, even if only a little. Being a prisoner to his own bed seemed to be killing him as fast as the pneumonia.
“Go, fetch the scribe,” King Robert commanded his servant. His breathing was short, interrupted by fits of dry coughing. As the servant obediently left the room, Robert dragged himself up in his bed.
“Destiny,” his shaky hand reached out to caress her face. His thumb—not so accidentally—smudged her body paint. “Forgive me for making you wear this. I was only concerned for your safety.”
“I understand that, Father.”
“Remove it, and let me see your wings; not since you were a babe have I seen them.”
She dipped a cloth into the basin and wiped the paint from her face. Tahir leapt from the windowsill to help her remove the cape that constrained her wings; they stretched at least the length of a man. When she slid the veil from her head, her dark purple locks fell. Tahir lost his breath.
“I don’t know how you kept yourself hidden for so long. You are beautiful, just like your mother. Thank God you take your looks from her.” His laugh sent pain spiking through his chest and set off another fit of wracking coughs.
“You are a most handsome man. I would be honored to carry your resemblance,” she squeezed his hand.
“You have always been a good daughter; always my favoured child. Here to sit by my side in illness and to rejoice with me in good fortune.” He shifted his eyes to Tahir. “My sword and robe, Tahir.”
Destiny helped him to his feet and Tahir fetched his effects. Even with their help, the King had to pause for breath as he dressed in his robe and girdle. The servant returned with the scribe, Alexander and Demetrius in tow. He nodded to the two wizards as they entered.
“Good, you should be here to bear witness. Tahir,” he turned his attention to the young man standing before him. “For many years now you have been a loyal servant to my kingdom. You have guarded my castle walls, tended my stables, defended my villages, defeated an evil wizard and won the heart of my fairest daughter. Many nights I have stayed awake, wondering what will happen to her when I am gone, who will take care of her; I no longer have that worry. For this, I am especially grateful. All of these things you have done before becoming a knight, yet this is why you came to my country. I will deny your wish no longer. Take a knee, Tahir.”
Tahir’s enlarged eyes shifted between Destiny and King Robert with disbelief. Destiny had to gesture with her head for him to kneel before he shakily dropped to one knee before the King.
“By your loyalty, bravery and skill with sword and bow, you have earned the name: Sir Tahir al-Din.” He tapped Tahir on each shoulder with his sword. “As husband to my daughter, you have become my son; both titles I give you proudly. I only wish I could have attended your wedding, not being able to give my daughter away has been one of my greatest regrets. Rise, Sir Tahir. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Sire.” his face beamed with joy and pride.
“Go now.” The King returned to his bed. “The day is yours; halt your mourning, for I am not dead yet. Go. Celebrate; have a banquet. I will pray to regain strength, that I might join you.”
Word traveled quickly of Tahir’s accolade with mixed reaction. Fear and hostility toward the moors continued growing, but in dreary times, cause for celebration was always welcomed. Besides, Tahir was not like the other knights and squires. While the view that ‘might makes right’ was held by many of the knights, Tahir took genuine interest in the problems of the peasants and townspeople he often guarded. Within the castle walls, among his peers, he may not have held a position of respect, but today they slapped his back and praised his good fortune.
For the first time since Francis’ return, Tahir walked through the castle with his head held high. With Destiny on his arm, her features once again hidden under her costume, they half walked half skipped to their forest camp to share the fantastic news with Oraden, Meelix and Ellic.
As was custom, Tahir suited up in his armor and demonstrated his skill, along with the other knights before the nobles and townspeople alike as a banquet was being prepared.
Although she was saddened by the empty seat where her father would normally sit to watch such events, Destiny shared her husband’s joy. The crowd applauded as Tahir and Oraden jousted and exhibited their skills in various martial games.
She couldn’t stop smiling as she watched them. Meelix cheered them on, jumping up and down on the handrail in front of her. He too wore his armor and carried his small sword so he would feel that he was officially part of the action. Ellic stood on her hind legs with her front claws digging into the rails and roared with joy for her friends’ accomplishments.
Tahir was by far the most majestic knight in the courtyard; so handsome and powerful in his elegant crimson cape and the black armor with polished bronze accents. He carried the silk scarf Destiny had once given him as a reward for helping her when he used to guard the castle. She knew he needed no prize, but she wanted him to have it. It seemed only yesterday that this man walked into her life and changed everything. Tied to the hilt of his scimitar; the scarf waved like a flag as he proudly swung the sword over his head. Oraden’s horn glowed brightly as he cantered, moving with speed and grace that deer would envy. Gavin felt the pride of a father as he watched his former students parade with glee before the kingdom of his dearest friend.
Francis considered the knighting of Tahir an outrage. Surely in his illness his father had lost his mind. He wanted no part in such a foolish celebration. He knew it unwise to confront them; he bided his time, allowing them some latitude until the kingdom would finally be his.
It wasn’t long before Francis got his wish. A few weeks later, King Robert died with his family and friends around him. He felt no pain; Demetrius saw to that. Unfortunately, Demetrius could do nothing for Destiny’s.
She cried unrelentingly. Her father, alone, she came to rely upon; he who knew her secret as a child and loved her despite of it. She disappeared into the woods, leaving Francis in charge of the funeral arrangements. Tahir followed her to her hiding place.
A few days later, the kingdom mourned the loss of one of its favorite rulers: Followed by the welcoming of a new king: King Francis. He promised wealth, protection from the Muslims invading from the south, from the Vikings to the north, and a world of change. For the most part, he was a man of his word.
