by Travis Bughi
They rode with an aura of power. The men had trimmed heads and shaved chins, which made them stand out. While nearly all men grew out a beard or mustache of some kind, the knights carried their shaved skin, which to Emily seemed to be a symbol of their status. The two female knights in the group had their hair cut like Emily’s, just long enough to rest on the shoulders.
All the knights had their heads raised up and their eyes forward, looking over the crowd. An air of superiority hung about them and rained down on the crowds. Their confidence was almost tangible. It seeped from their raised chins, their straight stature, and their unflinching eyes. It was mesmerizing and slightly hypnotizing. For a moment, Emily forgot to step back. As the crowd moved to allow the knights to pass, Emily faltered and continued to stare, but the man who had been shouting for people to ‘make way’ made quick work of her forgetfulness.
“Back! Make way for the Knights of Lucifan!” he yelled and made eye contact with Emily.
Emily blinked and turned to the man she hadn’t noticed until now. He was a short man with thick eyebrows walking on foot in front of the knights. He was not one of them, judging by his tunic and trousers, but the look on his face told Emily he took his work seriously. The man shooed people out of the way as he walked in front of the knights, yelling with the authority he clearly felt he possessed. Emily obliged him and stepped back, but she continued to gaze at the amazing knights, the warriors of the angels, the guardians of Lucifan. The crowd shifted again to make way, and out of that movement, Nicholas appeared.
He, like Emily, hadn’t moved back with the crowd. He stood solid and stared, mouth wide open in awe. The feelings of wonder were apparent on his face. His eyes were wide, despite the glare of the sun, which reflected off the knights’ polished armor. The crowd moved back once more, leaving Nicholas further exposed to the short, yelling man. He eyed Nicholas and shouted at him, but Nicholas was not listening. The boy had been struck by wonder and continued to stare unabashed.
“I said back!” the short man pulled back a hand to strike him.
“No!” Emily shouted.
She leaped out from the crowd, and her voice surprised the man who turned and watched as a young woman, almost of age, ran to the boy’s side and shielded him with her body. He seemed confused for a moment, but when he saw the resemblance between the two, he immediately understood her outbreak.
At first, he seemed to take pity on them, but then duty took hold, and he decided a lesson needed to be taught.
“Get back now!” he yelled and lifted a hand to strike the two down.
Emily closed her eyes and turned her head to shield the blow.
“Doles!” a commanding voice shouted.
The crowd’s constant chatter hushed to a murmur, and Emily risked a glance through one squinted eye.
“That is not how you treat a lady,” the new voice said again.
One of the knights circled around from behind the others and cantered over to the scene. His sudden break from formation had stirred the attention of all, but the knight seemed entirely unaware of all the eyes that followed him.
“My apologies, Sir Gavin,” Doles said, lowering his hand and standing at attention. “I just thought I would teach these two a lesson in manners.”
The knight simply nodded and looked down from his pegasus at the two farmers. Emily looked up at the knight, and felt her heart skip a beat.
He looked so unlike the other knights. Gavin was young for one—perhaps only a year older than Abraham—and so hadn’t lost his charm to the years of hard service written on the faces of the older knights he accompanied. His blonde hair had yet to be trimmed down, and it swept the top of his ears as he bent low to peer at Emily and her brother with a soft gaze and unscarred face. He had stubble on his chin, a broad smile accentuated perfectly by his chiseled chin, and light green eyes. It took Emily a moment to realize she’d stopped breathing.
He was, in a word, handsome.
“Are you alright, Miss?” the knight asked.
Emily blinked and lost her voice. Gavin looked concerned, and Emily had to shake her head slightly to regain her composure.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, and then added, “Thank you, Sir Gavin.”
Doles scowled, but no one took notice or seemed surprised.
“Are you really a knight?” Nicholas spoke up with a meek voice.
Gavin chuckled and leaned back in his saddle.
“Yes, I am. But you can call me Sir Gavin Shaw.”
“Emily! Nicholas!”
It was Abraham who’d shouted, and Emily turned to see her older brother fighting to push his way through the crowd. He was taller than most, but the circle about the knights had tightened as people hunched forward to see what was happening. Emily realized how incredibly quiet it was. All eyes had turned to watch the scene as it unfolded, and Emily suddenly felt her cheeks burning red at all the attention.
From behind Gavin, one of the other knights gave a deep grunt. Emily glanced around her handsome savior to see that one of the older knights—this one with a deep scar that ran from his ear to his chin—was breaking his cold stare to give Gavin an impatient glance. Gavin took note and turned quickly to Emily. His expression of concern changed to one of urgency and regret.
“I’m very sorry, Miss, but we must be on our way,” he said hastily.
If there was a hierarchy of authority amongst knights, then Gavin was apparently overstepping his boundaries. Emily nodded, and Gavin reluctantly turned to take up his former position. Then, a thought suddenly dawned on Emily.
“Sir Gavin?”
Gavin turned, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you headed east?” she asked.
Chapter 8
In short time, the knights resumed their march, and Doles was back to doing what he did best: ordering people to move out of the way. The knights followed behind him at a casual pace with their oldest members in front and their youngest, Sir Gavin Shaw and Sir Duncan Macalister, taking up the rear. Then, following right behind them were Emily, Abe, Nicholas, and whoever else was smart enough to use the knights as a wedge toward their location.
Gavin had been quick to introduce his friend, Duncan, and Emily guessed the two to be of a similar age. She smiled courteously, but the smile Duncan returned seemed more of a grimace to her. Unlike his friend, Duncan was cleanly shaven like the other knights and had a head of black, curly hair barely a finger’s width in length. His nose was wide and his ears a tad large, but what Emily noticed most was how rigidly Duncan sat in his saddle. The wooden boards nailed to the side of her house had more flexibility than this young knight.
This was certainly in stark contrast to Gavin, who leaned back and turned to Emily and her brothers often. He had a habit of speaking with one hand, too—always taking it off his pegasus’ reins to add emphasis to his words.
“You’ll have to excuse Doles,” Gavin said soon into the march. “He’s used to dealing with ogres giving him trouble, and I’m afraid he’s growing colder by the day. I’ll talk to him about this, I swear it.”
“Gavin, please,” Duncan whispered and shot his friend an accusing glance. “You’re already in enough trouble, I’m sure. Can you be quiet? Do you want to be demoted? You’re lucky Sir Mark isn’t here.”
“You’ll need to relax if you’re going to show any chivalry to our guests,” Gavin replied and gestured with a hand back towards the Stouts.
Duncan gave Gavin’s gesture a disapproving glance, as if the knights were not supposed to move from their authoritative positions. Gavin grinned back, and Emily found herself having trouble trying to piece together all the little silent arguments the two were having through looks alone. A moment later, Duncan sighed and turned his head back to Emily and her brothers.
“I’m terribly sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that knights do not normally intervene in civil disputes.”
He was, of course, referring to Doles’ attempted attack and Gavin’s succe
ssful intervention. Emily resisted the urge to scoff, nodding instead.
“And hitting people is what you would call civil?” she asked.
Duncan’s jaw clenched, and a hint of embarrassment and surprise passed through his eyes. He looked sidelong at Gavin, who in turn flashed Emily an approving smile.
“Well, uh,” Duncan stumbled.
Gavin chuckled and slapped Duncan’s back, his metal gauntlet striking Duncan’s shield loud enough to ring across the crowds. The movement appeared a grand gesture given that Gavin was still the only knight to have moved in his saddle at all, and Duncan stared aghast at his friend while a few of the other knights turned back to give both of them a frown. Gavin shrugged apologetically and then chuckled quietly. It seemed he enjoyed riding in the back of the formation because it allowed him to do as he pleased. Poor Duncan was his only witness, sworn to suffer alongside him by some form of brotherhood.
They had only been walking for a little bit, but the going was fast. The crowd parted as Doles shouted, and the Stouts followed behind the knights, never needing to pause in their strides. Shaw looked ahead and then back to Emily.
“You still have not told me your name, my lady.”
Emily blushed, realizing she had forgotten her manners.
“Sorry, Sir Gavin,” she said. “My name is Emily Stout.”
Gavin took in the name as if it were a scent, breathing deeply the supposed fragrance that her name would possess.
“Miss Emily Stout,” he repeated. “What a lovely name.”
She smiled and tried to hide it with a hand. She knew Sir Gavin was flattering her, but she could not help but enjoy it thoroughly. She realized that Shaw had taken no effort to be formal with her brothers, but she rather liked the special treatment. It had an interesting way of making her feel as if she was above those around her, which made her feel guilty for enjoying it all. Abraham, on the other hand, looked about ready to start a fistfight with the knight.
“That’s my sister,” he said, then added, “Sir Gavin.”
Emily blushed red and, for the first time in her life, wished her brothers were not nearby. She resisted the urge to give Abe a shove, not wanting him to turn and berate her in front of this handsome knight. Fortunately, rebellious though Gavin seemed, he bowed his head low to Abe in a sign of respect.
“Of course,” he said. “I meant no intrusion, my good fellow. I was only doing what every man should: speak his mind.”
Gavin flashed another award-winning smile, and Emily melted in those eyes until she heard Duncan sigh long and heavy.
“You’re a hopeless romantic,” Duncan muttered.
“And you’re a bitter, married man,” Gavin replied.
“I’m not married. Who am I married to?”
“Rules and duty,” Gavin replied as if the answer were obvious. “And maybe Sir Mark, though I think to him you’re just a concubine.”
Duncan glared at his comrade, and Gavin laughed.
Emily laughed, too, and then suddenly noticed how quiet Nicholas was. She looked to her younger brother and found him still suffering from awe. His normally ceaseless chatter had been quelled in the shadow of these knights, sucking away his oblivious nature to make him unusually shy. Emily grinned at her brother and decided it was best not to disturb this newfound peace and quiet. She had more questions for Gavin and did not need any more of her brothers’ interference.
“Sir Gavin?”
“Yes, Miss Emily.”
She blushed at all the formality. She’d never been called ‘Miss’ so many times in her life, let alone by a handsome Knight of Lucifan.
“Have you ever met the angels?”
“Of course,” he said. “One is only promoted to knighthood by the authority of the angels. We are their weapon in the battle to keep Lucifan peaceful.”
“And how does one become a knight?”
Gavin turned his head to catch her eye, and she felt her heart jump. He did not smile, though, and turned back.
“You must be invited. One cannot petition to join the order, only be formally invited to be tested.”
Emily’s heart sank a bit. She’d never considered being a knight, not any more than being a gunslinger or anything else that would take her far and wide, but the idea had recently intrigued her. Or perhaps that had been Sir Gavin’s charming smile. She blushed and sighed at herself, knowing she was swooning, yet unable to stem the tide. Sixteen years of hardly leaving her little farm and now here she was, talking to a handsome knight in shining armor. Could anyone blame her?
“Then, if I may ask, how were you invited to join the knights?” she said.
This time, when Gavin looked back, he smiled before answering.
“Most people seeking to join the knights know of someone who can recommend them. Others, however, are witnessed participating in acts of sheer bravery and selflessness. I, unlike Sir Duncan Macalister, was not one of the individuals who knew someone.”
Emily watched Duncan shake his head ever so slightly. He seemed annoyed rather than insulted, and this appeared to have been Gavin’s goal. He turned back and grinned again at Emily.
She smiled back.
“So what act were you witnessed participating in, Sir Gavin?” Emily asked.
“I’m sorry, Miss Emily, but we will not have enough time for me to tell you that story. It is a good tale, and I wish to do it justice.”
Emily nodded and was only slightly saddened by the denial of a good story. She wondered what act Gavin had performed. What constituted an act of sheer bravery and selflessness in Lucifan? Had he captured a criminal or saved a life? Her mind wandered to extremes, picturing him sheltering an angel from an army of ogres or giving away barrels of food to starving children, yet still she thought her imagination too limited. She decided that if they ever met again, she would hear the tale in its entirety, and she would most certainly try and meet him again.
“Sir Gavin,” Duncan whispered.
Once he had Gavin’s attention, Duncan tilted his chin out toward something ahead. Gavin looked, arching up in his seat, and then slouched with a sigh.
“I am very sorry, Miss Emily,” Gavin said, “but I’m afraid the harbor is ahead. Wasn’t that your destination?”
“Yes, it was,” Emily nodded.
“Well, our destination is elsewhere. This is as far as we can escort you.”
As if to illustrate this, the formation of knights began to turn south around a corner, ever lead by Doles’ shouting voice. The right turn was far too soon, Emily thought, and she felt her window of time with Gavin closing. The Stouts stopped to watch them leave, and the crowd began to fill in around them. Emily scrambled for something to say.
“I hope to see you again!” she shouted.
“As do I, Miss Emily,” Gavin responded over the well of voices filling in between them. “As do I.”
Emily and her brothers continued to stare until the knights rode out of sight. Around them, the crowds of people had fully closed in on the open space. They were pressed in close again, and now that the knights were moving on, Nicholas once again found his voice.
“Emily’s got a boyfriend! Emily’s got a boyfriend!” he shouted and teased.
“Oh, grow up,” she said and then started walking towards the ocean.
* * *
They reached the harbor shortly thereafter. Together, they walked out across the docks, sat on the wooden planks, and kicked their feet out over the water. Around them, people unloaded cargo from ships that came and went, dragging heavy carts that clacked noisily along the docks. There was just as much shouting here as there was in the streets, only now it was combined with the creak of wood and rope and the slap of ocean waves.
In a way, Emily thought as she gazed across the bay, the ocean seemed a lot like the Great Plains. It was a vast field of empty, rolling waves, which were occasionally disrupted by an isolated dot—on the plains a farmhouse or barn, here a ship. The difference being that the waves on the plains were yell
ow rather than blue, and they neither moved nor crashed upon the shores. Yet the noises were similar. There was the whisper of wind, the rustle of water (or grass on the plains), and the creak of wood. The similarities shocked her for a moment, but then became familiar, and she relaxed. Her eyes looked out across the ocean—at these things called ‘ships’—and began to wonder where they all came from. There were so many amazing things in Lucifan, so much she’d never heard of, and they all came from somewhere aboard these ships. Vividly, Emily began to understand just how full of wonder the world beyond the sea was, and she wished to see it with her own eyes. Of course, she’d just as willingly go north to the mountains, west to the forest, or south to the jungle. She just wanted to explore.
At what point does a desire become a need?
Emily contemplated this as the waves crashed beneath her and the smell of saltwater filled her nostrils and tickled her throat. Just like at home, she imagined for the hundredth time what it would be like to explore the world. She had wanted to see the city, and now she had. As it turned out, her older brother’s tales had paled in comparison to the actual sight of everything. Rather than quench her thirst, visiting Lucifan had only deepened her wanderlust.
She realized she could look at this ocean all day.
“Wow,” Nicholas said.
Emily nodded in agreement.
“It’s big, huh?” Abe said, smiling.
The three Stouts kicked and swung their feet over the edge of the docks and continued to stare out at the ocean. The vastness of it sucked up their attention, and barely a word was passed between them. Abraham let his siblings take in the wondrous sight of ships entering the harbor and huge crates being unloaded from ships. Emily watched one large crate being hoisted by a pulley and ropes onto the docks. There it was broken apart, and its contents turned out to be a load of scales from some creature Emily did not know. The scales were an arm’s length in width and were stacked into a nearby cart. She asked Abe what they were, but he didn’t notice. Emily contemplated yelling her question to the men working away, but changed her mind. Abe let his siblings watch the cart being hauled off into the city before he stood back up and brushed himself off.
