A Knight Lost once found.

A Knight Lost once found. Closed for darkwarrioress57

Leyton, relaxed outside the blacksmiths forge, the heat rolling out of the building stifling even as fall set in. His face was creased with worry about the day, not for the blacksmith's charge to refinish his sword, but what this mission meant to him and his oath. Leyton was a knight in service to the King of Martellus, Heinrich VII. He had trained from the age 6, his family stripped from him by the plague, luckily, he was found by his mentor Sir Marcus the hedge knight. Sir Marcus trained him, taught him the hedge knights code. Defend the weak, stand for what is right, never take up arms for an unworthy cause. Around Leyton’s 16th birthday his Mentor was called to battle, the King was facing a great invasion and need all knights of the realm to answer the call. Leyton begged to come along, to prove that his training had not been for naught, but Marcus refused him and placed him in the charge of an old friend who had run an Inn that Marcus frequented. She tried to keep him busy, daily chores and an early bedtime. But as a boy he was glory hungry and ready to fight One night he sneaked through the inn and into the stables, he ran away, taking a horse and rode to the battlegrounds. The ride took most of the night and day, passing weary travelers and injured soldiers from the front, he started to be afraid that he had made the wrong decision. As he was about to turn for the inn, he passed a tent with a familiar horse tied outside of it. Marcus’s horse nuzzled him as he approached, a familiar scent in the hellscape of the front lines. Leyton, ducked his head as he entered the tent, he covered his mouth, the smell of blood and raw meat threatened to choke him. A woman was bent over his mentor, blood-soaked linens were thrown to one side, a bloody bowl of water beside her. She noticed him as he approached, she turned her dirty face streaked by tears.

“Boy, what are you doing here?”

Leyton struggled to speak, his words didn’t want to come, and a soft whimper escaped his lips. Marcus spoke up, his voice strained and hoarse.

“Leyton, what in the hell are you doing here? Why would you follow me, I left you where you would be safe?”

“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t stay there while you fought, I can wield my sword as well as most and I am able-bodied, I should have been beside you."

He moved to the woman’s side, anything that he could have said more was choked off from the sight of his mentor. He had been caught by a rider’s lance, the shaft broke off in his chest, bloodied and bruised his chest was a mixture of dark purple and sickly yellow bruises. Blood oozed thick and black from his wound. Looking toward the woman, his eyes pleaded for hope. He found none in return.

“Leyton, listen, go home. This battle is almost done, don’t sully yourself with this mess. Return to the Inn and enjoy your life, find a good woman and die old and next to a warm hearth.

Marcus groaned as Leyton hugged his neck, patting the back of the boy’s head Marcus said his goodbyes, as the battle claimed another casualty. The woman ushered him out of the tent, he looked at the line of people escaping the battle. The children crying for their parents, mothers sobbing for missing fathers and sons. He was moving before he could think, his hand ready to draw his blade he ran for the front line.


He was not prepared for the gore and the cries of men that he encountered, Martellus had been under siege from the north, violent raiders who were strong then two men and tore through horses like wolves. They could take spears and arrows and never fall, roaring like bears before felling their attackers. He could see them, charging the lines of knights and soldiers, their battle cries strong and fierce. He almost cried when his legs would not move, his hand on his drawn sword and his legs so wobbly that he could barely stand.

That’s when he first met Martellus, the king was just the lord commander at the time, but was already in line for the throne due to his arrangement at the behest of the King to the Princess. He strode his horse beside Leyton and looked down at the boy.

“Fearsome beast aren’t they? But don’t worry I have a plan, these will not last the night.”

At that moment the forest exploded with fire, screams and the sound of war horns filled the air as the knights charged.

“Come, boy, lest they are no spoils for us”

Leyton charged forward, leaving his boyhood, his mentor, and everything he knew behind him. From that point on he trained to be a royal guard, the entire time Martellus unaware of the effect he had on the man that boy became.

The blacksmith sat the reworked blade on the table in front of Leyton snapping him out of his stupor. He paid the man and headed toward the barracks. He was to meet a distasteful fellow, the king's tax collector. He normally hated to interact with the leeches that seemed to cling to the royalty and had only taken this charge due to some recent complaints from the common folk. Some of the peasantry had approached him and told him horrific tales of the king’s men terrorizing the outlying villages. He had dismissed them, they were peasants, but he had once been a poor boy and their pleas had buried inside his mind like a worm through an apple. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he might be missing something, and if anything would bring dishonor on his king he would deal with it. He had petitioned the Knight Commander to allow him to act as escort to the tax collector. Something told him if there was a problem money would be a quick way to find out what it was.

The man was waiting for him, a heavy-set man with almost no hair and the smell of wine radiating from him. Leyton had seen men like him before, no actual talent other than running their tongue up the ass of every wealthy landowner around. He obviously had a taste for the finer things, his robes were laden with golden tassels and toggles, even his wine smelt expensive, it was a shame he couldn’t hold his drink any further than his cup.

“Sir Leyton is that you, come boy let’s get on with it, we have many stops today and I only have a few bottles of wine left!”

Leyton sighed as he settled into his saddle.
“Aye it’s me, shall we go? I understand you have a few bodyguards we are to meet at the gates?”

“Yes, yes, those expensive toy soldiers, they are sanctioned by the king, but I HAVE TO PAY THEIR SALARIES! The audacity of it is appalling, the king has more than his fair share of coffers, he chuckled, I collected most of them.”

Leyton almost slapped the man there and then, already he could see this man had no character and had resigned himself to the mediocrity of his existence beguiled by the belief that he was important. They rode out, Leyton leading their way past the guards at the gates, stopping to meet the motley crew that made up the coin collector’s bodyguards. The two rode on sickly looking horses that were poorly groomed a fine match for their owners. Jim the thinner of the two looked as if he was missing half the teeth in his head. Simon had a face only a blind nun could love, the half of beard he sported on the right side of his face didn’t help either. Leyton wondered if it was something new and fashionable that he was unaware of or if his razor had broken mid-shave, given the shape of their gear that wouldn’t be surprising. They displayed their weapons without any concern for their upkeep. Their swords rusted, and their bowstrings flayed, Leyton knew these men were not the kind that the King should sponsor. Any man who couldn’t be bothered to keep up with his tools or himself was surely more interested in other than honorable things.

The man with half a beard, spoke first, throwing a dirty hand in the hair to hail the two as they approached.

“Hey, boss, who’s the choir boy?”

“I am Sir Leyton of the Royal Guard, you will remain respectful and preferably silent for the rest of our ride. Is that understood?”

The tax collector and the other man snickered and followed Leyton as Simon grumbled and found his place at the back of the group. The ride was long and Leyton escorted them through their route, stopping at every village, hamlet, and farm to collect the taxes. Some begged for more time, some simply cried as they handed over the coins, some offered their wives and daughters for a reprieve. He wondered if the ones who offered their loved ones had been taken up when he wasn’t there if so the rage that was building with every stop was going to find an outlet soon.

They stopped for a rest at a stream nearby the last village on the route. A gentle flow of water surrounded by large oaks and complete with a layer of soft grass to rest in. Leyton took the horses to the stream and waded them out into the water. The water was fresh and cool, he reached down and cupped his hands, taking a drink and letting the rest fall back. He felt bad for the horses, it was a grueling ride and the condition of the pairs horses was appalling. As the horses lowered their heads and the silt settled back, he could hear the bodyguards laughing and talking with the tax collector, they tried to whisper but the tax collectors wine had loosened their tongues.

“Hey, this is that one with the girl isn’t it? She lopped off half of Simon’s beard last time! I don’t think it was an improvement but not much could help that face.”

“Fuck you, Jim, you overfilled chamber pot”

The tax collectors greasy voice came next.

“Boys, Boys, we will get her, the King, his greatness, sent his knight in shining armor to protect us. Mr. Do it Right over there will gut her if she tries something.

Leyton found his hand clenched around the pommel of his sword, he was not some hired sword who was ready to cut down some soft woman, even if she had bested these fools that don’t mean she had any real ability. He rode his horse out of the creek, right past his three traveling companions.

“Get on your horses, I want to finish this and relieve myself of your presence.”
Simon spoke up.

“Oh boys, look at this, the knight done got his knickers in a knot.”

Before Jim could speak up, Simon was on his ass in the mud, Leyton's blow had come fast, catching him off guard and lifting him out of his saddle. Leyton used the pommel of his sword, Simon was a buffoon, but he hadn’t done anything bad enough to earn the other end, yet.

“Boy, know you're better, disrespect me again and I will make sure you spend a night in the cells. Consider this your last assignment, I will have your sponsorship revoked after this.”

Not giving them a chance to respond he rode on, a short time after he heard the sound of them catching up with him. They rode a short while longer before coming upon the village, Leyton didn’t need to get any closer to see that there was a problem. The town was out, everyone it seemed was in the town square waiting for them. He didn’t slow down, there wasn’t going to be any violence from either side while he was here. He rode his charger to the front of the mob and was joined by the money changer and the goons. Raising his hand in a peaceful gesture, he spoke clearly and calmly.

“I am Sir Leyton of the Royal Guard and representative of the King, what is the problem here?”

She hated the Crown and everything it stood for. Well. At least in these times. It wasn’t so much that she hated the idea of a monarchy, it was the greedy, lazy men who represented it. Every time the king needed money, it was his people he turned to. People, who were already trying to figure out how to stretch their last pence. It was bad enough he had forced the trade folk to raise their prices to help them meet their own taxation but this….this…. ugh! Cat flung her apple core as far from herself as she could. She clamored down from her perch where she had been standing watch. There was a cloud of dust on the horizon. That could only spell trouble. Her thick, red braid bounced on her back as her feet touched solid ground. She needed to find Nigel. He needed to be told. Deep in her gut she suspected something bad was about to happen to their small hamlet.

Fall leaves littered the forest floor, crunching under her small feet as she ran, weaving through tree trunks like a doe caught in a hunter’s sight. Cat only heard her own harsh breathing as she ran. Her eyes however, watched the flight of birds, scared from their hiding places as she ran. The air on this day was crisp. It hurt her lungs, but Cat never slowed not until she reached the blacksmith’s.

“Nigel,” she managed to gasp out as she skidded to a halt not far from the forge and the stocky, half bare man working inside, “Nigel, they…they…” she doubled over, slender hands on her knees.

The stocky, dark-haired man with concerned eyes, set down his hammer and started around his fire pit.

“Catherine, what ails you? What is going on?”

The red head lifted her eyes to glare at him. She inhaled deeply and stood upright abruptly.

“Your death if you call me that again,” she reminded him.

In order to maintain the peace so he could get to the bottom of the matter, he raised his hands in surrender.

“Peace, Mistress Cat. My brain is in a scramble. You come here at a dead run, yelling my name. What is a man to think but that there is trouble.”

She let that Mistress part slip by.

“I fear we are in for trouble, my friend. There is a large cloud of dust on the horizon. Men ride forth. I wager they are the King’s men once more. That lazy son of a slug probably needs more money. How are we going to give him more? As if any of us can afford to give him more. How do you bleed a turnip?”

Nigel put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“The same way we always do IF it is the King’s men.”

Cat gave a disparaging snort.

“In case you haven’t been paying attention, Nigel our coffer is getting rather low.”

“I know, Cat. I know. We’ll manage. Hey, where are you going now?”

Cat turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, an impish grin turning up the corners of her lips.

“Well, if it isn’t the King’s men then we’ll be able to fill our coffer again.”

“Cat! Come back here. Do not go getting in trouble. CAT! Come back now.”

It was too late. He might as well be talking to the wind. Nigel was torn between going after her and talking some sense into her thick skull or going to talk to the villagers. In the end, the villagers won out. Catherine Duprey could easily take care of herself and anyone else who came along.

Leyton’s horse was obviously nervous, the crowd’s energy was far from welcoming, they hadn’t done anything aggressive yet, but they had essentially blocked the entrance to the town. He wasn’t ready to push the line, he wasn’t sure they wouldn’t push back. He tightened his hold on the reigns, then laying them on the side of his horses’ neck directed the mount to the edge of the crowd. A small boy stood there looking scared and unsure of where and what to be. Smiling at the boy he handed the reigns down to him and dismounted.

“Hello boy, would you mind holding my horse for a moment, I don’t want him getting spooked, and a brave hand will steady him.”

Turning to face the crowd, he had to break into a sprint, Simon the damn fool had just pushed a large man backward. He barely had time to draw his sword and step between the man and Simon. His back to the crowd he glared at Simon. Leyton spoke through gritted teeth.

“Idiot, go back to your horse before, you get yourself killed.”

The man grumbled as he slunk off, clearly, his pride was wounded by being scolded in front of the crowd. Leyton turned to speak to the crowd to be greeted by the chest of the man Simon had started with.

“Hello Sir, I am Leyton of his majesties royal guard. I’ve been assigned as an escort to the royal tax collector. We have been traveling for most of the day. Can I ask why the town has gathered? Is there a celebration today?”

The man stared a few moments before speaking.

“There is no celebration, just a gathering of the concerned citizenry. Our coffers are light, and this new round of taxation pushes us toward starvation. The growing season is coming to an end, we don’t have any more time to grow new crops. We will need our coin just to ensure we make it through the winter”

Leyton stared at the man, listening to him, trying to think of somehow to diffuse the situation. He wouldn’t get the chance; a scream broke his concentration. Leyton cursed as he took off toward the sound. The crowd was moving, he could see his horse rearing and the boy moving out of the way. Another villager rushed to help to allow Leyton to worry less about the boy. His sword in one hand he rounded the crowds leading edge, they had started to surround the cause of the distress. A woman laid on the ground, her hands held above her a nasty slash across her arm, her red hair pulled into a braid behind her. Simon stood over her, a dagger in his hand, the edge stained the same color as the woman’s hair.

“SIMON!, WHAT IN THE GOOD SENSE ARE YOU DOING!”

Leyton roared, his anger overflowing, he grabbed the man by the shirt, shoving him to the ground.

“ANSWER ME DAMN YOU!”

Simon studdered, the fear in his voice betraying his appearance.

“I...I….I’m sorry, I thought she was someone else……..”

Jim pushed his way through the crowded, seeing the situation cussed as he turned to grab the tax collector.

“Will!, Will!, we need you.!”

The tax collector pushed his way through the crowd, finding some resistance and seemingly oblivious of the stares he was getting. He pulled a pouch from his side and empty its contents into his hand. He tossed the coins to the girl.

“Girl, you have been compensated by the King, keep your mouth shut and you won’t be charged with disturbing the peace. I would hate for Sir Leyton here to have to restrain you for transport back to the King’s dungeons."

The girl grabbed the coins and threw them at Simon. Her voice broke as the tears struggled to overtake her.

“I won’t take your damn money, this man attacked me for no reason!”

Leyton struggled to maintain his composure before he really thought about what it meant he reached his hand out to the woman.

“Ma’am, let's get you off the ground. It’s the place for swine, not beautiful women.” His words directed at Simon.

She glared at him, before accepting his hand, he pulled her to her feet as the blow came from his left.

“DAMN YOU, I AM NO SWINE”

Simon lunged, swinging the dagger toward Leyton’s face. Before Leyton could temper his steel he watched as the blade slashed the man across the chest, opening a gaping wound, the shock of what happened spread across both men’s faces as Simon fell to the ground.

“Leyton, my boy, what have you done….”

The tax collector ran, pushing his way through the crowd, but found his passage blocked. Over the murmur of the crowd, they could hear Jim yelling and cursing to be let go. Soon all three men found themselves surrounded by the townsfolk, pushed into a tight circle around Simon’s body. Leyton spoke first, trying to diffuse the situation before it got any worse.

“I Sir Leyton, a representative of the king and member of the royal guard, I judged this man, pointing to Simons body, to be guilty of malicious assault and attempted murder of a member of the guard. Before he could be questioned and trialed he chose a quick death. There will be no repercussions on the town. I will address the King myself and explain the situation. I do need something from you all, I need safe passage out of town for me and my companions.”

The crowd didn’t budge, the faces comprising it grim and serious. A man spoke up first.

“KNIGHT, if you are judging criminals ask your companions what happen last time they were here!”

Another voice joined them. Then another, till the entire town seemed to demand justice.

“Ask the fat one what happen when I couldn’t pay!” “Ask the skinny one what happen to my son when he said we couldn’t pay” “Ask them what happens when they demand extra coin!”

Leyton’s nerves started to fray, this situation was going from bad to worse, and he could see the path to a beating clearly. Even a trained knight couldn’t handle this many, and he wasn’t about to raise a sword at these villagers. He felt Jim’s spindly hands on his shoulder, he turned to see what the man wanted as he heard the crowd gasp. Will, the tax collector, had grabbed the young girl Simon had attacked. A knife pressed against her throat.

“Good people, I would suggest you let us through, I would hate to see us collect more than a few coins today.”

The dagger drove into her neck drawing a trickle of blood. The crowd parted, opening a path to the edge of town and the forest. Seeing no option that didn’t end in bloodshed, Leyton followed Will. He just hoped the town folk would let them through, so he could get the girl away from the tax collectors blade without worrying about casualties. Thankful for every step they took away from the mob, he passed the large man from before, and spoke quietly to him.

“Sir, I promise you I will return the girl, please do not follow us, I will deal with this. She will be safe at home before nightfall.”

They walked out of town, Leyton could feel the town’s stares on his back, he followed the two men for almost an hour before they decided to break. They were on the opposite bank from where they rested before.

“Will, release the girl, I will not condone this behavior. We got out of the village, no release her and let her go.”

“Leyton, you really are a stupid boy aren’t you, do you think I will release a delicious little strumpet like this. His greasy hand groped her as he spoke. I think I will collect my tax from her, before telling the King of the towns treason.”

“The town committed no treason! Simon sealed his fate when he attacked the girl and me.”

Jim yelled at this point, spittle flying from his mouth.

“Damn you, Knight, Simon was my friend, how dare you cut him down. Don’t think for a second you won’t hang for this. We are fully vouched by for the King. How do you think he maintains the order in the countryside? These poor sods lost their fear of the wild men years ago. I fought in those battles, besides the king we shed blood together capturing this land for the crown. Who are you to claim your superiority over us.”

Leyton gripped his sword, he didn’t like where this was going. Already the thought that these behaviors were condoned had spurred him to ask for the escort duty, now he was almost certain that if the King didn’t condone them, he simply didn’t care. He struggled to come to terms with the rapidly changing situation. His instinct knew where this was going, but his oath demanded it didn’t.

Nigel’s yelling floated between them then dissipated the further away she ran. She made one brief stop before running on. Cat shimmied up a tree not too close to the village’s center. It gave her just enough distance. Adjusting the bow over her shoulder, she idly turned her head from the gathering villagers to the cloud of dust that gave way to a small group of men. Her breath hissed inward. It was the king’s men! Hell and damnation. Hadn’t they given enough to the Crown? What did they want now? Turnips? Cat settled back amongst the branches, getting comfortable but not for long. Her emerald colored eyes swiftly moved from man to man. That son of a whore. She was about to draw her bow and notch it with an arrow when she heard another man’s voice arrest her movements. Briefly. Her eyes narrowed. She recognized the one who held a knife on her friend Emily. The very fact that he had drawn Emily’s blood was enough to make her own boil. The matter was compounded by the fact that she knew that Emily’s blood had been drawn in anger and mistaken identity. She was going to kill that bastard. Before she drew her last breath, she vowed it so. Cat drew a deep breath, lowering her bow. Her eyes went to the man, the knight, obviously, who was chastising the man who had harmed Emily. Simon. The bastard’s name was Simon. Cat committed it to memory. She would not soon forget it. Emily’s spilt blood deserved no less.

Cat’s anger boiled over. Was that their answer to everything? A few coins tossed in Emily’s direction? The life of a king’s villagers meant so little in the grander scheme of things. After all, they, the villagers, were nothing more than a means to an end. The more she watched, the angrier she got and she wanted to put an arrow not only into this Simon but the royal tax collector as well. That would get her hung but at the moment, she simply did not care. The only thing to still her hand was this knight. Her lips quirked slightly as she heard him refer to Emily as beautiful. Cat could not dispute it. Emily, even in her peasant’s dress, was undeniably beautiful. Unlike Cat herself. For the first time in her life, Cat was aware of her trews and boy’s tunic, her boots, the freckles that sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. Her breasts were not as full or as womanly as Emily’s nor were her hips as lush. Cat gave her head a brief shake. What was wrong with her? Never before had she such thoughts. Where had these comes from? What had wrought them? Her attention returned to the scene playing out below and before her.

Cat’s free hand flew to cover her mouth. This…this knight. Had he just…. Surely not. Yet, it was undeniable. He had slain that whoreson called Simon. She didn’t know if she should feel mollified or angry. There was no time for either for another of the men, one she recognized as the royal tax collector caught Emily to himself and raised a knife to her innocent throat. NO! God in heaven, no. Emily was innocent of any wrong doing. It was not her fault that, that idiot Simon had mistaken Emily for herself. If anything, this was her doing. She always found a way to taunt the man. Now Emily was paying for it. Bile rose to the back of Cat’s throat even as she raised her bow again, this time notching an arrow. The hanging would so be worth her own life maybe even her own beheading if that tax collector harmed one hair on Emily’s head. It wasn’t only the injustice of it all, this was one of her friends. She couldn’t simply stand by and watch Emily’s life come to an end. Cat drew back her arm, the arrow notched and ready, quivering to be released and find its mark as the king’s tax collector drew first blood. His dagger became stained with Emily’s blood.

“I promise you I will return the girl, please do not follow us, I will deal with this. She will be safe at home before nightfall.”

The knight’s words stilled her hand. Cat wasn’t sure why. She silently watched as the king’s men left the way they had come albeit slower. The villagers, she knew, would do naught to stop them, even though they had left with one of their own. They weren’t stupid. To raise a hand against the king’s men would mean all their deaths. Cat’s heart pounded in her chest as she lowered her bow, replacing her arrow in the quiver at her back. She would follow them out of town. She would watch slightly, for the time being to see if the knight’s word was worth anything. As she climbed gracefully out of the tree and dropped to the ground, she had her doubts.

On silent feet, careful to leave no indication of her trail, Cat followed them. Glancing up at the sky, she figured she had been trailing them for nearly an hour or so. When she heard voices she stopped. Her breathing became shallow and rapid as she hid behind a large outcrop of rocks, listening. That knight and the tax collector were fighting over Emily. From her vantage point, she saw the tax collector grope Emily. The knight held his sword as angry words flowed between them. Cat watched the knight’s face, gauging his state of mind and she wasn’t all that sure she liked it. Well, so much for the man’s word but then, what could one expect from a king’s man? Once more, she drew her bow from her shoulder, notched it with an arrow and sighted down its length. If the knight wasn’t going to do anything, she would. The arrow was given its freedom and it flew through the air true, finding it mark in the tax collector’s exposed leg. The man yelled again, releasing Emily as he did so. Cat came out from her hiding place, another arrow being notched and made ready.

“So much for your word, knight. I should have killed this one the minute his knife’s blade found Emily’s neck and drew blood.”

Her words were harsh, yes. She cared naught.

“Emily, how fare you? Come over here quickly. Do not move tax collector,” Cat sneered at the man, “touch Emily again and the next arrow will find your man parts. I am deadly accurate with my bow. Do not move either, knight. I do not wish to harm you although I should. You deprived me of my kill earlier.”

Cat warily watched the men as Emily scrambled to her feet and hurried to join her friend. There was no fear in Cat’s eyes only deadly truth for both men to see. Inside she was quaking and would be glad when they left this place. So, when the tax collector made a lastminute to grab Emily, Cat released another arrow, this time it thudded into the ground between the man’s legs. It was enough to make him abruptly stop and visibly gulp. Another arrow was quickly notched.

“Consider that your final warning,” Cat’s voice was velvet soft with meaning.

The tax collector turned a suddenly pale face to the knight.

“ARE YOU GOING TO LET THIS…THIS GIRL GET AWAY WITH THIS? DO SOMETHING!”

“I wouldn’t suggest it, knight. I can put an arrow in this man’s heart, notch another for you before you can reach me.”

There wasn’t one ounce of boastful pride in her words only deadly truth. She might be a female but that didn’t mean she couldn’t wield a weapon and be lethal about it.

“I have only come for Emily. I suggest you take your men and on your way. I will be sure that your friend… what was his name? Simon? Get’s a burial befitting him. The crows would be happy for a decent meal, I’m sure.”

Cat’s brain was trying to figure out how to retreat from this situation along with Emily. She didn’t dare take her focus off the men before her to reassure herself that Emily was fine. Time enough for that once they had gotten away safely. Cat’s only disappointment was the knight. For some reason deep down, she had wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe he would have found some way to return Emily to them, but she had seen his face. His oath warred within him. He was a king’s man after all. He was no different than any of the other King’s men who had come before him.

The arrow whizzed past, Leyton could smell the blood from Wills wound. He spun to find the attacker. He could see how Simon had confused the two, they both were beautiful. The one she called Emily may have been a bit fuller, but this one, she was fierce. The fire in her soul seemed to flow through her hair and fueled her skill with the bow. He watched as Emily ran to the girl, finding shelter behind her. He had to suppress a small giggle when the tax collector came close to losing a bit more than blood. But this girl had attacked the king’s men and put herself in a precarious position. His oath demanded her head, but his heart told him that the men he was tasked with escorting should bare the swing of the headsman’s axe.
Will’s voice broke him from his thoughts, he was yelling again and Leyton couldn’t help but feel a little tired of him. But where was the third man, he hadn’t seen Jim since the girl entered.

“Will, William, whatever your name is, would you shut up. I see no need for any more bloodshed, and if you would limit your wine intake you wouldn’t be bleeding half as bad.”

He turned to the girl, she turned the arrow toward him, he smiled.

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen anyone quite as good with a bow as you, but I do say your manners could use some refresher courses.”

He raised his hands to show he meant no harm, holding his sword loosely in his right hand. He wasn’t planning on leaving himself unarmed or unprepared for an attack. He glanced at the blade, Simons blood hat started to dry and turn brown on his blade. Oddly enough out of everything that had happened today, that bothered him more than anything. Simon might have not deserved his blade, but his blade certainly didn’t deserve to rust because of it.

“Girl, since you heard my words you should know a knight doesn’t make promises lightly, and Emily would have been in her bed tonight if you had left it to me. Now I’m not sure what to do, my oath says you should be brought before the magistrate, but If I do I have to explain why the town shouldn’t face consequences for rioting and any charge my companions can drum up for them.”

Leyton turned, the oath Marcus taught him running in his head.

“Defend the weak”

He turned on his heel and lowered his hands.

“Stand for what is right”

He gripped his sword, his muscles tense for what was to come.

“Never take up arms for an unworthy cause”

He lunged, his sword sank into the tax collector’s chest. He closed his eyes, a whispered his apologizes for his oath as a Royal Guard.

As Will the tax collector fell, Leyton flicked his sword removing the traces of blood from the steel. He sighed and spoke to Will as his life left.

“William, I hereby execute you for the crimes committed in service to King Henrich VII and against the people of Martellus. For these crimes, my oath as a Knight demands your penance. Go now to your god and find solace that your crimes committed on this plane are absolved in blood.”

He whipped the sword against his pants, cleaning the blade as best he could. Sheathing his blade, he turned to the girls. He couldn’t take his eyes of the bow woman, he normally would be quick to dismiss a woman’s skill, but she had demonstrated her capabilities.

“Ladies, sorry for the display, beautiful women like yourselves shouldn’t be subject to such grotesque acts. Now, I hope you have had your fill of these woods and I think we may need to find somewhere to rest. The other man, Jim, has fled and I fear what his words will bring down on us. I doubt we can catch up with him at this point, so I suggest we head back toward the village and rest. I think we will have company soon.”

He walked past the pair, his eyes lingering on the archer’s face, trailing down her neck. He caught her gaze and snapped his eyes forward. She looked concerned. No wonder, it’s not often you see a knight abandoned his sworn oath and take down a man that was supposed to be an ally.

“I can tell your wondering why I did that. Just know I have an oath to my people, I took it before I took an oath to the King. The thing about loyalty is that it takes both parties to uphold it, we have both broken our oaths, the King and I, oath breakers.”

He felt tired, today’s events wore on him and he longed for a drink and a warm bed. He noticed the girl hadn’t dropped her bow yet.

“Please, lower your bow, I can see your arm getting tired and I don’t really want to be shot today. I quite enjoy this tunic.”

He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

“Ladies, would you allow me to escort you back to the village. I do hope the villagers are in a more hospitable mood. I fear I will have a long ride tomorrow, and a rest would be appreciated.”

Cat desperately tried to hide her snicker. So the knight had a sense of humor. However, just when she thought she could possibly like him, he opened his mouth and infuriated her. Her manners? There was nothing wrong with her manners, her mother, bless her soul, had seen to that and in the same breath dared to call her girl? She had grown out her childhood long ago.

“Do not speak to me of your oath knight,” she spat the words out. Her irritation with the man clearly showing in her voice, “ you allowed harm to come to an innocent. You have vowed to protect the weak not stand by and watch as she is harmed not once but twice and then groped by that filth.”

Before she could continue her tirade, her eyes widened as the knight turned, plunging his sword into the tax collector’s chest. Her eyes involuntarily turned to the latter and watched the shock fill his eyes mere seconds before he crumpled to the ground. Dead. She didn’t have to hear the knight’s proclamation to know the truth of the matter. Her bow lowered and a bit absentmindedly, she unnotched her arrow, returning it to her quiver. The knight’s next words instilled a fear deep in her belly. It crept up her throat until the metallic taste of it filled her mouth. Yes. They would come. More than a few. With weapons and they would lay to waste everyone and everything that is their village. To the king, they meant nothing. He could order their destruction and it would mean less to him than what shoes to wear to dinner. Cat hiked her bow over one shoulder and turned to Emily. Withdrawing a dagger from her boot, she cut at strip off her tunic and wound it around Emily’s neck.

“You should be fine, Emily but we’ll have our healer look at it once we get back. Come. The knight is right. We need to go. He is all that stands between us and annihilation. Maybe.”

The king would not take kindly to the death of his tax collector she was sure. Cat took Emily’s arm and helped down the out cropping of rock they had been standing on and joined the knight. Cat studied him for a moment or more and felt they were safe enough with him.

“You may join us, knight. We need to hurry. I worry for Emily. Today she has suffered much in the hands of men. I wish to get her home to her parents and the healer quickly. Also, we need to inform the people of my village.”

All of a sudden weariness engulfed her. It made her bones ache. As much as Cat wished that she could sleep, there was too much that needed to be seen to before she could allow sleep to claim her. Time was also of the essence. There was no telling how long before the King ordered more men to her village and if they found the bodies of the King’s representatives? What would happen to the people of her village? She quickly allowed herself to glance at the knight who accompanied them. Even though those men had died by his hand in the King’s name, the King wasn’t known for being fair unless fair was in his favor.

Emily was looking a bit pale and tired.

“Perhaps we should stop for the night. Emily could use the rest and the sun will be setting soon.”

Without waiting for a reply from either of them. Cat found a small clearing and set about gathering small pieces of wood to start a fire with. Water wouldn’t be a problem, she could hear a small brook nearby. All they needed now was a fire to keep them warm and to cook by. Then she would offer to go hunt for their supper. The knight had his sword, but she had a ranged weapon. It didn’t take long for Cat to get a fire started. She got to her feet, dusting off her knees.

“Good knight, would you mind finding us more firewood and keeping an eye on Emily while I hunt for our supper? It should not take me long. The woods here are plentiful of game.”

Cat helped Emily to sit by the fire and checked her friend’s wounds. They were oozing but there was no sign of infection that Cat could see. At least, not so far. She would feel better once they had gotten Emily to the Healer’s. Emily settled on the ground with a soft relieved sigh. She had said naught of her injuries but she was ever so glad to be stopping for the night. A cool drink would be welcomed as well, however, she had nothing to drink from. Hopefully, Cat would think of something. Emily was not sure about the knight. He was a King’s man even though he wanted that other man to release her. She watched the knight in trepidation.

Cat looked quickly from her friend to the knight and instinctively knew that Emily would be in safe hands. With a soft nod to Emily, she slipped away into the forest to hunt. Her feet made little sound on the forest floor. With just as much care, she removed her bow from her shoulder as she continued to walk and listen. The sound of rustling leaves stopped her in her tracks. An arrow was drawn. Her breathing came in soft, short spurts as she waited. It didn’t take long for the leaves to part and a fat hare bounded out of its hiding place. Swiftly and silently an arrow was notched and sighted down. The bowstring was pulled taunt then released. There was a faint whistle in the air as the arrow found its mark true. The hare did not suffer. Cat retrieved the prize of her hunt and headed back toward their small camp. She thought to call out as she drew closer. The knight wasn’t sure of her either, not that she could blame him for that. They were at an uneasy truce, at least, that was Cat’s thought. Just before she drew into the ring of light their fire gave off, Cat stopped to dress the hare. She found a green branch by which to spit the hare upon and quietly entered their small camp. It took a bit of work to fix a spot over the fire to roast the hare upon but it was done and the fat from the hare sizzled quietly into the fire below as it cooked. Cat sat next to Emily and spoke quietly with her as the night drifted on around the three travelers. Cat set her bow and quiver close to herself and drew her knees up to rest her chin upon.

“Sir knight, tell us about yourself.”

The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of roasting meat. The crickets and frogs serenaded them with their own brand of song and the night had a bit of a nip to it. The night sky above them was slowly filling with stars. If it hadn’t been for the small bit of nasty history between them, this could have been a pleasant night.

He sighed, they didn't have time to rest, but Emily did look exhausted. His good nature won, and he settled into helping set up camp. It was a rather quick process and the the red haired archer seemed confident in the forest. He let her give him a few quick orders as she took off to hunt. He wondered how she would be able to hunt in the dim light, but she seemed confident.

While she was away, he attempted to console the girl, he was worried over the wound and she had seen far to much bloodshed for a maiden of her age.

"Emily, I"m sorry you had to see all of that. I'm sorry I let them take you so far, but I did not want to allow any harm to come to the villagers. I couldn't think of a way to protect you and them while in the village."

She seemed to a little withdrawn, her eyes unfocused. He had seen it before, a kind of battle fatigue, but it faded in time. He just hoped she would fully recover in time.

Before too long, the red head had returned. They quickly prepared a pit and the meal. He hadn't eaten wild rabbit in quite some time, it was a welcome change from city food. She sat near her look alike Emily, they did look very similar, but the other girl was beautiful in a way that few other girls he knew were. Her question piqued his ears, a smile crept across his lips.

"Well my fine archer, I think introductions are in order. I am Leyton Delmar, former Knight of the realm. Now I think I should be properly introduced to your lady friend, Emily right?"

He paused, adjusting his gaze to the archer, he looked for any hint of what her thoughts held in her eyes before speaking again.

"For all your fierceness you forgot to introduce yourself to me, my lady."

He poured on his smoothest voice, he wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling this girl was worth the attention he wanted to give her. She had already proved her self far beyond his initial gauge of her skills. If he hadn't been here, the three fools would have most likely fallen to her arrows before they had taken Emily. But he thanked the stars that he had been here, he knew what he had to do now, it could have been his sword the king selected to take her head. The thought tamped down the fire building in his chest, but the coolness was short lived as the fire danced shadows across her face. She really was breathtaking.

Cat blushed. She cold feel the heat of it creep up her throat and flood her face. This was the second time he had made her feel embarrassed. There was little she could do but ignore it. She cleared her throat.

“Forgive my manners. I suppose the situation we find ourselves in has made me forgetful. I am Catherine, but everyone simply calls me Cat. Tis a pleasure to meet you, Sir Delmar and what do you mean former knight of the realm? My friend is Emily Brannon. I know she’ll want to thank you herself, but I want to add my thanks as well so thank you for helping Emily. She is my best friend. I know time is of the essence, but for Emily’s sake, I felt we should stop for the evening.”

As she was speaking, she studied the knight. He must have been at Court for some time. His voice was smooth, polished. His armor was dented in places and it harbored scratches. However, it was clean. Of sorts. There were blood splatters from his execution of the King’s men. That thought made her remember that he was one of the King’s men and he could be ordered to see to the death of everyone she cared about, herself included. As she studied him there was a part of her that wasn’t worried. He seemed like a good man. His oath she was a bit skeptical about. In life you made choices and with those choices came consequences. She was willing to die for those she cared about. She would defend them with her life and it may just come down to that.

“How long do you think it will be before the King sends others? And you, Sir Knight, whose side will you defend?”

She moved to turn the roasting rabbit as she awaited his reply. Could she trust him? Should she? Her fate may very well be in his hands. What would he do then?

Listing to her speak he realized he had caught her off guard, she seemed almost nervous to talk to him. He couldn’t tell if it was her blushing or the heat of the fire, but her cheeks were redder than they had been. The thought brought a smile to his lips. Her name did its rounds in his mind, and it suited her well.

“Cat, huh I like that, she is lean and lithe like one, it’s a fitting name for a huntress.”

He let her finish before talking. He started undoing the belts that held his armor on. He didn’t wear much today but he did have his arm and shoulder guard on, as well as a thin breastplate that was designed for daily wear. He worked the buckles getting his arm free before answering. The metal clinking as he laid it down behind the log that made his makeshift back rest.

“Cat, Emily, the pleasure is mine. As for the former question, well I just struck down not one but two of the Kings chosen representatives. I think that signals an end of our relationship pretty well. It would have been three if I hadn’t been distracted.”

Leaning back against the log he was seated against, he worked some of the buckles on his chest plate. A few were proving to be out of reach by a few inches. He fumbled with them as he finished speaking, his voice a little gruff from the weird contorting he was doing.

“Well as for how soon, I don’t know, depends on how fast Jim can run, depends on how soon the King will see him, it also depends on how much the King actually cares.”

He thought about his next answer, pausing before rushing into something.

“Well, I don’t think I will have much choice, I doubt if we get the company I will be anything other than one of you all….but that isn’t something that would have changed the outcome anyway, I made up my mind when I struck down the tax collector.”

She turned the rabbit, and the smell of dinner filled the air, his stomach growled and he laughed, a warm deep throaty chuckle that came from the chest.

“Damn, that smells wonderful, think you can help me with these straps so I can be comfortable and enjoy the dinner?”

He pointed at the straps he couldn’t reach that were tucked under his arm along his side. The buckle just a bit out of his reach, while in the armor.

Her eyes followed his movements as he began to remove his armor in order to feel more comfortable during the night. Suddenly realizing what she was doing, she quickly turned her sight to watch their dinner roast.

“Are you so sure your relationship with the King has ended? Surely he will want to know if the deaths were justified.”

Even as she spoke, she wondered who was she kidding. All the King would care about was the fact that his knight had slain two of the royal’s men, one being his tax collector. The other man who had run off, might be fast but she’d grant that it would take a day or two before more of the King’s men showed up, if they did. Cat relaxed a little more. She glanced over at him before reluctantly leaving their meal. Getting to her feet, Cat slowly made her way to the knight’s side. She could feel the warmth of his body at her fingertips. She had never been this close to a strange man before. Ducking her head, her eyes avoiding his, her fingers fumbled with the buckle that held the straps in place. Biting on her lower lip in concentration, she played squire. It was a novel situation. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Cat quickly glanced at his face and away. Hopefully, he couldn’t hear it. She moved around behind him to his other side so she could unfasten those straps.

“Lift your arm,” she spoke so quietly, she wondered if he would hear her. Once more she cleared her throat, “you are more than welcome to join us in the village, Sir Delmar. I’m afraid our accommodations are…” what was the word she wanted to use? “… rather rustic.” There. Her old teacher would have been proud of her. The serving women at the small inn would fall all over themselves to serve him. Somehow, that thought left her feeling odd.

“Excuse me.” Cat finished unbuckling him and skittered off into the growing darkness. She needed to find something to serve their supper upon. The rather large leaves of a nearby tree would suffice. Cat returned quickly bearing several of these leaves. She sat them down not far from the fire and using her personal knife, removed the rabbit from the spit. She divided up their meal, passing it out as she cut it. Cat was slightly unnerved and didn’t understand it. She took the smaller portion for herself. Her appetite was minimal. Taking her food she left Emily to eat with the knight while she moved off to the outer edge of the light, she would take first watch. It was better for her to avoid the fire anyway. The light it gave off would blind her. Her eyes needed the darkness to keep watch. Cat picked at her food, finally giving up any pretense of eating. She hated wasting food. Rolling it in the leaf, she would keep it to give to Emily for breakfast. Cat didn’t understand her reaction to the knight. She leaned back against a tree trunk and got as comfortable as she could, puzzling over her feelings.

She managed to get the last buckle of his plate loose and he rolled his shoulders working the tension out of them as the armor fell to the ground. He thought Cat must have been nervous, she was flushed and practically jumped away from him once the buckle was loose. He smiled thinking of what her thoughts must be. It was nice of her to invite him to the village, but he worried what the other villagers might think, but that could be dealt with in time.

He took his boots off, and stretched his feet out enjoying not being confined as much. He stretched his feet out toward the fire, wiggling his toes. He heard a soft giggle come from Emily and he turned to smile back at her. Cat had melded into the shadows of the forest before returning with some very large leaves to serve the roast rabbit on. He happily took his helping, thanking her for the work.

"Thank you for the invite, I rather enjoy rustic, I grew up poor and then I traveled with my mentor. I'm quite accustomed to the simple life."

Chewing his first bite of food, he waited till he had swallowed.

"Oh, you can drop the Sir, and call me Leyton."

When he had finished his meal, he noticed that Cat had wrapped hers for later, he guessed the day had been a bit much for her and the appetite can suffer from stress. Wanting to break the tension he figured a bit of small talk would work.

"So Cat, tell about you, is there a Sir. Cat?

Emily’s soft giggle made Cat smile. It was good to hear Emily find something amusing this day. From the shadows of their small camp, she looked over her shoulder at Sir---Leyton. A frown formed between her eyes and cleared as dawning came. There was a swift shake of her head as she returned her sight to the darkness. Her voice was as quiet as a gentle rustle of leaves.

“No. I am not promised or wed.”

She didn’t ponder upon why he asked such things. Her mind was turned inward. At her age many girls were already married with a child. Even Emily was promised to Samuel, the innkeeper. They were to wed in the spring. Cat drew her cloak tighter around her body. Her reaction to Leyton puzzled her. She had never experienced such before. Her fingers scrambled around the dirt in the growing darkness, curling around a thick twig. Drawing up a knee, she withdrew a dagger from the top of her boot and started to whittle away at the twig. She had been handling knives since she was a wee one. The swords came later. Cat’s lips quirked. Not many knew of that talent of hers. While not strong, she was agile and quick on her feet. Perhaps, it was because she acted more like a boy than a girl that she was not promised to anyone in the village. If truth were to be told, there were moments when she wished otherwise. For the most part, she was content with herself as she was.

Strength was noble. Yet, there was something….. something deep inside of herself that was so tired of being strong all the time. People turned to her in their time of need, Cat had accepted that. Yet, from time to time, she wondered who did she have to turn to. Sometimes, even the strong needed to be weak and not in a bad way either. She gave a small soft sigh, flinging the twig into the darkness. She was being foolish. She half turned from her chosen spot against a tree trunk to look toward camp, careful not to gaze directly into the light.

“And you, Sir---um--- Leyton?”

A knight’s life was not a glorious one. It was hard and poor. It had its own rewards she was sure. Cat found herself holding her breath as she waited for Leyton to answer her question. If he was of a mind to, of course.

Leyton smiled at her answer, he didn’t know exactly what he wanted from her yet, but it brought a joy to his heart that she wasn’t spoken for. He watched as she fidgeted with her knife and woodwork. When she pulled the cloak around her, he worried she was cold. When she spoke, returning his question eh rose and stoked the fire a bit to cut the chill from her. He considered returning to his spot on the other side of the fire but decided to take a risk. He rounded the fire and sat beside her, casually using his body to block and breeze and laying his arm behind her, not quite touching her but close. His heart thumped in his chest as he talked, his eyes taking her in between the flickering lights of the fire. Her hair seemed ablaze and he followed the curve of her jaw to her neck and followed the supple lines of it down, he caught himself and brought his eyes back to her’s before speaking.

“Well no, not as such, I few girls have tried but they didn’t have what I was looking for. I’ve always wanted someone that could be my equal and be mine in front of the hearth.”

She watched him with eyes the color of dark emeralds. There was little in her face that gave away what she was feeling. God only knew how she had learned that lesson of schooling her face to show none of her current emotions or thoughts. When he came to sit beside her, Cat could feel her whole inner being still. She was quite aware of the fact that Leyton was studying her. Her curiosity made her wonder what he saw and was thinking. When he chose to not return to his spot in their camp and came to sit beside her, it was all she could do not to jump. It was the last thing she expected. Cat glanced over her shoulder at Emily and found the girl sound asleep on the ground. She bit down on her bottom lip as she turned her head back around. Her mind struggled for something to say to him. When his arm stretched out behind her, Cat was extremely aware of his closeness. Her common sense was making a supreme effort to surface.

“I know Emily and I have not said anything but we want to thank you for all the help you have rendered this day. “




Dirty. Clothes torn. Exhausted. Such was Jim’s state of being as he entered the kingdom. Wearily he made his way to the King’s castle. The guards there barely recognized him. Dragging himself into the castle, he begged audience with the King. Instead, he got the King’s minister. The man, dressed in the robe of his station, looked down his long nose at Jim.

“It is late. His Grace is not receiving now. Go to the barracks and clean yourself up. Report back here in the morning looking decent instead of looking like you have rolled around in a pig sty. Whatever it is you have to say can wait until then.”

Jim was too tired to argue. If this fool wanted his report to wait, then who was he to argue? Jim drug himself off to the barracks. He needed a strong drink but first? Bed and sleep.




“I…. I think I’ll try to get some sleep now. Mayhaps it would be wise if you did as well. We need be up at the crack of dawn.”

Why did she feel so nervous and shy around him? She had never felt anything like this before. She offered him a smile of apology as she hastily to her feet and brushed off her trews. Then without looking at him any longer, she went to lie down beside Emily. Something told her that sleep would be a long time in coming, if it came at all.

She avoided his suggestive tone well, he had wondered if he would get something more out of her, but the only tell she gave was the subtle lip bite. It stirred him seeing it, he doubted a hundred horses could have held him back if she had given him an indication of desire beyond that. Instead, she had thanked him and that was special in of itself. He got the feeling that a heartfelt thanks came few and far between from this girl. He nodded as she walked to get some sleep, it had been a long day and sleep didn't sound bad, however, he wasn't sure what would come in the night. As he watched her curves settle into a resting position next to Emily, he leaned back, releasing some the tension she started in a sigh. He half closed his eyes as he head rolled back, the starlight peaking through the canopy of trees. He quietly sang a song from his time with Marcus. The old knight had traveled far and heard many stories and tales of the wild places that held their secrets.

Wrap yourself in your best bright clothes, your red and purple scarves of silk.
Run with me to the festival, where we will dance until sunrise.
The dwarves will beat their funny drums of zebra skins and hollowed trees,
while stiltwalkers perform, and the musician blows his bamboo flute.

And late in the night, the poets and storytellers entertain,
delight us with their dancing words, as we listen, clapping by the fire.
Enchant me with your tale-telling. Tell about Tree, Grass, River, and Wind.
Tell why Truth must fight with Falsehood, and why Truth will always win.

I will tell my father's stories: how the giant mantis fooled Death
by holding still as a felled tree; how the elephants trampled
the leopard cub, and its father, though he knew, killed nine goats instead;
how pirates gambled with a djinn and lost the thing more dear than gold.

Tonight we'll eat a farewell feast. Cold corn porridge is not enough.
Let's peel papayas, pineapples, and mangoes, drink coconut milk,
and bake bananas. We'll dine on crocodiles, wild birds, and turtles,
perhaps a hippopotamus--if only you can catch it first.

I'll build a palace made of stone. Two hippo-headed guards will serve,
and tigers carry in your meals. I'll capture flying zebras
for your steeds, and fill the stable with every kind of unicorn.
Butterflies and salamanders will decorate your garden.

I'll strand long strings of beads for you, blue, the color only kings may wear.
I'll carve a soapstone lioness, a wooden box to lock it in,
girded with sapphire amulets, ostrich feathers, ivory.
These things will protect you while I'm gone, remind you of my love for you.

Your voice resounds like a songbird's, every word is a sweet, soft song.
When you run you're graceful and swift, sleek as a powerful panther.
Mysterious chameleon, you're a thousand women at once,
sharp and strong as a lioness, yet gentle as a striped gazelle.

On this our last day together, let us walk across the grasslands.
Hold my hand and let's walk slowly, seeing everything as children.
Let's walk on the Plains, where leopards hang from trees, dosing,
tasseled tails swaying in the shade, near villages of tree-dwelling elves.

Glorious, to walk again across the savannah with my beloved.
A lion walks commandingly, a general among his troops,
camped the night before a battle. A snake, colorful and coiled, loops
around his bough, mischievous, hanging over the village path.

We'll find termites in their nests, hard tall towers above the plains,
and point-eared cats, taking their turns, guarding their many entrances.
We'll find the basket-nests of birds hanging from the acacia tree.
Rhinoceroses and dragons for once will let us walk in peace.

When lightning tears the sky's dark cloak and heaven's bird beats the water
on the muddy plains with its big wings, termites and frogs escape their homes
toward the lamps in the nearest village. Spiders dry themselves indoors,
the spotted lizards that never fall from ceilings suddenly appear.

In the forest, fires light the sky as the black clouds unfold their weight.
The black-and-white sacred monkey holds her children to her and waits.
Love, like lightning hits suddenly. It sparks the heart with blows of light,
its fire extending, bends, expands, beats and breaks your hiding places.


Remember when we were children, herding the sheep together,
leading them over the grassy hills with long sticks. Your silly songs
made me laugh, and in the evening, you'd enchant me with your stories,
lying on your back beside me. Even then my heart was yours.

I remember your sacred rites. You were so funny, so grown up,
so stiff and serious, all arms and elbows. You went in a girl,
but you returned a warrior. You marched back with the others--
your hair was cut, your eye tattooed with the red triangle of war.

Tomorrow I must go, my love. I will tattoo my head with braids.
My shield will bear a shining sun so you will always be with me.
Inlaid with gold, it will shine like glowing embers. I will return
with lizard skins for your sandals. Paint your eyes black and wait for me.

I am the sun, you are the moon. Wherever you lead I will go,
following across the wide sky, as long as I live and you love.
Sun follows Moon until she tires, then carries her until she's strong
and runs ahead of him again.I'll carry you, too, my beloved.

My love, we are not Sun and Moon. Instead, we are like day and night.
The old ones say Day is a woman, who works only while it is light.
She herds her goats and catches fish, fills her fields with golden corn,
shows her children what is just and protects them from the cobra.

Day loves Night, who works in darkness, walking through heaven's milky sky
collecting stars with his quick arms, piling them into a basket
like a child collecting lizards and piling them into her pot
until the pot overflows with lizards, 'til the basket overflows with light.

Night wears a black cloak lined with fire, studded inside with gleaming stars.
At dawn and dusk, he spies his love. Across the rolling hills of sky,
they glimpse each other--so briefly. They throw each other kisses, cry.
Their tears spill over the land. Mixed with blood, they wash everything red.

But once, with a magician's help, Time was stopped and Day stood still.
Night spread over the land, wrapped Day in his dark cloak and held her.
In their miraculous embrace, the two became as One. Until
pulled from Day's arms, Night sank, commanded by the western horizon that always beckons him to come.

I won't give up hope, my love.

Our love is like the river in the summer season of long rains:
For a little while, it spilled its banks, flooding the crops in the fields.
But soon it will evaporate with the dry heat. Like Day from Night,
I'll live my life apart from you, just glimpsing you across the sky,
because you cannot change, my dear, and nor can I

He had heard Marcus sing only to the woman at the Inn he was left at, she wasn't the only woman Marcus had laid with but she was the only one he sang too. Leyton wondered what she thought, he felt a pang of guilt for never returning to the inn. She must have waited for them both to return then accepted the worse. Leyton didn't know why he remembered it, but maybe he just needed something happy to remember his old man by. He had never sung it for a woman, the song had a meaning he didn't quite understand yet, maybe he just hadn't met his woman in the inn yet.

A chill wind came, and he stoked the fire, he closed his eyes as the embers soared into the sky, trying to be part of the starlight before returning the earth as embers.

He woke before the girls the next morning, the air was unseasonably warm, and the air smelt of smoke from the embers of their fire. He quietly rose and walked to the river, laying his sword against a tree close to the bank, relieving himself against a tree before stripping down and stepping into the cool water. The water was cool and refreshing against the air, he washed the stain of yesterdays events off his hands and arms. Looking down into the water he saw a man he didn’t always recognize looking back at him. This time his hair looked a bit longer than it should, his normal military cut had started to grow out and his eyes seemed brighter than they had in a while, they reminded him of Cat’s but lighter striped with blue. He broke the smiling image with his hands, splashing his face.

“Damn, what is it about that girl that I can’t get out of my head.”

Though her eyes were closed tightly, she was willing herself not to roll over, open her eyes and study the knight. She knew he was a good person. His actions had spoken for him. There must have been a war inside of himself between doing what he knew was humanly right from duty to the King. His singing crept into her ears though he sang softly enough so as not to disturb the sleeping. Her lips twitched into a reluctant smile as she listened to the lyrics. Cat wondered if he sang for a special woman in his life. If so, she envied her. Once again, the knight showed a glimpse of his true nature and it was proving to be enticing. One day, she hoped to find such a man for herself. She wanted someone who wouldn’t lord it over her. Treat her as just chattel. She was so much more than that. Cat needed a strong man. Someone who could curb her impulsive nature when she failed to consider her own safety. Yet, she needed someone who could love her for her very nature without trying to change her. She needed a companion, a love, a mate. Someone who would make, in time, a good father. Aye, she wanted children. Some day. Cat gave a small sigh. That was something for the future. Maybe.



John presented himself to the castle, looking and feeling much better than the tattered beggar he looked the evening before. He made a fair bow as the King’s minister once more appeared. The minister recognized John and motioned him forward.

“Follow me. The King wishes a counsel with you.”

John followed the minister. He was feeling a bit nervous and he wasn’t sure why. They had done nothing wrong, yet here he was, the only one alive to report back to the King. His heart was thumping against his chest so hard as the King entered the room. The royal gestured to a nearby chair as he himself took his own seat.

“So tell me, John… it is John isn’t it? Why are you here? And where is my royal tax collector?”

John swallowed convulsively. He twisted his hands together in his lap.

“Dead, Your Highness. By the hand of one of your men. The knight you sent along.”

“ Leyton?! Why would Leyton kill my tax collector? It makes no sense to me.”

“Well…. Well… you see, Your Highness… it was about a girl. Si---Simon mistook her for someone else and cut her. The knight killed him. Then---then—the tax collector took the girl and as we escaped the village, Simon cut her throat and drew blood. The knight killed him too.”

“Was any coin collected form the village?”

John shook his head.

“None, Sire. There was no time. Not with Simon harming that girl. The villagers got angry then. We had to use the girl to escape.”

A frown formed on the King’s forehead. He raised a hand to rub there briefly before he gestured to John to leave. John, taking a hint for a change, bowed deeply and scuttled from the room as fast as he could, feeling lucky that he retained his life.

“Did you hear all that?”

The King’s minister came into view.

“I did, Sire. How do you wish to proceed? Surely we can’t allow a few villagers to rebel against the Crown.”

The King tapped a bejeweled finger on the arm of his chair. His eyes stared off into space a moment or more before they refocused in. His voice was thoughtful.

“No. No, we can’t, can we?”

He looked to his minister of affairs.

“Here’s what we are going to do……”


The new day dawned quickly or so it seemed to Cat. She gently awakened Emily and took a moment to look at her friend’s wounds. Cat was no healer but one of the wounds didn’t look good. She kept calm and rewrapped both before she located her bow and arrows. There was no time to hunt or cook. They needed to get back to their home to warn and prepare everyone. Just in case. It was only then she turned to Leyton.

“Good Morning to you Sir Leyton. I think it’s time we hurried from this place. I wish Emily to our healer and we need to advise and prepare the villagers for what may or may not come.”

Leyton was pulling his shirt back on as he approached the camp, Cat was already talking about the village. He smiled once he was dressed. She was a leader and a powerful woman. He felt the beginnings of a strong attraction forming in his chest as he listened to her.

“We do, how are Emily’s wounds?”

After checking the girl over, they struck out toward the village. Emily walked a bit ahead of them, she still hadn’t ushered a word since the accident, but she seemed to be healing some. Leyton walked beside cat, relaxed but ready for any trouble. He talked as they walked.

“So. Cat, you said you had no one, is that because you’re not interested or something else?

They were approaching the village by this point, he hoped everything was going to be safe, he worried about the reaction by the King and his men.

Cat got slowly to her feet and dusted off her trews. She didn’t want to say what she was worried about, not in front of Emily.

“I’ll be happy when we get back home so our healer can treat these wounds. Men’s knives or swords are not the cleanest things.”

She still felt odd around Leyton. Especially when he pulled on his shirt. She gave her head a small shake as they started to walk.


“So. Cat, you said you had no one, is that because you’re not interested or something else?”


She glanced in his direction briefly. She wasn’t sure how to answer him. Her mind felt like a squirrel dashing here and there.


“I’m not sure I can explain it, “ she paused briefly as she tried to gather her thoughts, “I’ll know what I’m searching for when I find it…. I suppose.”

How was she suppose to tell a man what she was looking for in a man? She felt uneasy and definitely self-conscious. Cat tried again.


“It’s not that I am uninterested. I just haven’t found anyone who appeals to me. I try to live my life strong and true and I suppose I want a man who is the same. Someone I would be more than willing to stand besides if we ever have to fight for something important. “

The village came into view and Cat sighed softly. At least they made it home without an incident. Now she could get Emily to the healer, that was her first move. They would stop by the Inn and reassure Thomas that Emily is fine. Then while Emily was being seen by the healer Cat would go see Nigel. There was a lump in the pit of her belly and it didn’t set well. She knew the situation was not over yet.



The King’s minister spoke with the captain of the King’s guard. The conversation was brief. The captain made a quick bow and spun on his heel, calling the few guard that lingered around to him.

“The king has ordered that a few men go to this village and administer the King’s justice. “

The captain pointed at a certain knight. The knight stepped forward.

“Sir Brian Westley will lead you men. He holds the King’s word. Whatever he decides is in the name of the King. “

The captain turned to Sir Westley.

“You have the King’s power. Do not abuse it. Use it wisely in the name of the King. You are dismissed.”

The captain left the practice field. Sir Westley turned toward the small troop men standing in front of him.

“We leave at sun break. Do not be late.”



“The Healer says Emily will heal. She treated the wounds with some herbs and a salve. Will you accompany me to see Nigel, Sir Leyton?”

It was hard for her to simply just call him Leyton. She wasn’t sure why. They needed to speak with Nigel and get the feel of how the other villagers felt about what had happened and try to prepare them for what may come. Cat assured Emily that she would be back this evening to see her and check up on her wounds. Leaving the healer’s home all Cat could think about was speaking with Nigel and what their reception would be. Cat looked at Leyton.

“How good are you at war? I don’t expect it from the villagers but if the King’s men come here, I can’t promise there won’t be war. The people grow tired of the King always coming this way to collect coins or if there is not enough coins for their liking they will take food stores or livestock. The king is always in need. Many tire of it. Many are at the end of their patience. What little of it there was. We are human beings yet, the King’s men treat us no better than livestock.”

Cat closed her mouth. She was stepping up on her box to preach and it was time to stop. The man who had first harmed Emily, the one called Simon. It was all her, Cat’s fault. He had mistaken Emily for her. Cat had gone rounds with Simon before. She had always managed to elude him. She knew what he had been after and she wasn’t willing. The fact that Simon had mistaken Emily for herself was Cat’s main motivating reason for going after Emily. She would have gone anyway because well, Emily was Emily. Her friend.

“Sir Leyton, have you ever felt like you carried the world’s troubles on your shoulders? I know the village is a small place considering the world outside of it, but its troubles still feel huge to me.”

She was just a girl. The men would say that she doesn’t carry the village upon her shoulders but she always felt like it. She oft times fed them, finding meat for many. She helped where she could. Did what she could. Many, if not all, looked toward her for help. Say what they would, for a girl she did much. The King’s men would come and when they did what would they do?

“It’s not that I am uninterested. I just haven’t found anyone who appeals to me. I try to live my life strong and true and I suppose I want a man who is the same. Someone I would be more than willing to stand beside if we ever must fight for something important. “

Her words play over in his head, distracting him from the conversation, what did that mean exactly, and did her choice to use “we” signify anything? Maybe he wasn’t alone in this attraction.

They walked through the village, it was a change to not have to be as formal as his position had demanded in the past, he let his body relax to a more natural state, letting go of some of the formal training that had been ground into him. His arms swung, and he let his posture settle into a more natural gait. He took the opportunity to let his hand brush Cat’s as they walked and talked. She was visibly concerned but still seemed to be unsure of his role in the events to come. The question was blunt, and he smiled a bit, she was an accomplished hunter, but he doubted she had ever seen real combat. He grabbed her hand and ducked into a small space between two of the houses, too small even to be called an alley. He lifted his shirt and unbuckled his belt pulling his trousers down a bit, revealing a large scar that ran the outside length of his left thigh, only the top portion of the scar was visible, and he let her eyes linger before fixing his clothes.

“That was from a rapier, I was on a patrol duty early on, I came upon a carriage being attacked by five me, they had killed the driver and guards. The Lord and Lady were holed up in the carriage. I think their name was Vandlecroft, but they were nice enough people. I was on horseback and I charged the men, I was able to catch one of the men before they countered. I leaped from my horse and engaged the men. I was outnumbered but they were not trained, I was able to end it quickly, the last man was fairly handy with his blade he managed to parry my strike and gave me a reminder that one must always be careful in combat. But the real problem came after, the men, they weren't bandits they were farmers and they were hungry and desperate. After making sure their victims were taken care of, I carried each man back to his home. The ones with wives, those were the hardest, the women cried and hit me, I couldn't say anything to them. I had killed their husband, ruined their lives. I laid each man to rest when their families would allow it. I had gold sent to each of the families, a poor attempt to ease their suffering. One sent the gold back, with a note. She told me that the gold didn't replace her husband, she told me that if I cared I would make sure that the next desperate man didn't have to find a grave because his family was hungry”

The weight of the story settled onto his shoulders, it was an unpleasant part of his past, he didn't care for reliving it much.

“What I mean is that conflict is something I am familiar with, I hope it doesn’t come to that. I was in the last war, I was young, and the battles were waning when I joined the fight, but everything I’ve done since then was supposed to be to prevent another war. I had thought the King was the one that would protect the peace, but apparently, he was just another fraud. If a war is to come, those that fight must be ready to put something in place to prevent the pain and suffering of the ones that can’t fight. Unseating one problem just to sit another doesn’t change anything.”

He lowered his eyes from hers, he felt conflicted. He wanted to do the right thing, but he had just thrown one of his oath’s aside, he hoped he had done the right thing. But he was afraid of the consequences of his choices.

“Here, let me give you something. I want you to have something that is important to me, so you can know that as long as you have it I will be fighting to protect you and the ones you care for. I think you have a good heart and wouldn’t fight back without a good reason, you love your people and that is a testament to your quality”

He pulled a small medallion out of his trousers, a simple gold coin, with a bit of Latin around the outside edge.

“Defendere infirma Ut pro iure quod Numquam indignus est causa capere arma enim. It is the oath of that I took many years ago before I was in the king’s service. My mentor taught me it, I had this coin made with my first stipend for my service. It reads, defend the weak, stand for what is right, never take up arms for an unworthy cause. I always thought the words stood for something better than they sounded. “

He paused for a minute, searching for the words.

“The words are simple, but they declare no allegiance to any king, they declare no preference for anyone’s ideas except your own, they put those that can’t above those that can.”
He smiled at the fierce woman in front of him, she was intense in her love of the townspeople, he wondered what they had done to deserve such loyalty.

“I’m rambling a bit, but I wanted to tell you this because I do feel the weight sometimes. I think the oath is part of that. It doesn’t give you anyone but yourself to set the path you walk on. That means you have to hold the weight of responsibility and the weight of your choices. Even small places have a lot of value, the world isn’t that big that one village isn’t important”

He leaned against the building behind him, letting out a sigh, he could feel the weight on his shoulders, his actions will have made the kings ear by now. All they could do now was wait for the response from the king.

Leyton righted his belt buckle and went to step past Cat, the space around them closing for the moment, he could feel her breath on his neck before he stepped into the light of the street. He looked back at Cat in the shadow of the buildings, a roguish smirk on his face.

“You ready to go, you wanted to introduce me to some people, didn’t you. What will they say, of your new male companion?”

He couldn’t help but tease her, the situation was so dire, and he wanted to lighten the mood a bit.

She was unprepared and surprised when he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a small space between the Mistress Ella’s house and Trent’s. Her eyes widened as she watched him lift his shirt but when he unbuckled his belt and lowered his trousers, even a little, her protest lodged in her throat. Surely, she should close her eyes. No, she should really not be between houses with him but before she could either find her voice or leave, he showed her a scar or rather the top of one. A nasty looking one. Her eyes followed it into his pants and she could only imagine what the rest of it looked like. He quickly fixed his clothes and continued with his story. She had asked for that. In a way. Yet, she had no way of determining until then, if he could handle himself should an even nastier situation arise. She still couldn’t. Not really. His words and his scar lent credence to his experience. Cat was just going to have to trust him. Did she really have any other choice? Before she could say or do anything else, he pressed a gold coin into her palm. She looked down at it, turning it over and over with her fingers. Those same fingers traced over the ancient words around the edge. She read them silently. Latin was something her old tutor taught her. It wasn’t something she admitted to knowing. Her internal voice spoke in tandem with him as he recited the Latin words. Words that touched her deep in her soul. Her fingers closed over the coin. She had never taken such an oath. If she had been born a man, she knew, she would have. It was something that was deeply ingrained within her. She cleared her throat, nodding her head toward the blacksmith’s.

“Come. Nigel will have heard that we have returned by now. He’ll be expecting to talk with us.”

Turning on her heel, she started out from between the two houses and headed for the smithy’s forge. With her back to him, she tucked the coin between her breasts. It felt cool right where it came to rest. The blacksmith’s was just down the road, toward the end of town.

“My friends are going to wonder what I am doing with you. They’ll recognize you as the knight that came here with the King’s men. Your reception will be cool at best. At worst?” She shrugged, “You really don’t want to know.”

Much like he had done with her, impulsively she grabbed his hand and tugged him down the road to Nigel’s.

“NIGEL! WHERE ARE YOU?”

They stepped just inside the lean to. Cat was about to holler again when Nigel came in from the back.

“CATHERINE!”

His stern, yet concerned look traveled the length of her body. Making sure, no doubt that she was whole and in one piece. Cat winced slightly at the use of her full name. She was in trouble with Nigel and she knew it. Hopefully, Nigel didn’t give her a piece of his mind while Leyton was standing right there with her.

“I’m fine Nigel. I swear it. You remember this knight, yes?”

Nigel’s eyes were still fastened on her, making her edgy, but at her words, he tossed a brief glance in the knight’s direction. It was his only acknowledgement of the man at this time.

“Nigel, one man got away and has probably already reported back to the King. There is no way of knowing what the King is going to do now but we need to be prepared. For anything. Nigel, this is Sir Leyton Delmar formally of the King’s Guard. Sir Delmar, this is Nigel, not only our esteemed blacksmith but also the spokesman for our village.”

Nigel, to his credit, returned his attention to Sir Delmar. His voice was gruff as he spoke next.

“Delmar. What brings you back to our humble village? I would have thought you would have returned to the King’s side by now.”


Nigel's lack of decorum showed in how he spoke to Leyton.




The sun had barely risen, spreading its rays across the earth and found Sir Westley in the saddle, his cloak settling around him. His eyes scanned the men in front of them. Ten in all. The King felt any more than that would be a waste of his resources. It was a simple peon’s village after all. Surely just a show of his men would be enough to keep them in line. Sir Westley wasn’t so sure. He turned his horse and started away from the castle grounds. The men fell in behind him. They rode in silence. Each man, with the exception of Westley, wordlessly wondered where they were going and what would be expected of them. Some of them knew this road. They had traveled it before in search of coin for the King. Each man held his own counsel awaiting Westley to enlighten them. Dust from the horses rose behind them. The sun rose over their shoulders. When the sun was at its zenith, Westly lifted his hand and his men stopped behind him. Sir Westly turned his horse to face them all.

“The King has ordered us to a village to exact his justice. They have refused to pay money to their King. We go to get it and to capture a knight and bring him back to the King for a hearing if this knight has taken refuge in this village. If not, we are to find out if any of them know his whereabouts.”

He chose to leave out the information that he could exact any means to achieve the end. Satisfied that his men knew all they needed to know, he turned his horse and continued forth. Sir Leyton Delmar. Westly was aware of him. He didn’t know the knight at all except to acknowledge his presence whenever needed. Still, he didn’t relish bringing in one of his own. They both had taken sworn oaths to their King. They were knights and knights belonged to the brotherhood. Still, if Delmar had gone rogue….

Westley ordered his men to arm up as the village came into sight. His first order of business was to find out about Delmar. Sir Westley pressed his horse into a trot as they got closer to the village. He, himself, unbound the pommel of his sword in readiness. As they drew into the village, Westley held up his hand again and once more the men behind him drew their horses to a halt and waited. The only sound that could be heard is the occasional creak from saddles. Westly looked around. The hair on the back of his neck tickled him as he rested his palms lightly on the pommel of his saddle. There was no one about in the center of the village.

They knew.

The thought came to his mind. Someone had warned them.

“Delmar! Come out. I know you are here.”

How else would they have known? How much had they prepared for? How had they prepared? Westley sat up straighter in his saddle. His hands, however, remained where they were, at rest. His voice carried to all the closest buildings.

“Delmar! Show yourself. My men are going to start searching the buildings, one by one unless you show yourself.”

And then Westley waited…..

Following Cat down the dirt road to the blacksmith wasn’t the most unpleasant thing. It had a nice view of her hips swinging and her hand wrapped around his was sending some surprisingly pleasant vibes through his body. As they headed into the small space, she yelled, and the mountain of a man appeared from the back. She had warned him of a possible cool reception, but this man was just a few tones shy of hostile when he spoke to Leyton.

“I’ve enjoyed the hospitality I have missed being outside of the capital for a while now.”

He gestured toward Cat.

“I have such wonderful company as well. She tells me some good things about you sir, I hope that during my time here we may share a pint or two.”

Leyton grimaced a bit as he mulled the other question over in his head. This man was someone who he should seek to be friends with. Not only was he important to the town, but he was also important to Cat as well. For some reason, he felt that was something of growing importance. He let his eyes linger on Cat for a moment, he hoped she was feeling the same growing feelings he was.

“The king has no need for men who answer to more than coin. As long as the King betrays the people of this kingdom and breaks the oaths of his Knights I welcome the path that leads away from his side.”

He stood his shoulders squared and his eyes watching Nigel’s reaction, he could show no weakness with this man. A man yelling from the direction of the village square broke their contest of wills. Leyton heard his name called out, damn the king had sent men already. He instinctively grabbed for his blade, his hand on the pommel as he ran. He charged down the streets, he was unaware even if Cat or Nigel had followed him, but he wasn’t about to let anyone in the village is harmed because he didn’t answer a summons. He felt a familiar tension in his guts, he knew today wouldn’t end without bloodshed, he only hoped it wouldn’t take too much to.

Nigel stepped from the depth of his forge, wiping his hands on an old rag that had seen better days. He wore a heavy apron, his chest glistening with sweat from the exertions of his current work. His arms were massive as was his chest. Definitely an intimidating figure.

“Girl, it’s about time you were back.”

His eyes shifted to the man at her side. They missed nothing, including her smaller hand entwined with this knight’s. As Leyton began to speak, Nigel’s eyes once more shifted to the other man’s face. As Leyton answered his question, Nigel remained silent, studying the knight for the truth of his words. He was just about to extend his hand toward Leyton when the shout reverberated through the village. Before either Nigel or Cat could say a word, the knight was running back toward the middle of town. Cat was right on his heels only she diverted at the church, heading inside and up the stairs that led to the loft. A bell hung there and the open portal provided a good view of the square below. She blended in with the shadows. Nigel was also not far behind Leyton. The King’s men had ridden into the village and spread out. The men of the village were not intimidated. They came out from their homes and businesses. They stood shoulder to shoulder in the small square, facing Westley and his men. Cat, in the tower, stood out of sight but still within hearing distance. She eased her bow from her shoulder, reaching behind her to draw an arrow from her quiver. The arrow was notched, but not yet pulled. Not yet.

Westley watched as the men of the village gathered. His eyes were fastened on the knight. The leather of his saddle creaked as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the pommel. His eyes were grey steel as he regarded his former brother-in-arms. He raised a forefinger and pointed at one of the men in front of them. A knight rode out from their ranks, unsheathing his sword as he moved forward toward the man Westley had pointed to. The knight stopped in front of the man, the tip of his sword pointed at the villager’s throat. A man on either side of Nigel made a small move of protest and were silenced by Nigel’s hand. They subsided.

“Explain yourself or this man will die as an example. Two men representing the Crown are dead by your hand or so it was reported. Do you deny it? I would have care with your words, Delmar. Your life depends upon it. The King is not happy by far. Not only are two of his men dead, but no coin from this village has been collected. If you answers do not ring well with me, you will be confined in chains and the Kingdom’s punishment will be yours.”

The silence in the square was pregnant with tension. The men of the village were taunt with it. The knights all rested a hand on their swords. No one moved. All were waiting for the errant knight to speak or act. No one in the village were under any kind of impression. In fact, most expected the worst. In either case, they had reached their fill. The King had taxed them beyond their ability to provide. There was nothing left to give even if they had wanted to, which they didn’t. The king’s subjects had had enough. There were two choices here. Back down or stand up to. The King was law and jury in his land. There wasn’t any doubt in the minds of these villagers. There was no room to back down.

In the church’s small tower, Cat waited. The arrow that waited in her bow was for the knight who had his sword pointed at Aaron. The second arrow she drew would be directed at Westley and she wouldn’t miss. It would seal her fate, she knew that. That mattered little to her. She was not afraid to die.

Leyton watched as the town square filled with people, they made an impressive stand against the king’s men, the situation could explode into violence at any minute. Tension rippled through him as the tip of a sword was placed at the innocent man’s throat, he felt the anger inside him stir and the compulsion to charge at the coward holding the other end. The one who was issuing orders was familiar to him, but Leyton couldn’t place him right away, but the man’s voice grated on his very soul. Leyton doubted anything he would say would appease this Knight, but silence would get the man killed.

“Sir…., forgive me I do not know your name. But no matter, I do not deny that I felled two yesterday, but I would deny that they were men. They were no better than the mongrels that feast on the trash of the city. I’m honestly surprised that the King would bother sending such a distinguished group of soldiers to deal with me. I mean, would you send your best men to deal with the man who put down your dogs that attacked an unarmed woman?”

He wanted to get their attention away from the villagers, he hoped being disrespectful would draw their ire, he didn't believe this day would end peacefully.
Leyton took stock of the men, five in total, three plus the leader on horseback and the one with his sword to the man. The horses made it harder, they gave them a huge advantage to a man on foot. The man on foot would be an easier target, however as soon as he moved to attack the other men would charge. He needed a plan and he needed one now. He felt the wind shift and some dust blew into his face. He turned away from the irritant and toward the center of town and the church that stood there. A flash of movement brought his eyes to the bell tower. Cat! She really was a clever girl and he smiled, having a well-placed archer could turn the tide of a battle quicker than anything. He drew his sword, as the blade scraped against the sheath a wave of movement spread through the crowd. The townsfolk anger and fear were almost palpable. He pointed his sword at the men on horseback, starting on the leftmost man and then the center one, then skipping over their leader, and onto the last man. He hoped Cat would take the clue and guess what he was saying.

“I can see this ending in one of three ways. Two of them require no violence, they also allow you all to live. The third, well I doubt the any of us really want that option. Option one, you all turn around and tell the King you killed the man who killed his dogs and we all live happily ever after. Option two, you return to the King and tell him that I fled the country and the last thing you found of me was my footprints crossing the border. Lastly, you all continue to threaten unarmed innocent men, you attack me, and I kill you all and drop your heads off at the city gates.”

Leyton turned his blade toward the man holding the villager hostage.

“A knight should be ashamed to threaten an innocent man, drop you blade and retain your honor or lose both.”

There was no time to fool with these men, either they would take the peaceful path, or they would die. The village wouldn’t be in any worse position. Leyton doubted that any of the men would hesitate to raze the village for the king’s honor. All he could do would be to hopefully keep as many of the townsfolk safe as he could.

She watched the square intently, paying close attention to Leyton’s movements. Clever man. Her lips quirked into a small smile and she waited.

“You are quite correct Delmar.”

Westley’s eyes narrowed upon the knight. Delmar’s words seemed to roll over all the knights present without effect.

“Seize him!”

Westley was quick to point at Leyton. Two armed knights, one from the right of Westley and one from the left of him, moved forward, after dismounting swiftly, to lay hands on Leyton. Cat, in her tower, raised her bow but waited for a signal from Leyton. The targets he wanted her to take out, were set in her mind. Everything now depended on the lone, rogue knight……

The villagers, unsure as to what to do, merely stood. They all looked to Nigel, who, as yet, did nothing. Nigel was waging his own private war in his mind. The town’s people owed no allegiance to this knight, though he had brought back Emily and Cat. Leyton’s words filtered through Nigel’s mind, yet, Nigel had to think of the town’s people who would suffer at the hands of the King’s men should the villagers do anything rash. He worried for Cat, knowing that the girl was capable of doing anything once she believed in someone but would she do so and bring trouble to the very village she loved so well?

“Come quietly Delmar and very little will happen to these people.”

Though Westley’s tone was even and unthreatening, there was a gleam in his eye. He was up to something, Cat felt it, but what?

Leyton's spine bristled as the knight spoke, his words sealed it, none of these men would be allowed to live past this evening. Watching as the men dismounted, Leyton couldn’t believe his luck, how dumb could these men be. They gave up a superior position so easily. They overestimate themselves. He quietly promised to never curse dumb luck again.

He waited till they cleared their horses, he hoped Cat had gotten the message. He rotated his foot, the knight seemed to grasp what he was about to do but it was too late. Turning while drawing his sword and clearing the distance between him and the man holding the sword to the man’s throat. He crossed the path of the knights, opening his side to a swipe from their blades. But the whistle of arrows behind him assured him of his safety. Every step seemed to take minutes, he could almost hear the path of the arrow as it cut the air behind him, the thunk of it finding it’s a mark and the sound of it’s of its quiver mate behind it. As Leyton raced into the striking distance the knight turned, his blue eyes flaring wide with fear as he struggled to get into a parrying stance. Too late. Leyton’s blade struck home. Unable to fully stop and using his momentum to swing himself around to face the remaining threat only to find the hooves of a war charger raised above him. The colossal beast brought its weight down, baring down on Leyton. A hand reached out from the village and yanked the errant knight to safety. Looking up the man who was held hostage stared down at him, a few of the town’s folk helped Leyton to his feet and he squared off against the mounted Knight. Staring past the Knight, three bodies cluttered the ground, all three with arrows sticking from their chest.

“I never got your name Sir….., well it doesn’t matter doe’s it. Do you want to die as badly as your men, or would you prefer to settle this like gentlemen?”

Leyton rolled his wrist, flexing his sword arm and preparing for the worse. He studied the situation, using his words to drag out time while attempting to find a way to dismount his opponent and at the least remove the advantage of the mount.