Upheaval and Change - Tales 17

Hawk came home exhausted that evening. Talking to the prisoner, and his sister had wiped him out. He still did not have his old stamina back, after the serious wounds. Now he was just glad to lay on the bed, and take Audrey in his arms, she was his sanity right now.

Audrey walked around the room, carefully looking over all her herbs, searching for a way to help the little princess whose sight had been robbed by a mysterious ailment. She stood on her toes and reached for a bottle that had eluded her grasp but suddenly felt someone behind her. With a smile she turned around and came face to face with her true love.

"You look very tired," she said softly.

"I am." he grabs the bottle for her. " Mother is not doing well, ro is not getting any better. Politics sucks..." He sighed. "Do you have any more herbs for my side, it still hurts like hell. And I have another long day tomorrow."

"Of course," Audrey said. "Go sit down and I'll get it ready. And you can tell me all about what has been going on."

He took his shirt off and winced." It seems my brother is seriously wounded, they are bringing him back to the castle. I would appreciate if you could have a look at him later on. Mother is not doing well at all, I want you to look at her to. And tomorrow I have to decide about a man's life, and I do not know what to do. I don't like ruling at all, my love."

"I know you don't like ruling," Audrey said, leaning down and examining the wounds. "But you are doing a good job of it. And your family will be fine and as for your prisoner..." Audrey trailed off. "That is a decision you must make yourself."

He winced as she touched the wounds. "Are you sure Ro will be well again? It has been such a long time, and still she cannot see."

"These things take time but with prayer and hope then anything is possible," she said. But the words trailed off and left silence until Hawk decided to change the subject.

"Audrey, very soon I want to tell my family that you and I are getting married, and then I want to plan it."

"Are you sure it's wise?" she asked. "With all the fighting going on and all the work you have been doing, I wouldn't want to add to your stress any more."

"I am very sure. Having you next me as my wife, is all I want for myself. And believe me it will take away a lot of my stress. Auw!" He called out then she touched a tender spot.

Audrey tsked as he flinched. "This is still sore? I know a special technique that should make that better in no time," she said with a smile. She leaned down and gave the spot a quick kiss. "See, all better." She said with a smile before she reached over for some cool water to put on the spot.

Before she could reach the water, Hawk had pulled her down with him. "All better now," he said. "But I am afraid I will need more of this to help me through the night, my lady."

"Ah," Audrey replied, raising an eyebrow. "I see indeed. Alas if only all treatments were this much fun," she said with a smile.

King Hawk's throneroom...

When a messenger arrived unexpectedly with a message for him from the Arch-Druid, Hawk was quite surprised since this was the first time he would see the Arch-Druid in person, having only heard about him from his father. "What is the message?", he enquired from the man.

The messenger replied, "The message is this, my liege ..." He opened a roll of parchment and cleared his throat before continuing, "Hail King Hawk. I hope you are well and in good health. I have taken an interest in Sir Amlyn's path and will arrive shortly to find out personally how he is faring. The blessings of the gods be with you. Yours sincerely... Eruic, Arch-Druid of Abertawe." He closed the message and handed it to the king for inspection of the seal.

Hawk looked at the message. It was good to have the Arch-Druid here again. The people needed guidance, and he looked forward to meeting the druid. Yet it made him feel an little nervous as well, Hawk was determined to try to save Amlyn and he hoped that the druid would support him in this. But of course he could not be sure of it. He send a message back, asking the druid to come visit him as soon as he arrived.

The messenger took the parchment from the king, bowed and left immediately. Hawk gave orders for preparations to be made for the Arch-Druid's arrival.

The next day ...

The Arch-Druid entered the throne room, followed by his entourage. As he approached the King, he removed the hood of his cloak to reveal his young face.

Hawk looked at him and, not letting the surprise show on his face, he stood and approached the Arch-Druid with respect. "Welcome, father. I am honored to receive you in my home." He saw old wisdom behind the young eyes.

Eruic smiled, "Thank you, King Hawk. Shall we take a walk?" As they walked, Eruic continued," Tell me, how fares Sir Amlyn. I have heard strange rumors. Could you shed some light on them?"

Hawk proceeded to tell Eruic everything he knew about Amlyn's situation. When Hawk finished, Eruic asked, "Where is he now? I would like to see him."

"He is a guest in the palace. Not a prisoner, so you are free to see him. But tell me father, what is your impression of him?" The King asked.

"I only talked to him on one occasion, but it was wartime. He struck me as a deep soul. One with shadows that he needs to work out himself. But I foresaw great things in his future, things that I take great interest in. In some paths his decisions are of great necessity to the Kingdom of Abertawe."

"We think alike, father. It is what I saw two. Therefore I have offered him the protection of the palace. Maybe if we work together, you and I , we can save him." Hawk said pensively.

"No, not save him, king Hawk, but support him. He has to save himself, or he will not feel complete. He needs to work out that which keeps him from becoming great and he needs to free himself." Eruic replied.

"That sounds good." The King said. "I suggest then that you and I help him with this as much as we can. Make the path a little bit easier."

Hawk was still waiting for the captain of the guard to see him after her meeting with Amlyn, but after having spoken to the knight himself, he knew he could not wait. He wanted to make sure that the knight had a fair chance, so he decided to send his captain along. He knew he could trust her to be fair.

So he called for one of his servants. "Get me the captain of the guard as soon she has time." He called out.

It wasn't long before the captain strode quickly into the hall, lowering herself to one knee. "You wished to see me, sir?"

"Yes. I was wondering if you can tell me some more about Sir Amlyn now. I know you have seen him. What is your opinion of him?" Upon seeing the instant frown that swept across her face, the king was certain her impression hadn't been a good one.

"He is an impertinent, rash fool," she spat without thinking. Biting her lip, she tried to measure her words. She was before the king, after all. "He has admitted to all that the Order claims of him, but not without regret. It seems he was born in Dinodig, yet raised in Llydaw, which accounts for his fighting for their army."

"To be honest, my lord, I do not like the man." She blushed, certain that much was clear with her first outburst. "I think he is a fool, ready to be martyred because of his self-pity and self-loathing." She stopped suddenly, blinking. Wasn't that just how she arrived in this fair province - looking for a way to die?

Shaking her head, she chose her next words more carefully. "Yet I do not agree with the Order's accusations of him. They call him a traitor, when he fought where his loyalties should, and must lie. They stoop to levels that no true noble should," she added strongly, the torn and bloody gown of Amlyn's mother still fresh in her mind. "This is the impression I recieved, sire," she concluded, bowing again.

"That is clear, and it is what I expected from you. I want to ask you something, my lady. He is going to face the order tomorrow, I could not stop him. I have a feeling that they want to kill him, and whatever he did, I do not think he deserves that. I would like to ask you to go with him, and to keep him safe on my authority. I know it is a lot to ask, so just tell me if you do not want to do it." He finished.

The captain's face was measured calm, yet Hawk could see her jaw tightening involuntarily. "Then you wish to stop the fight completely? Or simply keep him from being killed?" She spoke almost analytically, as if trying to find the best angle to approach the matter.

"Surely to keep him from being killed. I leave it to your discretion what you do. Try to talk to these people, try to get them to agree to a compromise. And then bring him back to me." The King said.

She lowered her head in deferrance. "As you wish, my lord." The idea left a bad taste in her mouth, but she bowed and slipped through the door.

The Order waited for him past the edge of the city walls. Nia's errand on the previous night had been carried out to the letter, and they knew of his arrival. Pennants and banners of the order lay limp and feeble about the field of tourney with the lack of wind, but the five knights that lined the edge were rested, determined and filled with eager purpose. Perhaps not all for the same reason, but eager nevertheless.

Amlyn arrived alone. He had been careful to avoid the more travelled routes through the city, and then waited long enough to know that Nia would not be coming. Which meant that she had fulfilled the duty he had given her, and kept the Captain of the Guard sufficiently busy for long enough to complete his task. He knew that she would be less than happy about the diversion, but they had not parted on particularly friendly terms anyhow. More wood for the fire, he thought. Similarly, at last nights meeting with Ciaran, he told him to be ready in three days time. A calculated lie, to save the young man from making mistakes similar to his own. His deceptions, in his own mind, were necessary, but would cost him perhaps dearly. It seemed he was always committing sins to stay ahead of the encroachment of the past

Before reaching the field, he dismounted and led his horse to a tree off to one side. Having accepted their challenge, he had then set the conditions: their fight would be unordered melee, on foot. He paced slowly accross the grassy field, past the assembled entourage of the Orders followers, to stand some distance away from the knights, good hand resting on the belt of his scabbard. 'To be anyplace now but here', he thought. He could not find the anger within, for it kept slipping away from his grasp like the squirming of an eel.

One by one, the knights of the Order removed the hoods of their cloaks from their faces. Amlyn recognised Earl Cynrain first, but did not feel any hatred or spite for the man. He had suffered much during the war, and most likely pursued him through the desire for vengeance. Most of the other knights he did not remember. But when the last knight removed her hood, his breath caught in his throat. It felt as if someone had stabbed him through the heart.

Lady Melangell looked at him with sadness in her eyes. Earl Cynrain began to wax lyrical with regards to crimes and injustices against the province of Dinodig, more for the benefit of the assembled retinue. But Sir Amlyn did not hear him, for he relived rich memories of past failure that had materialised in front of his eyes.

In particular, he remembered the last time he had seen her. She was standing alone, by the side of the woods with the few possessions she could carry in a pile at her feet. A thick cloth cape covered her from neck to toe, leaving her head exposed and her pale skin tinged with red from the bite of a cold wind. She waited for the escort to arrive to take her home, watching him turn to leave. Either confused, grateful, or deep in thoughts of spite and hatred: which one, if any, he had never known. Despite the promise of an early end to bloodshed and a marriage of significant political magnitude, he realised that a bird trapped in a cage is always destined to sicken and die. No amount of kindness or generosity had softened her resistence or her determination to fight against the consequences a life with him would impose. Setting her free had been one of the hardest things he had ever had to do.

Lost in reminiscence, he almost didn't notice that the Earl had finished and was dismounting from his horse. The other knights did the same, and started moving outwards to roughly enclose him in a half-circle. Lady Melangell remained close by the Earl's side.

"You are the last of the cursed forsaken, 'Sir' Amlyn. Even ministrels will avoid songs of your fate, for to mention your name will be to invite scorn and anger from their audience at the least, and disaster and misfortune otherwise," said Cynrain, in a lowered voice clearly for their own ears only. "Now is the time that you shall suffer the same pain and agony that ye have caused countless others. The one god's righteousness will be applied to you with no mercy-" he said, taking a step forward, "-as it was applied to she who enacted your escape from the beginning."

Amlyn closed his eyes and gripped the hilt of his sword with his good arm. He slowly began to pull it free, and as the scabbard gave up it's evil, he felt the rage within build up to bursting point as the tip came free. He opened his eyes, blinked, and found the point of his sword against the delicate throat of Lady Melangell.

There was screaming and shouting from all around him. He could dimly make out the headless corpse of Sir Blaen behind him to his left, and through a woman's long wail he heard the moaning of a wounded man behind him. Somewhere from the back of his mind he knew that the other two knights fared no better, but he could not remember why. Lady Melangell had not moved an inch from the beginning, and her sword still lay asleep in it's sheath. She radiated confidence. He ignored the Order's shattered retinue, as they began to pick up what pieces he had left for them.

"Thou can not submit to the beast," said Lady Melangell. "For ye know of what it does to thee and how it fills your heart with despair and blackness."

The point of Amlyn's sword wavered, blood slowly dripping out from between his fingers as it trickled down his sword.

"Do you wish to add another nightmare to the collection in your mind? Do you wish to continue along your path, haunted all the while by the ghosts of those you have sent screaming into the next life?"

Amlyn was gradually aware of the noise of blood rushing furiously to and from his head. His body was beginning to tremble as the adrenelin began to fade. He looked into her eyes and saw a light that he knew he could not extinguish. He had never seen it before in her, and its power almost stunned him.

"Your mother is dead, my lord. But despite what the Earl has said, not by our hand, or from our inaction. In a moment of wickedness, he has sought to use that against you. She was revealed when your identity and the means of your release became known, and a mob set upon her before anyone could act. I knew her for her kindness and her faith, and I always carry that with me. I too grieve for your loss, but I also know that she is in the hands of a higher power, and she suffers no longer."

His arm began to tremble. The old wound in his leg flowed freely now, coating it in a slick torrent like the smoothness of the Order's blood across his blade.

"Yield to me, Sir Amlyn." She pushed past his blade and gently laid her hand on the side of his cheek. "Yield to me, so that we can lay the man you used to be to rest."

"I... I..." Her compassion overwhelmed him. The warmth in her hand melted his skin like the warmth in her eyes melted his soul. His rage shrivelled and curled up, receding like shadows banished by the light from a lantern.

In return, Lady Melangell could see his pain. She now knew for certain that Amlyn had never reached out for help. He must have thought that none could ever be offered to him. 'God forgives all,' she thought, 'and thus so must I.'

"Please," she said again. "Trust me. It has been too long to trust I know, but it is not impossible. It is the first step for forgiveness." She placed her other hand on the bloody grip, seeking to gently prise the black blood-covered sword from his grasp.

Amlyn let it fall to the ground. "I yield to thee," he said, in a tired voice that wavered.

Lady Melangell lowered the hand from his cheek and smiled gently at him, pressing down on his shoulder. "Kneel for the last time, Sir Amlyn." Amlyn slowly knelt before her, his wounds now screaming loudly from the exertion. He could hardly breathe, both with the pain and with the emotions he was feeling. Memories of years of fighting flashed through his mind: of bloody battles, of glinting swords and burning buildings, of the bodies that never seemed to stop piling up by his hand.

Lady Melangell slowly drew a long dagger from her belt.Lady Melangell leant down over Amlyn and placed the tip of the dagger inside the neck of his surcoat.

She began to gently cut down through the fabric, see-sawing the blade around the edge of the red tau cross. "Thou shall not wear such a charge ever again, Sir Amlyn. Many look upon it in fear, hence you shall take on another of your own choosing." She cut the last strip of dyed wool away, and then began to cut down both sleeves. "Thou shall also not wear black as either an ordinary or as thy clothing." The material came away with a slight tear, leaving the leather armour underneath intact. "Black will only serve to remind you of the colour of your actions and of the death you have brought upon others as a result." She put the dagger away and knelt down in front of him, taking up the strips of wool to bind a bandage around his leg.

As she worked, she continued to speak to him in a hushed, soft tone. Amlyn hung on her every word, lost in each syllable as he was lost in the closeness of her presence and her scent that surrounded him. The world had compacted into a very small space.

"Your name is who you are, my lord. I cannot take that from you, but it is all that must remain. Will you rid yourself of your shield as I have asked?"

"Aye," he said numbly.

She smiled at him and continued. "Thou must never kill wantonly or without some greater purpose for good, ever again. Thou will seek out the cause of good, and seek no reward or boon in return for thy service. Thou shall always render assistance to those who suffer injustice or seek to perform acts of charity, regardless of the station of those that would request it. Do you swear?"

"Are you happy?" said Amlyn. He had noticed the band of gold on her finger, as she brought the ends of the strips of cloth together in a knot.

She stopped, and looked more closely at him. "It is so," she said, placing her hand on his good arm to give a gentle squeeze. "My husband is a kind man who grants me his love and follows a path of light."

Amlyn fell silent for a moment that seemed to stretch on endlessly. "I am sorry," he finally said. "For everything. I wish that things were different," he added. "Fate is always an issue considered after it is too late to change things."

"Shhh," said Lady Melangell. "Your fate is not yet sealed. Do as I ask of you and you may yet overcome your destiny. Promise me."

He nodded. "For you, I swear to carry out all ye have asked, on my honor."

Lady Melangell rose to her feet, and released the buckle on the scabbard that hung by her side. "Take my sword, and I shall take yours," she said, handing the sword to Amlyn. In return, he offered up his own blade, and staggered to his feet to undo the black scabbard from around his waist. "I must return to Dinodig-" she paused, looking about her as the retinue worked frantically. "-and tell of what has happened here. I do not believe that the family and friends of those slain here today will accept what I have to say. But perhaps I can convince those whose influence really matters that you may yet change. Your sword and your word will certainly help."

"Were they friends of thee, my lady?" Amlyn was suddenly filled with remorse. He cared not before for their deaths, for they had come all this way to raise their weapons against him. But he had not contemplated that they were companions of Lady Melangell.

"They were comrades, but we all knew the risk. More than anything else, the cause drove them onwards. And at the end I could not share their... enthusiasm. It has cost us all dearly, for in the end it divided us. But the blame is not yours." She accepted the scabbard Amyln gave to her and sheathed his black sword. "I will pray for them."

Amlyn found his eyes going blurry, and thought the loss of blood had affected his vision. "Will thou stay till the morrow?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

Lady Melangell frowned. "Would that I may, but I feel we have already overstayed our welcome. We had best begin the trip back." She took a step closer to Amlyn, and looked up him. The importance of her next words were clearly reflected in her eyes. "You have perhaps six months, more or less my lord, before the Order may return to complete the task that their leader has failed with. What ye may do between now and then is perhaps the most important actions you may ever undertake in your life."

Amlyn exhaled slowly and realised that the blurriness was tears. "Curse my weakness," he protested. "It seems I would gladly give up those six months if I could spend but a day with thee. Married or not, thou art even more pure and gentle of heart than when we first met, if such a thing were possible."

Melangell took Amlyn's head with both hands and pulled it down gently, planting a kiss on his forehead. "It is my turn to be sorry," she said, taking up his hand in both of hers. "But I cannot stay regardless of any sacrifice thou would make." She did her best to give him a smile. "I shall endeavour to return however, should the Order seek to come here again."

Resigned to her departure, Amlyn did not have the courage to take up her hand and return the kiss, lest he fall to weeping like an old widowed mother. "So be it. I shall endeavour to fulfil all that ye have tasked upon me," he said finally.

"Fare thee well, Sir Amlyn. Thou art newly born to the world. Make good of it, and you will be taken care of."

"Goodbye," said Amlyn weakly. As she pulled her hand away from his, it was like she dragged a piece of him with it. For as she walked away, he felt broken and incomplete inside. He watched her muster up some servants and begin giving orders, until finally he collected enough wits to stagger over to his horse. Upon reaching it, he found that he didn't even have enough strength to lift himself into the saddle. Tired beyond measure, he collapsed underneath the tree and began to doze fitfully. Whereupon he was found by Nia, his squire.

Rowena nodded and clung to Isa. Isa looked to her son. Why would they hang Rowena's papa? No one had yet told her that Rowena's rescuer and Isa's kidnapper were one and the same.

"Mother, he is the man who captured you, and tried to capture rowena. He is not totally evil, I talked to him, and part of me feels sorry for him. I don't know what to do with him, but I will not hang him." Her son said.

"He didn't capture me." Rowena said looking up. "He found me hurt!" Her little voice defended him adamantly.

"But he meant to capture you. He was paid to do that." Hawk said gently. "Ro, I am not saying he is a bad man. He really love see you now. But he did not at the beginning of this."

Rowena was confused and clung tigher to Isa. Her tears began to flow in earnest. Nothing was making sense to the little girl.

"It is OK sweetheart." Her mother said, not sure how she felt herself. But she trusted her son's judgment. "Hawk is not going to hurt him. If your daddy did something bad, he must be punished for it, just as you are when you do something bad. But your brother will not kill him, he promised you." She held the little girl close.

Rowena was scared, really scared. Her world that she was just coming to know again, was turning upside down. Her head hurt something awful and her tears would not stop. The room swam when she looked up at her brother and saw.. .SAW his shape. She shrieked and went limp in her mama's arms.

Hawk and Isa were both alarmed at that. Isa held the little girl close. "Ro? Ro darling, are you ok?"

Rowena didn't answer, she had gone completely limp in her mother's arms. She hadn't expected to see and having done so. The large shape of her brother had been unexpected and too much for the distraught little girl.

Hawk noticed her distress. "Little one, do i scare you? Do you want me to leave." He said very gently.

"I can see you." She whispered. "You are so big. You didn't used to be so big?"

Mother and son spoke at the same time. "You can see! You can really see." Isa Was crying with joy. " my little one, I am so happy."

Hawk smiled. "I do not think that I have gotten any bigger. It is you who have grown, Little Princess." He took some distance because he did not want to frighten her anymore.

"I can see like.. a shadow." Rowena looked up at her mother. "But it is very blurry?" She touched her mother's face. "It is better close like this." She whispered.

"I am so glad." She kissed the top off rowenas head. "You are going to be fine now."

"I think I had better go now, mother." Hawk whispered, he did not want to frighten her anymore.

Rowena snuggled closer to her mother, truly seeking comfort and solace for the first time. Her little hands were curled tightly around her mother's neck, her face buried against her kirtle.

Her mother just held her, feeling so happy that she was crying herself. Hawk was smiling when he left the room.

Lady Quarra strode down the streets of the city musing on her adventures with the Army. She was glad to be past that, for now. Soon the forces of Nethbo would try again to take over Abertawe. She would need to be ready. She was still Knight of Innocence. Which was good, seeing as she was unsure if she was qualified for the position anymore.

A young girl came around the corner at great speed, barrelling into her and falling to the cobblestones in a sobbing heap. "I'm...I'm sorry, ex-excuse me... please," she whimpered, heel of her hand pressed into her forehead. Quarra could see that the fingers were covered in blood. As was the front of the girl's surcoat. The girl tried to scramble to her feet.

Quarra stooped to help the girl up, "What is the matter, little one?" she asked.

Nia paused for a moment and tried to look again at the woman, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She held her fingers fanned out away from her, like a child that had immersed its hands in something sticky. She saw the armour and the weapon that Quarra bore, and said, "I need help! M-my lord is injured, and I cannot support him on to his horse, or... or help h-him walk very far. I left him to get some ass-istance," she stammered.

Quarra nodded, "Let's see if I can help him. Take me to him."

Nia quickly led Lady Quarra back the way she had come, winding through the streets and alleyways until arriving at the west gate to the capital. She passed through the gate, not bothering to even acknowledge the guards, and veered north into the fields, where several large white pavillions had been set up. A horse had been tied up to a tree off to one side. As they got closer, Quarra could see someone sitting under the tree. Nia headed over to whoever it was.

"My lord!" she shouted, "I have brought someone!'

There was no answer from the knight. He lay with his back against the tree, a scabbard and sword across his lap. She could have almost mistaken him for being asleep, were it not for the blood that soaked his leg and coated his arm. His skin had the pale whiteness of death about it.

Quarra ran over to see if he was indeed dead. It did not look good to the young female knight. And the older knight was as still as the morning dawn. Quarra was saddened by this sight, as the young squiress depended on him for her livelihood.

"My lord?..." said Nia, hesistant and fearful.

Amlyn opened his eyes slowly. "Aye?" he said.

Nia sighed in relief. "I thought you were-"

"Dead?" he interrupted. "Nay, not yet. Not today, I'd wager." He shifted his eyes to look at Quarra. "I am sorry to have cause to bother thee, my lady. All I need is some assistance to get on yonder horse."

Quarra nodded, "Okay, sir Knight. I can help you to get on that horse."

Amlyn held out his good arm, yet retracted it as quickly as it had been extended. He saw the pommel of a large sword strapped to her back, and the crest of a diamond across her chest. "My apologies, but it seems I have just seen whom ye really are, for perhaps the first time. Thou art one of Abertawe's knights?"

Quarra nodded, "I am the Knight of Diamond. Not a highly recognizable face, as I am still learning the position, but I will do my best for Laerme."

Amlyn slowly shifted position against the tree, making himself somewhat more comfortable, but drawing a grimace as a result. "Of what significance is the diamond that thou wears?" he asked.

Quarra blushed, "It is the badge of the Knight of Innocence. I am the youngest of the Knights, so I guess they thought I could fill that role. I do it as well as I can."

"You could not be the youngest," said Sir Amlyn. "The high knight of fire is at least several years your junior. Regardless of which, I find the title of 'knight of innocence' strange..."

"My lord, we must really get you to your horse," said Nia, more than a little concerned. Someone had re-bandaged the wounds that he bore, but she was still desperate to take him to a healer.

Amlyn glanced at Nia and saw the anxiety present in her expression. For some reason he felt in no hurry to leave this spot. Off to his left, the servants of the Order of the White Shield hurried about on tasks that he had help create for them. Occasionally, some would stop to watch him warily. He felt exhausted and empty, the rage having long faded and gone. But he knew that his reluctance to leave was only because Lady Melangell was still there. And he was still coming to terms with the fact that she was, and had always been, unobtainable.

He sighed. "I am sorry, Knight of Diamond. I waste your time with questions that are best left unspoken."

Quarra smiled warmly, "It is no problem. I myself am sometimes confused as to how to remain the Knight of Innocence forever. How does one keep their innocence when all the world is against that?" She shook her head, "Now, milord, we need to get you on your horse, and to a healer. If that is what you want."

"Aye," he said, taking one last look at the pavillions of white. "There is no point remaining here for any longer." He offered up a hand, and between Lady Quarra and Nia, they had enough strength to get him into the saddle. Nia took hold of the reins.

"I thank thee greatly," he said. "I am Amlyn, son of Berach. May I know thy name?"

"I am Quarra inghean uí Maeve, sir Knight."

He nodded. "Was thou at Tamith on the border, when the armies of Nethbo attacked?"

"Close by it. I was with the army when we repulsed the attackers."

Amlyn looked thoughtful for several moments. "I do not envy the title thou has been bestowed with. It seems that only the newly born or very young could claim to be truly innocent, before the many depravations of the world conspire to mark their soul." He pondered a while longer. "Perhaps that is who you may truly represent... not an ideal in itself, but as a protector of those who cannot fend truly for themselves."

Quarra nodded, "Mayhaps that is so. I will strive to do that, as well, now that I think of it."

"It is but a suggestion," said Amlyn. "If it helps thee to come to an understanding with one's purpose, then all the better." He nodded to Nia. "I wish you well Lady Quarra, and I thank thee again for your help. I will endeavour to return the favour should it ever be needed."

Quarra bowed (curtseying in armor was difficult), and said, "Thank you, kind sir. I will endeavor to help you all that I can."

Nia curtsied as she led the horse past Lady Quarra. "Thank you my lord," she said gratefully. Horse, knight and squire then slowly made their way up a gentle slope to the western gates of the capital.

Quarra hoped that the knight was okay. Things could sprial out of control if it was discovered that one of the knigts of Abertawe was injured. But such things happened rather often in the life of battling knights. Now, Quarra had to get back to her studies. And preparing herself for the next time the Nethbians attacked.

Bronwen walked along the lake. Earlier, Jon had taken her riding. It had been a pleasant ride. Sanglet had gone out of his way to be entertaining and charming. Yet, she could not find it within herself to be happy. Deep inside, she knew that his charm was only there as long as she pleased him. What if she ever didn't. Would he hit her? Would he still kill Seth? Beset with worries, she sat down on a small log and began to cry.

Seth had been out and about as well and suddenly heard crying. He thought he recognized the sound of the crying since he had unfortunately heard the love of his life cry before. He followed the sound and saw her sitting on a log and weeping. He approached her quietly and said, "Nothing should ever trouble such a beautiful angelic princess such as yourself to the point where you would be crying."

Bronwen looked up horrified. She had thought herself alone. She jumped to her feet, dashing away the tears. "Seth? What are you doing here?"

"I am sorry to of startled you. I heard a crying so I came to see what was the matter and I saw it was you so I decided to see what was troubling you so, "he said with a look of concern.

"I .. I just have a bout of melancholy." She managed to sputter weakly.

He knew she wasn't telling the truth, but decided not to say so. He simply asked, "You are all right otherwise though?"

"Yes,." She managed. She looked up at his concerned expression. "No!" she burst into tears and sat down burying her face in her hands.

He sat next to her and said, "If there's anything I can do, even just let you cry on my shoulder I'll do it for you. I'd like it if you could just talk to me though." He tried to be consoling.

She turned to him and let him hold her. She cried as if her heart had truly broken. She could not tell him why and yet she did not want him to leave either.

She turned to him and let him hold her. She cried as if her heart had truly broken. She could not tell him why and yet she did not want him to leave either.

He kissed the top of her head and said, "It's all right. If you don't want to tell me then I can just hold you," he held her in a warm embrace.

Bronwen cried herself out within her arms. Finally her cries subsided to soft sobs. "I have gotten your tabard wet." She managed to sob tearfully.

He grinned and said,"I'll count it as a blessing that such an angel would wet my tabard." He smiled encouragingly and still had a concerned look.

A wavering smile crossed her face. "Thank you." She uttered and realizing he was still holding her, started to pull away.

He let her pull away not wanting to force anything upon her. "You have no need to pull away, though I will not stop you. I have a bit of quite amazing news or at least amazing to me."

"What is your news." She said, pushing her damp and loosened hair from her face.

"Well, my training is going well and I am actually training with a weighted cloak. The other news would be that your brother and I have had many conversations lately. I had no idea he was going to be married soon. He knows of our situation and he expresses his encouragement in you and I courting, "He smiled knowing this might not change things, but it might get her thinking.

Bronwen was quite for a long moment. "I am happy your training goes well. As for us, I have told you it is not meant to be." She had to force the words out. He could tell that her heart was not in them.

He knew she was just saying that. "Those are just words you are saying right now. You don't believe that one bit and you know it. I know it too. "He was not getting upset, just making a point.

She looked away from him guiltily. What could she tell him? If she told him truth, he would challenge Sanglet. IF he won, he would be punished. If he lost, he would be dead. She could not stomach either direction.

"If you are afraid I will do something rash at what you say then you apparently haven't seen the level of self-control I have. The squire training I have been having has increased it. I am not sure why you do not tell me. "He had a pleading in his voice.

"I cannot." She finally admitted. "I cannot tell thee."

"Will one of us be harmed if you do? "He asked trying to get something.

Her eyes flew up to his in alarm. "I did not say that." She saw Seth searching her face and realized her actions just had.

"I will tell no one, but I suggest going to your brother since he could easily protect you and I. If this is not possible then we shall find another way. You have no need to keep any secrets from me. You have told me all I require to know unless you feel comfortable actually speaking the rest." He was calm, but irritated she had waited so long to do anything.

Bronwen panicked. "NO, no one must know. I must go." She got up in a total panic and headed for her horse.

He ran over and stopped her. "If that is so then so be it. I will tell no one. I love you more than my life. Please tell me that you feel close to or the same way. "He looked her strait in the eyes trying not to get too emotional.

She looked up at him. Her eyes were wide and fearful The stain of tears still tread down her face. "I love you and I always will." She whispered. "But it cannot be."

He looked at her and said, "Love finds a way. So shall ours, this I swear. I will make sure not to reveal it so as to protect you."

She reached up and touched his face. "Who said it was I that needed protecting." She whispered. Her eyes filled with tears once again.

He put his hand to her cheek and said, "I will be a knight soon my love. I know Sanglet is behind this, but he must have some leverage. I will not ask what it is, but I need to find some way to make everything safe."

She looked at him worriedly. "I would rather marry Sanglet then know that you are not numbered amongst the living." She confessed.

"Be assured, I will not die. Until you and I are together I will not die. "He kissed her deeply knowing tis may be his last chance. He would pull away if she did though.

Bronwen returned his kiss. Her tumultuous emotions lent passion to her kiss. Her hands clasped behind his head, pulling it down more firmly to hers.

He went along with her and put his hands behind her head expressing all of the passion he had bottled up inside of himself.

Bronwen's fear and panic dissipated as his lips warmed hers. The tension went out of her body at the tender touch of his hands. She knew she should not kiss him, someone was most likely watching her for Sanglet. But she could not bring herself to stop it.

He moved close to her and deepened the kiss by ways of slipping his tongue into her mouth. At this point she was the only one in his world.

Bronwen finally broke the kiss. "I - I should go." She whispered inches from his lips.

"I know, but do you have to? "He asked wanting to feel her close to him again.

She looked at the love and pleading in his eyes. "We are in the open. Someone might see and .. I could not bear it. if.. " Her eyes filled with tears again.

"Then can we meet again I know a place where no one can spy. I beg of you my love, "He pleaded with pure love in his eyes and heart.

She knew she shouldn't. She should leave and not let him see her again. But she found herself nodding and agreeing to meet him. "Where and when?" She whispered.

He whispered into her ear,"It's in a cave and there is a sight you should see in it. It is about half a mile west of the waterfall. just go from the waterfall directly west and you cannot miss it. I will have it hidden, but I will signal you. I suppose you had best go my love. I will see you there tomorrow?"He hoped it would work out.

She nodded and kissed him hurriedly. She turned to leave and stopped and came back to him. "Promise me you will do nothing between now and then? Promise me you be there?" She said worriedly, searching his face.

He gave her a serious look and said,"I swear on my honor I will not do anything between now and then and I will be there.

She nodded and hurried off to find her horse. Within minutes she had mounted her horse and fled back to the palace. She felt eyes everywhere and her heart beat furiously till she was safely back within the palace walls.

Ciaran sat back up on the tower, deep in thought. He chided himself for his brash behaviour, he was sure Lord Iorwerth had warned him of his ego many times. But there was no way out except through the duel, and with his wishes for knighthood, he could not back out of it. Maybe he could win, after all, he had taken down an enemy captain during the war, in an enemy camp, and the king, that stubborn new king, who had stayed at home whilst even his father was out dying for him. That selfishness was part of the reason for Ciaran's anarchical thoughts. Yes, the king who had sat on his throne would possibly be an easy defeat. A little meditation, however, would not go amiss.

Ciaran decided to take a walk to calm his head, maybe go out of the castle and spend the night in one of the surrounding villages. He was pretty confident that he could win tomorrows duel, but would have to restrain from killing the man. Even now he could not think of him as king. As he wandered the corridors he passed by the Infirmary, and, peeking in, saw Lord Gretsworth alone on a bed. His chance for vengeance. Silently, he crept into the room and sat at the bedside, wondering how exactly to regain the honour that had been taken from him. This man had robbed his childhood, and as Hawk had 'commanded' he could not regain honour from a duel. Then it came to him, silently he drew his knife.

"It is considered proper to tell a man his crimes before you try to kill him?" Allyn opened his eyes and watched the young man warily. He had never seen him before.

"You are wrong sir if you think I wish to kill you here." Returned Ciaran, the malice dripping in his every word. "But you have taken something from me that can never be returned, and, as our glorious 'king' will not let me challenge you to reclaim it, I must claim some compensation. Killing you would be too obvious." He tossed the knife in his hand.

"Dont think for one second that I will allow you to live, Lord Gretsworth, but right now the situation is too volatile for a murder to be branded on somebody." He looked Allyn straight in the eyes. "I am angry and dissatisfied with the king, and from you I wish recompense. What do you recommend I take?"

Allyn looked at the angry youth so much like himself not so many years ago. "If you are seeking Justice, then I am sure we can discuss what it is you believe I took. I have never seen you before so can not begin to guess. If it is vengeance you seek, then even the King cannot stop a duel of honor should he not decide to kill me himself." His words held a soft calming tone.

"Dont think you can settle my anger so quickly!" stated Ciaran "You took any chance I had of a proper childhood, I spent my last few months a hermit, you do not know, Cannot know, the vengeance my heart requires." He tossed his knife again, letting it fall very close to the bed before catching it. "I may only be of 17 years, but thanks to you I have more experience in loneliness than any 40 year old. I look at those I used to call friend, and I see no comfort there, and it is all YOUR FAULT!"

"How did I do that? I have never met you and in fact, have never been here before?" Allyn watched the youth warily.

"Hah" Ciaran laughed aloud. "You do not know of your own crimes! That is the best criminal defence I have ever witnessed! Next you will tell me you did not kidnap the lady Isa for profit!" The maniacal smile was one of pure hatred, enough to send even the strongest man to fear.

"I was a member of the party that hunted you, I killed several of your mercenary criminal band, but in doing so I was forced to abandon my post to make sure you were brought to justice." He tossed the knife for a third time, allowing it to create a draught across Allyns face before catching. "I was Iorwerth's squire, I would have been High Knight, but my hunt for justice, my hunt for YOU, destroyed ALL that, and now I live as a hermit, off the land, working alone. And Its ALL YOUR FAULT. If the King refuses to pass judgement, then I WILL!"

"Your King does not seem like the type to hold such things against a young squire? I think you misjudge him? Who forced you to abandon your post. It was not me. I doubt it was Lord Iowerth? So perhaps lad, you are angry at yourself and seek to destroy something outside yourself till you feel an ease of the guilt that lays within you. What I did was an act of war, ordered by my commander. Just as you were doing when you slew those lads who were loyal to me." Allyn felt sorrow for the angry young man. A loss of honor and pride was harder then losing a limb.

"Get out of my head villain." came Ciarans cold reply. "It is not your right to valuate my actions, only that you know of them. And honour be damned, you have none, you committed your act of war for your glorious commander, then come and betray it to us, just because you have taken a fancy to one of our Knights. Iorwerth did force me to abandon my post, he was moving too slowly, you were escaping, and I knew to track you. AND I WAS RIGHT. I got there before the army, and you had gone. The men I slew were not slain on orders from my commmander, but they were taking liberties they had no rights to. They were criminals, I was a High Knight in training, I did my job, for my honour, not for blasted orders." He tossed the knife to his left hand, then back to his right, and then he threw it. It buried itself in the wall two inches above the head of the Lord. Slowly and deliberately, Ciaran drew his other knife.

"A Knight, lad, does not take justice into his own hands. He bends to the will of his elders. If you can not follow orders, you do not deserve to be a knight." Allyn said sadly.

"I Am A Knight, I follow my orders, I was not ordered to not pursue your band, my orders, as with the rest of the army, were to pursue and destroy." He aimed the fury in his eyes straight at Allyn. "I have also not been ordered not to kill you, just not to duel you. Are you ready to meet your fate." Ciaran drew his first knife out of the wall, now holding a knife in each hand. Allyn shut his eyes to await his fate, and heard the sounds of two solid impacts. When he dared open his eyes again, there was a knife on either side of his head, nearly nicking his ears.

"I will not become like you, I am no murderer." Ciaran stood up as he said this. "But after your convalescence I will find you again. Then we will settle this." and Ciaran left the room in fury.