THE RETURN OF THE DEAD KNIGHT p.2

“Tomorrow?” Lady Huxley interrupted before Isaiah got the chance

to. The sudden sharpness in her voice made him look directly at her

face for a brief second – enough time to notice the anger in those large,

dark brown eyes of hers. Khair claimed she’d arrived around the same

time as him, nearly twenty years back now, but that could hardly be

the case, seeing she looked so young still.

“There’s not much time, m’Lady. The sooner, the better.”

“Surely, you will need some days to rest. And you won’t want to

miss the event – neither of you.” She protested.

“I sleep be'er outside...”

“Isaiah needs to get a chance to say goodbye to everyone. He has

been here for four years – you need to give him some time.” The Knight

cleansed his throat.

“Four years seems a long enough time to me, m’Lady. He has all day

to say goodbye to his friends. There shouldn’t be too many of them.”

Despite Isaiah’s disliking, he knew he was right. Except for a few of the

young children, and perhaps the gardener, he had no actual friends –

nobody to miss or to be missed by. Even less so now, after last night’s

humiliation.

“It’s quite alright, Lady Huxley. This was the agreement.”

“Please, if you would like to stay, Isaiah, I will talk to my husband.

As you know, he is quite fond of you - as am I.” He could see the edge of

her mouth smiling from the side of his eyes. Lady Huxley never looked

straight at him, but now she turned her head towards him ever so

slightly.

“Celeste, please. This was the agreement. I need the boy.” Isaiah had

not known her birth name till just then, and thought it sounded

foreign. There were different opinions as to her origins, but it seemed

she’d first come to the fortress as a captive too, and that Lord Huxley

had fallen in love with her – “just like in a hero tale”, as Khair had

described it. He’d been less convinced about this specific detail but

hadn’t found the story itself too unlikely. From the li'le he’d permi'ed

himself to see, she was a beautiful woman. Long, raven black hair,

rose-red cheeks, and full lips that spoke with the sweetest voice he’d

ever heard. Hers was a forbidden face only for the eyes of the patron,

and from what it now seemed, his discourteous brother.

“The agreement was also that you would come back within seven

moon spans.” She argued, and Tzelem took two steps towards them,

favoring his left leg, Isaiah noted.

“Have you trained him, m’Lady? That too was a part of our

agreement. Now, I see his puppy flesh has hardened, but has anyone

taught him how to use a sword or a bow? How to hunt and navigate?”

“No.” the Lady sighed. It was the first time Isaiah had witnessed

her unable to control a situation, and he felt an overpowering urge to

protect her. “This is my way out.” He reminded himself, biting his

tongue.

“Just like I thought. And so, since I brought him here, he will come

with me.”

“Or perhaps we shall let him choose for himself, now that he’s a

grown man.” Lady Huxley said, placing her jeweled hands on her hips

as Tzelem looked at Isaiah expectantly. He froze for a moment, finding

the presence of choice a rather unfamiliar ma'er.

“If it wouldn’t displease the Lady and the Lord too much, I would

like to go with Master Tzelem - as was our original agreement.” Isaiah

finally managed to say, only disguising his puzzlement to some

degree. It seemed unheard of that he, as a captive, would be allowed to

make such a decision for himself. “But I’m not really a captive.” He

remembered. That had been a temporary agreement - a disguise of a

sort.

“I see. Well then, my husband will be awake in a few hours and free

you from your duties.” She said, once again, her composed self. It

seemed she’d put up all the fight she was willing to endure for him.

They had a great many captives, and the numbers had been

increasing for the past moon spans, as the newest plague had people

fleeing across the land. How many Isaiah was uncertain of, since they

often came and went, but certainly more than one hundred and less

than two.

“You may go now. I’ll brief you on the journey on the way.” Tzelem

said, suddenly impatient.

“Go where?”

“Back to your roots, or whatever it was you were doing before.”

Isaiah tightened his lips and fists, forced a nod and a discreet bow,

before turning on his heel. He had a new master now, and he did not

like this fact even in the slightest. Yet, there wouldn’t be any need to

find holes in the wall or some inventive way to distract the guards.

For a moment he allowed himself to wonder if the moon had truly

heard him and given him a free pass to the outside. He was quick to

correct himself, knowing that getting away from Tzelem wouldn’t be

an easy task. There were still numerous matters and details in need for

careful consideration. ”One step closer.” He told himself. No more and

no less.

Returning to the fields, there were now four other men there. Three

of them looking disengaged and still half asleep, and one of them being

Archilai, appearing content and not doing much at all.

“Unlike you to break your routines, lad.” He commented.

“Tzelem is back and I will be leaving with him tomorrow,” he

admitted, seeing no reason to hide this fact. He noticed the last bit of

annoyance he’d felt towards him was gone, and that he nearly felt

content to have found him there. Now he could apologize before

leaving, as well as making a point out of the effortless development of

the ma'er.

“Already?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“You should be pleased now.”

“Very much so. I think I’ve never had such quick results with

anyone.” Isaiah shook his head, as he reached for one of his sacks.

“Cheer up, lad, I’m just messing with you. This is all your own

earning.” Isaiah considered this, knowing he hadn’t done anything but

agreeing with the only man he truly hated to assist him in some

impossible mission (one that both of them should know he was

nowhere close to fit for). It almost seemed a disgraceful escape

a'empt, but he wasn’t ready to feel ashamed about it just yet. Not

until something went terribly wrong. “Which it might” he thought,

and he feared it most certainly would.

“I am sorry for being crude yesterday. I don’t know what came over

me...”

“Oh, don’t apologize, lad. Anyone would be a little defensive with a

strange, old man approaching them during their sacred morning

hour. If you add telling them they need to get their head out of their

arses, the old man would be lucky not to get a fist in his face.” Isaiah

snarfed.

“Truly, Isaiah, compared to most of the men I’ve met here, you have

proven yourself a true gentleman. Those are rare these days...”

“Lord Huxley is the only gentleman I’ve ever known, and I don’t feel

our characteristics overlap much.” Archilai chuckled at the comment.

“Not at all... Lord Huxley is a very special sort of gentleman. And

his brother perhaps even more so.” Isaiah nodded to that.

“Would you mind telling me what sort of mission you two are

heading out on?”

“I know nothing yet and even if I had, I’ve already been sworn to

silence four years ago.”

“Of course. And as a gentleman, you should always keep your

promise. Where I come from, keeping a secret and speaking truthfully,

are equally important virtues. Probably like this stubborn patience

seems to be in Delta.” It sounded like something of a contradiction,

Isaiah thought, but it did perhaps explain why Archilai was the sort

of man that he was.

“Would that be north of the Deltan river? In Dabár?” he asked.

“That’s a good guess, lad. We call it the Dabárian river. I was born

on the western coast by the Pyrios ocean. Ever been there?” Isaiah

shook his head. He’d never been anywhere but right where he was

now and home.

“No, but you’re very fair skinned. Even more so than the triplets,

and they keep reminding everyone they’re Dabárian.”

“Well observed, lad. Do keep in mind, we’re not all fair up north.

Rim for instance, is Dabárian. Don’t let her thinning accent fool you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He promised, and finally the two of them

smiled at each other, realizing that perhaps if it hadn’t been Isaiah’s

last day, they might have learned to get along rather well.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it now. The potatoes will surely miss your

a'ention more than myself.” Archilai winked, then placed two fingers

in between his lips and whistled. The dogs came walking rather than

running this time, like li'le gray clouds from afar.

“Remember, lad, dreams that are too wild and grand can soon turn

into beasts.”

“Nothing wild about mine, I just want a peaceful life.” Archilai

smiled thoughtfully.

“Now that is a wise wish, Isaiah.” He said, wondering whether

peace could ever be obtained by someone with such a resistance to

disorder. Having been wrong before, he nodded and strayed off,

deciding he should not inflict the boy with the very same madness

that had led him there. The world had changed in thirty years and its

new saviors, it seemed, had very different paths ahead of them.