A sorrowed man's burden is finally lifted |
“As I’ve said, I regret it horribly.” He repeated that mostly to organize his thoughts, not to gain any clemency, this crowd wasn’t exactly the type to feel pity. He turned to lock eyes with each member of the audience, dark sellswords and brigands, every one of them. They watched him over the fire, scarred faces bathed in flickering shadows. He looked to the only kind face among them, a young bard, who had asked him to tell his story. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was complying with the bard’s request. He’d kept his past to himself all these years, why tell it now? He asked himself that question, even as he began his story. “Fifteen years ago to this, I and five others rode from our garrison late at night. It was no major disobedience, our area was not under threat and the command was pathetically lax. Many came and went at all hours to the surrounding cities. But we went farther. "We heard a rumor, that a former knight, a deserter, had taken refuge in a small town not far off. We had gotten it into our heads to bring him to justice. “We came to the town, and we kept watch. We saw no sign of the knight, heard no mention of him. We all grew irritable, not wanting to return as failures. We questioned some merchants traveling through, and one of them visited the town regularly and knew of whom we spoke. The man told us of the knight… and his family, and their plight. From that, we assumed the knight had died. In our youthful arrogance, our earlier irritation turned to anger. Somehow, what was simply a knight’s desertion, almost a generation before us, had become a personal insult to us all, and we wanted revenge. We followed the man’s two daughters that the naïve merchant had pointed out to us. One was constantly off in the woods, often alone. However, we weren’t sure that was her, it looked like a boy. “Before we could decide who that was, we saw the other. She was years older than the other child, still younger than any of us. She rarely was off on her own though. But we waited. Somehow we constrained the patience to wait, and soon caught her…” He shook his head at the reemerging memory. “She was terrified. We were monsters that day… I do not deny that I took part. But soon I felt horrid shame, so did a few of the others... Then one man laughed with genuine amusement at the whole ordeal. I was angered by that, for once not at the sake of my own pride, but for the innocent beauty that huddled in hopeless fear as far as she could from us. I would not be surprised if I killed the laughing man in my fury to blame someone else for my own actions… The others broke us apart, but they were as worried as I. One yelled about all of us being hanged for this, and, drawing a sword, prepared to dispose of the girl, the only one who would speak against us. No one moved to stop him. “I could not let that happen, we did not deserve to get away with this. I took up the girl and ran. For a while, I feared I would not get her far enough away, the others kept too close pursuit. But the girl spoke, told me of a path to take, and I listened. The trail was tortuous, but she knew the way. We soon gained ahead of the others, and had the time to hide as we came upon a slim gap in a hill face. I set her down as far out of sight as I could, and turned to block the only entrance. I was apprehensive of fighting my comrades, but it never came to that, they ran right by. I was relieved, elated that the girl could now escape. I turned to her, to apologize for all that had happened, to beg for her forgiveness… As I turned… she grabbed the dagger at my belt, wielding it well, I barely had time to raise a defense, taking the dagger through the arm instead of my heart…” With a sardonic grin at himself, he pulled up the sleeve on his left arm, exhibiting a wide and splaying scar along the forearm. The bard’s eyes narrowed, but his cheerfully attentive expression didn’t change. He heard a few gruff chuckles from the others gathered around the fire. “The sudden pain fell me to the ground, and when I looked back up she was gone. I could hear her, though, she had not yet gone far. I did not go after, the others had gone the other direction, I believed her in no danger. She needed not, and should not, suffer my presence any longer. “I sat hidden in that hill side for I know not how long. I made no attempt to bind my wound, my mind seemed detached from myself, I hardly felt it. I would have bled to death and not cared, if she had not returned. She said nothing, refused to look at me. I could not take my eyes from her. The glow of her hair, a halo about her angelic face, outshone the brilliance of the dawning sun behind her. She finished tending my arm, and curtly told me that she had been back to her village, but had spoken to no one, because my companions were there, searching for me, even having the nerve to organize a search party with the residents for her, blaming me solely for all that had happened. “I was too happy to care, she had returned to me, that was all I selfishly wanted. I know I was staring at her dumbly, light-headed from the wound I had neglected. She finally met my eyes; saying that she should have stayed in the village, letting me rot out here… but her words held no malice, as she leaned over to kiss me…” His voice trailed away, lost in the memory. He came back to the present with a fleeting smile, ignoring the mocking comments whispered intentionally loud to reach his ears. “I vowed to marry her that very day, and spend the rest of my life in atonement, to deserve the love we shared. She laughed and told me that I was far too ambitious, for I hadn’t yet to hand her the moon and stars from the sky. “The chance to forget the world for that time was all too welcome. Pain and hardship were simple words, their meanings had ceased to exist. I would have given anything, if only it could have remained that way. “We were heading to the village, when we were halted by my former companions. They had horses now, we had no chance of escaping. I tried to talk with them, buy some time, thinking that maybe the rest of the search party from her village would find us here. They realized my intent, and let us know that they had purposefully sent the villagers in the wrong direction when they had found our trail. They drew their swords and asked us to surrender quietly. They might not have had the intent to kill us, they may have been willing to make a deal for our silence. But I was panicked by the thought of her coming to further harm. We ran. They came after. “I began to realize the futility of running. I considering turning back to face them, either to fight or beg for our lives, what ever was necessary. But fate deemed it too late. She stopped running, pulled me to a halt as well. My momentum still carried me halfway through the brush I had been about to hurl through. That half of me went over edge of the cliff. I managed to throw myself backward and not fall. “I turned around to find my companions surrounding us. I thought I had known these men, considered them friends, at the very least. But I found I had no notion of what they would do with us. I hoped feebly that they would prove to be those I had thought they were. “They stood before us with the air of silent judgment, as if we were the criminals. One of them stepped forward, sword drawn, plainly intending to strike us down. I could not believe their betrayal. We stood with our backs to a ravine, and had only my dagger between the two of us. “I had no choice. He swung his blade, with us the clear target. I grabbed her and we jumped. It seemed we fell for eternity, over the edge, through empty air, and then among the branches of an ancient tree. I lost hold of her. I continued the fall alone, unable to stop, plummeting through the wood, unable to tell if the thousands of sharp cracks and snaps were from branches or bone. “I finally hit the ground. My vision swam back and forth, colors swirled, but I do not think I lost consciousness. Trying desperately to ignore the bodily pain, I search around me, wondering where she had fallen. My blood ran cold when I did not see her. I looked up. I found her. She lay unmoving across two branches in the tree above. I scrambled up the tree, through the branches, praying that my motion would not cause her to fall. I reached out to her, calling, hoping she would awaken and make the descent less perilous. I held her hand. It was still warm at that time. I gently carried her completely out of the tree, laid her carefully on the ground, before I dared realize… the dreadful blood trail through the tree… how absolutely still she was… the sword’s fatal bite. "I called, and she would not awaken. I bent over her, brushed the hair from her face, whispered every kind word I knew to her, and every curse I knew to the gods. “I refused to respond to the voices from the cliff above. They must have seen us, they could not have missed us, in plain sight below them, the shower of leaves and debris marking our fall. Then I heard the shuffle of anxious horses and then pounding hooves fading away. “They left us for dead. I was not, but I wished it. My love was gone, I had nothing. “I buried her as respectfully as I could, beneath that same tree who had caught her. Such a task tore my very soul to shreds. “...I wanted so badly to return her to her family, tell them of what had occurred, tell them of my part in it, but they were already convinced of my criminality. Showing myself to them now would only make amends by letting them see her murderer die, for I was certain they would give me no chance to explain. I was a coward. I could not face them. I turned my back on the town and left. I thought nothing of them again, though the thought of her was never far from me. But my guilt prevented me from ever taking comfort in her memory. “I wandered after that, my feet just kept moving, would not allow me to stay for long in any place. I remember that one day with vivid sharpness, but those following years are all a seamless blur to my mind. “Quite suddenly, but over a year had passed, I knew, my mind was sharp again. I found before me a city. Their city. They lived here. Lived and prospered. The ones who had betrayed my trust in them as fellow soldiers, as brothers. They had killed her. “I sought them out, I looked so ragged and changed that no one recognized me. I am surprised to this day how easy it was to kill them. Every one of them. So simple.” The speaker stared into the fire, eyes having lost their focus. Seeming to have lost all strength, his head dropped into his hands. His long and unkempt hair obscured his face. Seeing as the man refused to continue, the bard smiled, he clapped his hands lightly. “Beautiful, simply beautiful. I’ll make a song of it, I promise you. I have to change a few things though, of course. Minor things; locations, times. Maybe I’ll have it take place in the sea kingdoms. Yes, that ought to do.” The man raised his head. He watched the smile widen on the bard's kind countenance. “You still don’t know who I am, do you?” The bard laughed, a lilting sound that many a songbird would envy. “He was my father, you know. The man who slew your beloved.” The bard bobbed his head in courteous, though curt, apology. “He swung that sword, he did, in your story. Oh, and you didn’t kill him, upon your return. Maimed him horribly, but he’s very much alive, thank you.” The man’s face didn’t change. He stared at the bard. Slowly, his eyes roamed to the crowd around him. The bard chuckled, “Yes, it’s you we are looking for. Father doesn’t like that you got away. Didn’t you find it a bit convenient, a little old army here, and innocent young me to lead them, finding you so? Or did you know all along, Chester Nahuel Tawinhardt?” The man did not respond. He sat unmoved. The dark men around the fire stood, laid hands on weapons. A giant of a man stepped forward. The brilliant steel of the headsman’s axe glittered like a jewel, with the promise of freedom. The bard’s smile lightened, was less harsh but retained a sweetly mocking twist, as the giant approached the acquiescent man. “Worry not, for your pain is at an end. Be at peace.” |