My Writer's Desk

Thomas faced Anton in that semi-final round. He thought briefly of his encounter with Lynette the previous evening but shook his head. Anton was a fellow knight, surely an honorable fighter. They stepped up to the center of the field for the herald’s announcement of the match. The two knights saluted each other as was proper, and settled back into defensive positions on the marshal’s call of “Lay on!” Thomas was only two rounds away from the throne now, and he felt a surge of adrenaline as he and Anton circled each other. His shield held high and his sword arm protected for the moment, Thomas advanced on Anton and threw the first blow. Anton blocked, as Thomas knew he would, but then Anton let loose with a flurried attack that pushed Thomas clear across the field to the eric rope. The marshal on the field called “Hold!” to stop them from running through the rope and into the crowd. Thomas heard a few people gasp behind him before he returned to the center of the field to begin again.

Once again the marshal cried “Lay on!” and this time Anton didn’t wait. He pressed in immediately and began raining blows on Thomas’s shield, arms, and anything he could reach. Thomas defended as best he could, but Anton seemed fueled by something outside himself. When Thomas landed a blow once or twice Anton didn’t blink, it was as if he didn’t feel it at all. The fight was brutal, but fortunately short. There was no way Thomas could extricate himself from Anton’s fury. Confused, battered, and exhausted, he admitted defeat when his shield arm slipped and allowed Anton a clear shot at his helm. He accepted the arm of the marshal to help him stand up while the herald announced that Anton had won and was advancing to the final round. Anton had not waited for the announcement or to see if Thomas was alright; he strode off the field without a backward glance. Thomas could see the other fight continuing on the next field. Neither Theodore nor Gregory exhibited near the ferocity Anton had.

Back at his pavilion, Thomas began removing his armor, piece by piece. He was alone in the shade for the moment. Though he had recently been granted his own white belt, he was still a member of Sir Robert’s household. Robert and his lady were off visiting, as was Carol. David, who was still a squire, and Lisbet were walking together on the other side of the eric, and Meggie – Morgaine – was running page duty. He sought her out and spied her waiting for Theodore and Gregory to conclude the round. She was watching him though, and had a look of fear in her eyes. He smiled to reassure her that he was ok and went back to unbuckling his braces. So the fight had looked as cruel from the sidelines as it had felt. He didn’t understand what had gotten into Anton.

A few moments later a cheer went up from the crowd in front of him. Earl Theodore was declared the victor. Thomas was pleased. Gregory was a nice enough person, but Theodore was the better knight and had far more experience, would make a better monarch. Thomas could only hope at this point that Theodore would win the day. He was surprised when the Earl himself came to speak to him as soon as he had left the field.

“My lord,” Thomas stood and bowed as he greeted his guest. “Well fought, congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Theodore said quietly. “I came to see if you were hurt. I saw the beginning of your round.”

“No, I’m a bit bruised but nothing serious. Thank you for your concern.” Thomas cocked his head to one side and continued, “I’m not sure what got into Sir Anton out there.”

“Anton is a hothead,” Theodore answered simply. “He boasted that he would win the throne at any cost. He said that as king the rules were irrelevant, and he intended to behave as if he had already won. He has been refusing to acknowledge blows all day. I will do my best to ensure that he does not win another bout today. Where I come from, whelps like that get a lesson handed to them. I am glad you are unharmed. By your leave…” Theodore bowed and exited the pavilion, making his way back to his own rest. The final round would begin in a matter of minutes.

Thomas stared after him. He wondered what Theodore had in mind for a “lesson”. Only half unarmored, he sank into his chair on the side of the pavilion and reached for his water mug. It had fresh ice in it; probably Meggie’s doing, bless her. The look on Theodore’s face had been hard, determined, and full of rage. Though he spoke softly, his words carried a vehemence that surprised Thomas. He was very glad that he would not be the one facing the Earl on the field in the next few minutes. He closed his eyes for a moment, only reopening them when he heard Master Roland call the combatants to the final round.

Everyone present was now watching the center field. The day had come down to this one fight, which would determine the next King and Queen of Caid. Thomas stayed seated, but he could see through the few people standing in front of his pavilion. The others of his household had stopped at various places around the eric, wherever they had been at the time of the call to arms. He could just pick out Meggie on the sidelines holding the list cards that Master Roland surely did not need for this match.

Theodore stood stock still on one side of the field, while Anton danced in place on the other. There was a palpable tension in the crowd. From their whispers, several people had noticed the look on Theodore’s face that Thomas had seen earlier. Something was going to happen on that field. Thomas sat up a little straighter. The herald called for the customary salutes: to the crown, to their ladies, and to each other. Theodore made each slowly and deliberately, with a stately grace. Anton gave only the briefest of nods in two directions, showing contempt for the throne and disdain for his opponent. Only Lynette, standing on the sidelines, received a full salute.

“Lay on!” cried the marshal, backing quickly to the edge of the field, his staff held across his body.

There was no wary circling this time, no testing of each other. As soon as the lord marshal was out of the way, Theodore was immediately on the offensive. Thomas wondered if this is what his fight with Anton had looked like. Anton backpedaled only a moment however. After a few steps he dug in his heels, gave an angry shout, and began pressing his own attack. The battle that ensued was like nothing Thomas – or any of the onlookers – had ever seen. Anton was like a wild beast, sword flying in every direction. Theodore was a little slower, but there was power radiating from his every swing. Thomas actually winced as a blow rang like a gong on Anton’s upper left arm, bypassing the shield entirely. But Anton continued as if he’d never been hit, completely disregarding the rules of combat. When a fighter takes a blow that, had it been made with the same force using a sharp metal sword instead of the rattan stick, would have made a debilitating wound, the recipient is obligated to call a halt and cease the use of the limb for the remainder of the fight – or admit final defeat. After that hit, Anton should have been shieldless. Indeed, the lord marshal called “Hold!” and spoke fiercely to Anton in low tones. Grudgingly it seemed, Anton dropped his shield where he stood. The marshal moved it aside with the end of his staff, looked at both of them to be sure they were ready to resume and called again, “Lay on!”

Losing his shield seemed to make Anton impossibly even more reckless. Gasps and frantic whispers were flying among the onlookers. Even the uninitiated could see that there was something different about this match. Theodore never faltered, though he must be exhausted. Anton was like a man possessed. The entire field rang with the clatter of wood on steel, punctuated by the grunts and shouts of the two fighters. Finally, it had seemed to take hours, Anton fell to his knees involuntarily as a result of a heavy blow to the top of his helm that even he could not shrug off. Letting off an inarticulate yell of fury, he continued to fall forward until he lay prone on the grass. Immediately, before even the marshal or herald could react, Theodore dropped his sword and shield and tore off his helm. His face had not lost a trace of anger, though it dripped in sweat. He stood silently while the marshal declared the end and Master Roland announced him as the winner of the bout and of the lists. Anton had not yet moved. Theodore turned on his heel and strode away, nodding briefly to a young man Thomas recognized as the Earl’s squire. The squire ran onto the field to collect the sword and shield Theodore had left where he stood. A few steps away from the eric, Theodore stumbled briefly, but continued on until he sat in his own pavilion, his face still set in stony silence.

Thomas didn’t yet know it, but along with the whispers about Theodore there was a story about him rippling through parts of the crowd during the period between the end of the fight and the call to final court. Some few individuals questioned Anton about his behavior during his fight against Thomas. Anton and Lynette together wove a tale for these people worthy of any tabloid. Thomas, they said, had lured Lynette into the woods the night before and propositioned her, promising to let Anton win should they be matched in the lists in any round. She, they insisted, had protested fervently, even slapping him before running back to her encampment in shame. Anton had sworn revenge on the field, so when faced with Thomas in the semi-finals he let loose his rage. When some of these same people pressed further, asking why he had continued to act the madman with Theodore, he pled pent up adrenaline from the previous all-too-brief fight, as well as the fact that Theodore had attacked him first.

A Woodbridge Tale

“Four strangers will meet and know one another… So began the prophecy. It ended: …and they will bring down the Dragon Lord with their combined might, and the world will know peace.” The old innkeep paused for dramatic effect, and gazed out among those gathered to hear the story. Most of them had heard the tale many times over, some were young children hearing its magic for the first time, and there were a few strangers in the back of the room, sitting by the fire seeming to ignore the telling. “This very inn was the site of their first meeting, those four strangers. I remember them still. They each came separately, over a week or so, …”

While the innkeep told his story, three men and a woman sat together at a table near the fire. A faint glow surrounding the woman’s bright eyes was hidden from the villagers by the hood of her cloak. Their calm exteriors belied the intensity of their thoughts.

::Would someone like to refresh my memory as to why we are here?:: The mental “voice” carried an overtone of exasperation.

::No need to be testy, Alania. We needed a place to meet, and this seemed as good a one as any,:: the dark man replied with his thoughts.

::I’m not being testy, James. I just have a bad feeling about this place, you know?::

::I know. But this is where it all started, so I think this should be where we start to end it. You know what I mean,:: a new “voice” broke in.

::But I thought we ended it fifteen years ago, in the forest down south.:: The tall blonde seemed confused by the whole conversation.

“…oh, about twenty years ago it must have been. All four were so strange. Not from this world, I’ll tell you that, though they looked normal enough at first sight. And they seemed to know each other from ‘way back, although how that could have been I’ll never know.” The inkeep waved to a barmaid to bring another round of ale.

::Kameron, that was just the end of the battle. We never stopped being protectors.:: The plainsman shifted his weight in the chair and stared at the blonde in front of him.

::Then why an ending, James?::

::We’re getting old, that’s why.::

::You, maybe.:: Even the Thurin’s mental voice was a growl. ::I don’t’ get old as fast as you humans.::

::Watch it, what’s your name this week? Still Thomas? You used to be just as human as the rest of us, remember?:: Alania poked the felinoid in the ribs with a smile.

::There has been peace for fifteen years, but it won’t last forever. Contacts tell me that there are stirrings in the northern mountains, and sightings of brigand troops.:: James looked at his three companions. ::It’s been a long time. Most of us have been settled for a while now. Do you really think that we’re up to the job if it comes down to a fight again?::

“…they set off together to find the lost orbs. If any of the orbs had fallen into the Dragon Lord’s hands, the world today would be a much different place.” Older members of the crowd murmured to each other in worried tones, and relief that none of the orbs had, in fact, been in the possession of the Dragon Lord.

::As I recall, Kameron, some of us barely lived through it the first time.::

::Well, some of us apparently weren’t ready to deal with reality and get down to business in the first place.::

::Children!:: Alania cut in to avoid what was quickly becoming an old fight. ::I think we’re all agreed that it is time to find someone to replace us, should the need arise. We’ve done our job, and we’ve done it well.::

::Where, pray tell, are we going to find a bunch of young fools – I mean, adventurous youths – to take our places?::

::I don’t know, James. I thought that was your department.:: Alania smiled sweetly in the plainsman’s direction before continuing. ::I have, however, been doing a bit of research on the subject…::

::What subject? Young fools looking for fatal missions??:: interjected Thomas.

::…and I’ve discovered something that may be of help,:: Alania continued, ignoring the Thurin. ::However, I’d like to continue this conversation elsewhere. I haven’t had to keep up a mental link this long in years. Besides, the longer we stay, the more likely it is that some of these children are going to get their heads too full of the innkeep’s story and start seeing things. You all know what happens then. We’ll never get any sleep if we continue this now. We ought to rest and begin again in the morning.::

::True enough,:: James replied. ::Will the standard room arrangement do, or have the years altered sensitivities?::

::That will do fine, if the boys don’t mind. We have a lot of catching up to do,:: Alania answered, looking to the others for confirmation.

::I’m game, if you stop calling me a boy. I’m pushing 40, and I’m older than you are. Just as long as Furball here doesn’t toss me out a window again,:: said Kameron.

::I won’t push you out a window if you don’t throw an axe through the door,:: growled Thomas.

“…they traveled the land over, collecting the orbs from the far corners of the world, bringing them together in the Great Hall of Waterfall City. The Hall is in the exact center of the city, surrounded by the rushing falls. I’ve heard that the noise is deafening to one unaccustomed to the sound.”

::Oh, do we have to leave now? He’s just getting to the good part of the story.::

::Kameron! Why would you want to hear this again? Wasn’t the once enough?:: exclaimed James.

::I just wanted to see which version he’s telling. Did you know that there are fourteen verified modifications to the basic storyline?::

::Wonderful. Does it matter? We know what really happened.::

::Of course we do. That’s not the point. The point is…::

::The point is, you have no point. I’m going to get a room for Alania and me. You can stay down here and listen to the innkeep tell a twenty-year old story if you really want to. Just stay out of trouble. Coming, Allie?::

Alania rose form the table and quietly stretched her arms, careful not to disturb those listening to the tale in earnest. The glow around her eyes faded as she cut the mental ties between her and her companions. The rest would do her good, though she wanted to talk to James before going to sleep.

Once they were inside the room upstairs, Alania whirled around to face James. Her voice was nearly hysterical. “No messages, no visits, nothing, for fifteen years! Why, James? I thought we were better than that.” Alania’s eyes looked ready to burst with tears.

“Allie, I’m sorry. When we parted ways on the battlefield, I thought it would be best not to look back. After everything that had happened to us those five years together, I didn’t want to spoil it by settling into normalcy. At least this way we remember the way it was. I didn’t want to end up fighting over who should go to the market or something stupid.”

Her mouth trembling, Alania replied, “Did you never think to ask me what I wanted?”

“When we met in the common room tonight, I took one look at your eyes and I knew that the fire was still there. If we had stayed together, I don’t think I would have seen that fire tonight. No, I didn’t ask, and I’m sorry. I won’t make that mistake again this time, believe me. The last fifteen years have been lonely and miserable without you. I won’t spend the next fifteen alone, will I?”

Too shaken by now to speak, and too tired to open even as easy a link as this one would be, Alania simply shook her head. Breathing a sigh of relief, James bent down to kiss her. When she collapsed in his arms, he gently carried her to the bed and made her comfortable. The rest could wait until later.

In the morning, a knock on the door woke James from a deep sleep. He glanced at the sleeping form in the bed next to him and stumbled to let Kameron and Thomas in. “Shh, she’s exhausted.”

“I’ll bet she is, if you two picked up where you left off,” snickered Thomas.

“Don’t be crude. It doesn’t become even you.”

“It’s ok, I’m awake,” mumbled Alania from the bed. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and smoothing back her hair. “Where were we?”

“My, my, aren’t we anxious?” muttered Kameron.

“I believe you were going to tell us how to find replacements,” answered Thomas, happy to cut to the chase.

“Yes. It’s very simple really. They will come here, to us. All we have to do is wait.”

“But how? Why?” Kameron stuttered.

“The same way we got here, I imagine, and for the same reasons.”

“But there’s no prophecy now.”

“True, but apparently this has been happening regularly for hundreds of years. Sometimes there is a specific task to be fulfilled, like ours, and sometimes new people just had to fill a vacant role, as our successors will. Any day now they should start arriving. There will be four, just like us. All we do is stick around until they’re all here and release the duties to them. It’s not something consciously done, or publicly. They will meet each other, just as we did, and go along their way. We will then be free to go along ours. Freer even than when we split up before. Never again will we be called upon to be the defenders of the land.”

“Then we could stay together this time, instead of having to spread the authority around, right?” The almost plaintive plea came from James.

“If that’s what we want.”

The room fell silent. They had always had a bond. Over the years of separation it had weakened, stretched, and strained, but every one of them could feel it tightening now. Each one reached for the others with mind and body and pulled tighter, until it seemed as though they would never come apart. Which, of course, is the way that it should have been.

Downstairs, the innkeep looked at his calendar and realized what time of year it really was. Twenty years ago, almost to the day, his story from the previous night had taken place. Which meant that any day now a new set of heroes was due. Soon he would have a new story to tell. But he hadn’t seen the Warriors of the Prophecy around anywhere. They should be here too, he puzzled. Then he smiled. Of course, now he remembered the quiet party by the fire. He should have known.