Guardians of the Kingdom

by Diana Flame

  “Scold me later, Uncle,” she retorted. “We must hasten.”

  In a short time, they were back at the cottage where Brogue’s eyes bulged even more than her father’s. He stood still as he stared at the horse in front of the house.

  “You saved the one riding this mount?” he asked wonderingly.

  “Yes, he’s inside.”

  Snapping out of his awestruck state, he quickly followed Catrain inside where Merek had removed the tunic by cutting it away from the arrow. He had also broken the fletching, leaving only the shaft of the arrow visible.

  The men spoke in low tones that Catrain could not hear. Anxiously standing by the door, she waited for instructions. Her eyes stayed with the injured man as he grimaced in pain. His pale face was like a little boy’s that she was tempted to sing him a lullaby. It was then she realized she didn’t even know his name. Everyone in the village referred to this man as the Fire Knight only.

  Her father spoon-fed some medicine to the knight. They said it would ease the pain of when they pushed the arrow back. The arrow should not be pulled forward as that was dangerous and would pull his flesh out.

  Catrain bit her bottom lip when they put him in an upright position. Her father held him in place, as he was unable to sit on his own. Before Catrain could turn away, knowing what was to come next, Brogue hit the arrow, sending it through the knight’s shoulder.

  A long howl resounded through the small cottage that she was certain all the villagers thought an animal was in pain. Relief came when she saw the tip of the arrow. Merek broke the tip and swiftly pulled the shaft out. Brogue pressed the wound with a piece of wool to stop the bleeding while he beckoned Catrain over.

  “Clean him up nice and then we bandage him.”

  “Me?” she asked as both men looked at her.

  “Yes, you.”

  While Catrain prepared the warm water and towels for cleaning the knight. She could not help but overhear the conversation between her father and uncle.

  “That arrow been spelled by a witch,” Brogue said.

  Merek grunted. “Aye. I seen the markings, but the spell was weak.”

  “It was meant for the heart, no?”

  Merek nodded. “The knight must have been distracted, is why he got the arrow.”

  “You seen the steed? It’s the dragon-horse. He should have protected his master.”

  “It doesn’t always happen that way, Brogue. I will examine the arrow more closely on the morrow.”

  * * *

  Sparse dark hair formed a V across his chest and down his firm muscled stomach. She was careful not to hurt him as she sponged the blood, dirt and sweat from his body. By this time, he’d fallen asleep because of the pain medicine given to him. While she cleansed him, her uncle pressed the wound with a towel to keep him from bleeding out.

  When she was done, her father applied the poultice and Brogue did the bandaging. Afterward, Merek disappeared and returned with a knight’s uniform used decades before.

  “Pa, whose is that?”

  Brogue and her father exchanged glances before he replied. “Oh, this old thing I got a long time from the previous war.”

  “You bought a knight’s fittings?”

  “They were being bartered in the marketplace and I bought it,” Merek said.

  Merek and Brogue assisted her in dressing the knight in the old clothing. All throughout the night Catrain stayed by the injured man’s side. His fever was high and she would sponge him with cool water to contain the fever. Parched lips told her that he was athirst and she also feed him water. Despite pleas from her father to take her bed, she refused, insisting on tending the injured man who had been unkind to her.

  Catrain recalled his admonishment of her. However, something compelled her to gently minister to him to see that he was better. Being the king’s loyal servant was important to the netherbreds and Catrain convinced herself that was the reason she was doing all she could to make him better.

  Sleep was taken at his bedside in a wooden chair. At times, she’d rest her head on the cot on which he lay, listening to his even breathing while she dozed. Some time during the night, she found her father hovering over her.

  “He be in need of good medicine and care of the palace physician. I will take him at the first light of dawn before the day breaks,” Merek told Catrain.

  “I will go with you, pa,” she quickly added.

  “My child, you will do no such thing for you may never return.”

  “What do you mean, I may never return?”

  “Women are needed in the city, and one look at you and they will never let you leave.”

  Catrain bowed her head in disappointment as her father went back to bed. She’d thought that they would nurse the knight back to health, or at least for a few days until he was able to leave on his own.

  * * *

  Rulf’s lids opened weakly. He was lying on a cot in a tiny room with gray wooden walls. What manner of place is this? Trying to rise was of no use as he felt weakness throughout his body. What was more was the pain his shoulder and torso. The heat in his body was unbearable while the room seemed to move about at its own will.

  After some effort, he moved his right hand. It brushed something silky and he barely got his head to turn in the direction. Someone’s head rested beside him on the cot. The hair! Catrain? No, it’s impossible.

  What happened? Why am I here? Confusion basseted him causing to stare at her for a long time. What happened? He closed his eyes and tried to remember. The fog slowly cleared as he recalled the arrow. Did she find him? Did she save him? As if sensing that he was awake she lifted her head and their eyes connected.

  “Are you awake?” she asked, touching his forehead. “Oh no, the fever is too much.”

  Taking a washcloth from a bowl, she squeezed and placed it on his forehead. The coolness of it burned into his scorching skin.

  “Catrain,” his mouth moved, trying to form her name, but no sound came.

  His eyes slammed shut as darkness overcame him.

  * * *

  When Catrain awoke that morning, sunbeams lighted the room. A sinking feeling settled in her stomach at the sight of the empty bed. Quickly gathering the knight’s fittings, she took them to the river where she washed them. When they were dry, she mended the section that her father had cut.

  Catrain's heart was heavy but there was nothing she could do. She perhaps would never see him again now that she was forbidden to go upstream. The most she could hope for was news about him through those who visited the city marketplace. Death of the Fire Knight would be announced through the town crier. Otherwise, she’d know he lived.

  * * *

  Merek slowed the cart at the city gate. It’s been a number of years since he’d ventured this near Kingdom City. His brother Brogue was the one who peddled the produce in the city market while he bartered in the other hamlets. Therefore, there was never any need for him to come there. The guard at the humongous iron gate strode up to him with a frown.

  “Aren’t you the king’s cobbler?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes you are,” the man insisted. “I remember you. You wouldn’t remember me. I am that boy that brought the royal shoes to have them mended.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I used to sit and watch you work and wished I could be like you one day,” the soldier said. “Did you travel far?”

  “No, I told you, I be not the kings cobbler.”

  “No use denying it sir, I remember you,” the guard insisted. “What is your name?”

  “Merek it is.”

  “Then you are…,” the guard paused. “You were the cobbler a long while back. I told you I remember you.”

  “Okay, I used to be,” Merek reluctantly replied since the man would not let the matter alone. “I be a farmer now.”

  The guard glanced at the cart covered with straw. “What have you to trade today?”

  “Not to trade. I brought an injured man. We foun
d him by the river.”

  “Take him to the hospital at the northeast barracks.”

  “No, I think this one needs special attention from the palace physician.”

  Merek beckoned the guard, who lifted the straw. When he saw who was underneath, he quickly called a few of his contemporaries to accompany Merek to the palace. Once they reached the palace, he was told to wait outside while they fetched the Prime Minister. A long time passed before the Second Minister appeared. The soldier told him that the Prime Minister was otherwise occupied.

  “You have protected the king’s life by saving this knight,” the Second Minister said. “To show the king’s gratitude, I offer these gifts to you.”

  The minister gave Merek a small pouch with gold coins along with a chest.

  “I understand you have a daughter?”

  “How did you know that?”

  The minister smiled. “We have a record of everyone in the kingdom. There is raiment for your daughter and your brother. There is also a skin of wine as well as aliment.”

  Merek bowed low. “Thank you, Minister.”

  Three weeks went by and Catrain put the Fire Knight out of her thoughts and continued to help her father with the farm and animals. She fetched water daily at the river but never went upstream as she was strictly forbidden to do so. This did not please her as she was badly in need of her favorite swimming hole.

  On this particular day, she knew the sun would not set for a few hours. The battle seemed to have paused for a few days as she did not hear the usual swords clanging or men yelling in anguish. Perhaps the war was over, she thought.

  Thinking it was safe to chance it, she ventured upstream, taking care to watch for anything unusual. She’d finished washing and changing into a clean frock, filled her pail with water and was on the path home when she heard a sound behind her. She stopped and turned but there was no one.

  Now this was the edge of the forest but there were trees on both sides of the river. A few yards away there was the clearing and the road to the village. She was still on the opposite side of the river on the king’s land so it was still dangerous.

  She turned back to her path and was aghast to find it blocked by a Gerdanian. His brown tooth grin made her stomach churn. While trying to sidestep him, two more appeared completely preventing her from leaving.

  “What have we here? What are you doing all by yourself in these parts?”

  “Step away from the path and let me on my way!” she snapped.

  The one behind her grabbed her around the waist and lifted her. Feet kicking, she tried to elbow him but in vain. One of the other two approached, taking a lock of her hair.

  “So beautiful, never have I seen such golden hair before and such eyes. What color may they be?"

  “Unhand me you scoundrel,” she demanded, kicking the him in the gut.

  Letting out a groan, he doubled over. A moment later, he rose to his feet and straightened. Stepping close to her, he raised his hand as if to hit her when a voice stopped him.

  “You heard the lady!” the voice alone came from the trees.

  Catrain’s heart leaped at the sound of it. She knew it well. Her pulse began an erratic ticking as heat crawled over her skin. Elated, a broad smile appeared on her face. However, her elation was quickly replaced by anger as she recalled that in the past few weeks, the man she saved had not returned to see her once.

  “Who said that? Show yourself, coward!” the one holding her demanded.

  A dagger zinged through the air and lodged itself in a tree close to the head of the one she’d kicked. He seemed to be the leader of the three. As if out of nowhere the Fire Knight presented himself, sword drawn.

  “Unhand the lady!” he ordered.

  Her abductor snickered. “This is no lady.”

  “I said, unhand her or I might be forced to use my sword,” the king’s knight warned.

  “Very well,” the leader said, drawing his sword.

  The one holding Catrain loosened his grip and Catrain took the opportunity to wrangle free. As she detangled herself, she gripped the pommel of his sword and pulled it from his belt. With every agility she possessed, pivoted and brought the sword up to his neck. With bulging eyes and mouth open, he gawked at her.

  “On your knees, Gerdanian,” she ordered.

  When the man hesitated, she pressed the blade of his sword into his neck. Reluctantly, he sank to his knees, keeping his eyes on her and his hands raised above his head.

  While Catrain held her aggressor captive, she welcomed the sound of clashing of blades. The rebel sliced while the knight countered and struck the wrist of the rebel. The man cried out in pain as the sword loosened from his grip. The knight’s blade found an opening and sank into his torso. The rebel sank to the ground, gripping his chest.

  The clanking of swords continued with the third. The rebel warrior was no match for the knight and in little time, he too crumpled to the ground. The king’s knight disappeared, then returned with rope made of strong vines.

  With the blade still at the rebel’s throat, Catrain frowned. “Something is wrong.”

  The knight cocked a brow. “What do you mean?”

  “How did they break through the fortress?” she asked. “My father told me that each village and town had been fortified. There must be a weak point.”

  “You are correct.” He replied. “I thought the same thing.”

  The knight stood still as he stared intently at her.

  “Is something the matter?” she asked.

  “You are quite intelligent for a nether.”

  Catrain burst into a fit of laughter. “For a nether?”

  His next question surprised her further. “Can you read?”

  “Of course I can read. My father and uncle are learned men who have gained extensive knowledge during their travels.”

  “What? Learned netherbreds?” he seemed flabbergasted.

  The rebel shifted, trying to get free. She adjusted the sword so that the blade sank into the soft pad beneath his jaw.

  “My father and uncles have gathered many books and taught me well,” she remarked. “Now, enough about me. How did these rebels breech the fortress?”

  “The rebel will have to talk.”

  Catrain’s eyes flicked to her prisoner. “How did you get through?” she asked him but he snickered in response.

  She pushed the blade deep, piercing his skin. A small trickle of blood appeared on the blade.

  “Answer me, rebel.”

  “Why should I answer you?” he spat. “You’re just a commoner.”

  “And so are you,” she replied, sinking the blade deeper.

  The rebel laughed. “Your king will never win this war. The victory is ours now that we have an ally in the palace.”

  Catrain glanced at the knight whose brows deeply knitted together. He marched forward, gripped the rebel by the collar and pulled him up against a tree. Catrain followed with the sword, keeping it at his neck.

  “Who is the traitor?” the knight demanded. “Who let you through the barricade?”

  “Kill me now for I will never tell you,” the Gerdanian replied.

  Anger rose like oil to flames. Her hatred of the rebels fueled her ire. Gripping the hilt of the sword tightly, she lifted her hand pulling away from the rebel’s neck. Then she brought back the handle of the sword landing it on his cheekbone. A loud thwack was the result as the rebel sank to the forest floor. A small gash on his cheek oozed red.

  “Damn,” the knight cursed. “What have you done? I wanted to interrogate him.”

  “Ooops.”

  She knew he was upset with her for knocking out the rebel. His movements as he tied them up gave that fact away. Snatching the sword from her grasp, he sheathed it and placed it in his saddle.

  After making sure they were unable to get free, the knight approached her. They eyed each other for a moment. She was about to turn away when she felt him grip her upper arm.

  “Let go,” she hi
ssed. “You mannerless cad!”

  The knight cocked a brow. “Mannerless cad?”

  “Yes,” she retorted. “You have forgotten who saved your life. Anyway, why would you be thankful to a lesser born like me?”

  “Shut up and listen,” the knight replied, his tone calm.

  Catrain lifted her chin. “Why? Do you want to scold me for being on the king’s land again? We pay our share of tax to the castle, we have the right to bathe in this river!”

  Without a word, he pulled her close.

  “Unhand me this instant!” she protested.

  She struggled against him, but his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her fast against his body. Her breasts pressed into him, his rough raiment chafing her nipples. To her dismay, her nipples tightened as her pulse began to tick unsteadily.

  “You talk too much,” he murmured with a grin. “I was about to thank you.”

  “Oh,” she murmured.

  When he dipped his head, Catrain was spellbound and didn’t know what to do. When his lips touched hers, she stiffened. His mouth moved over hers, prying her lips apart. Heat wrapped itself around her like the hot sun scorching her skin. A new sensation enveloped her, making her heartbeat heavy. The feeling reminded her of when the swamp ogre had scared her. The feeling of danger she felt then, was what she was feeling now. This sent alarm bells ringing through her head.

  Mustering all her strength, she tore away from the kiss and broke free. Before she knew what she was doing, her open hand came up and landed across the cheek of the man. Her palm stung where it met his flesh. She was breathing shallow and rapidly as though she’d been running.

  They stared at each other while Catrain tried to steady her breathing and unpredictable heartbeat. When the Fire Knight stepped close to her once more, she raised her hand to slap him again, but he caught the hand and brought it to his lips. Where his lips touched the skin of her palm, felt as if she’d lifted a live coal in her hand.

  With a sharp intake of breath, Catrain tried to pull away, but her face burned and she found she’d stopped breathing altogether.