Knight Purged

by Jason Hamilton

  Una raised an eyebrow at him. “Men of your kind are rare. It’s unlike most to have no allegiances.”

  “I stand with the Britons,” he clarified. “But I serve no man but myself. I’ve found that men, especially lords, are too often unpredictable, swayed by their emotions.”

  “And you are not?”

  “I have emotions, yes, but I’ve spent my entire life learning to master them. I will not become...what some have become.”

  His eyes had gone dark at that moment, and Una sensed there was more there. “And the woman, Amavia. She was something to you, wasn’t she. You knew her.”

  He paused, glancing at Una, and she held his gaze. He had to know it was obvious, from the way he had reacted to her plight and death.

  “She…” he began, but broke off. “I think she was my sister.”

  Una’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that. An old flame perhaps, or a distant relative, but a sister? How had he not known her the moment they stumbled across her and her husband?

  “You think? Wouldn’t you know her?”

  “We were separated at a very young age,” he clarified. “But her name was Amavia, she is...was about the right age, and it would fit that she grew up in Anglesey. That’s where we lost her.”

  “What happened?” Una probed further.

  Guyon paused. “I...do not wish to discuss this further.”

  Una wanted to ask more questions, but let the matter drop for now. After all, she wasn’t telling him everything either. Instead, she switched the subject back a step. “So you’re from Anglesey then?”

  “I’m originally from Cornwall,” he said, the darkness fleeing his face, and he was back in good spirits again. “But I haven’t been there in some years. I went and trained in Londinium for a time, and I’ve traveled abroad. Even made it as far as Rome itself.”

  “Really?” replied Una with genuine surprise. “I didn’t take you for someone friendly to the Romans.”

  “On the contrary, I think the Romans are, or were at least, the pinnacle of civilization. Wherever they’ve gone, they have brought order and stability with them. It’s thanks to wild men like the Saxons that they’ve been forced to retreat.”

  “I spent some time in Londinium,” she said. “And I’m not sure I think of them so highly.”

  “Londinium is nothing compared to Rome,” his face took on a distant look. “That city is more than the center of a once glorious empire, it is the seat of technology, mathematics, and art. Even the buildings exemplify perfect structure mixed with the creative mind.”

  Una ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch. “If you like the Romans so much, why not ally yourself with them? You could fare worse.”

  “That is not my purpose,” he replied, squaring his shoulders and looking down at the babe, who was now asleep in his arms, remembering their mission. “Even the Romans are not without their flaws. Their order has been corrupted by power-hungry men. That, coupled with the threat of the Saxons and other barbaric tribes will eventually lead to their downfall. I am a servant of order, of control over oneself, and I intend to spread that doctrine.”

  “And so you serve the Faerie Queen?” Una asked, cautiously.

  Guyon shot her a glance, “You do not speak of her as though you appreciate who she is?”

  “In my experience, no one is to be fully trusted.”

  He nodded, “Perhaps that is the case. But the Faerie Queen is a servant of a higher power, one whose sole purpose is to maintain order throughout the land.”

  “You mean the way she guards the gates of Annwyn?”

  “In part, yes. There is no doubt that keeping unknown threats away from our world is part of her mandate. Yet there is more, I’m sure of it. Those who serve her have found their balance. They do not shirk their duties nor let their own passions drive them.”

  “Maybe,” Una frowned, remembering the knights she had seen in the Forest of Arden, and the strange armor they had worn. But now George was one of those knights, and he certainly did not seem to fit the same mold, but perhaps with time he would have the same bearing. “So it’s your goal to become one of those knights.”

  “By her ladyship’s command, I think I may consider myself one of her servants already,” he replied, puffing out his chest ever so slightly.

  Una hid a smirk. Guyon thought he was so in command of his emotions, but his pride still shone through like a beacon, with just a hint of arrogance. She could only hope he could learn his lessons before they caused any problems.

  He is a self-centered ruin of a man who will kill us as soon as he learns the truth.

  Una swallowed and tried not to keep her expression neutral as she pushed the voices down.

  He’s not so bad, said another voice. The timid one. I kind of like him.

  Mm, came a third voice, I like him too, those shoulders are enough to make a woman…

  Quiet girls. Una panicked as she identified yet a fourth voice. Each sounded a lot like herself, but there were differences to each. This one was more confident, more commanding. You’re upsetting the girl. Leave her be or we will never get a chance to be used again.

  Una frowned. Were they talking about her? She must be going mad. Not only were there multiple voices in her head, but they were talking about her as though she wasn’t there.

  Oh, we know you’re there, girl, said the fourth voice, the confident one. But don’t expect too many explanations. We have none to give you.

  Who are you? Una thought.

  As I said, replied the voice, we have no explanations. We are you, nothing more.

  Get out of my head, Una thought, harder. Clearly these were some kind of beings born of magic or some darkness. She had to find a way of banishing them away, out of her head. If she did not, then she would surely go insane.

  But it is our head too, said the confident voice.

  They kept silent after that, but the voices stayed on Una’s mind for the remainder of the day. She said very little to Guyon from that point onward, less inclined to think about him, and more concerned for herself. What would she do if these voices only increased? So far, she had identified four distinct personalities, like her own personas given voice. She had to find a way of banishing them entirely.

  So she walked in silence, taking her turn with the baby, but not thinking much of it as they walked. She’d lost all eyes for the child’s adorable nature and barely noticed when it became time to change or feed the thing. She simply moved through the motions with hardly a thought. Her mind was elsewhere.

  That night she dreamt a familiar dream, one that she had not seen in several weeks. She was sitting atop a large hill, overlooking all of Britain. No, it wasn’t just Britain. She could see the whole world from here. That was different than the last time she’d had the same dream.

  The Earth itself split open, and out of it emerged great hordes of demons and unspeakable creatures. They were led by a many-headed dragon, like something out of Roman legends.

  The creature consumed all of what lay around it, growing larger and larger until it filled the whole Earth. And in its eyes, she saw her own face. No, not in its eyes. Each of the dragon’s heads was her face.

  Una woke with a start, cold sweat covering her from head to foot. She scrambled to her feet and reached for her knife. But there was nothing there, no multi-headed dragon, no enemies to speak of. Unconsciously, she felt at her own body. She was still herself, with exactly the right number of limbs.

  She’d had that dream before, several times in fact. But at the time she’d thought it nothing more than her obsession with defeating the dragon at Castle Silene. She’d seen the dream as a manifestation of her fears. But what if it was more? It had felt so real.

  She glanced down at Guyon, who lay on the other side of the diminished fire pit, cradling the baby in his arms, the baby that, were his suspicions true, was his nephew. For once, it was a calm night. Even the baby was fast asleep. If Una hadn’t been so disconcerted from her dream, she would h
ave melted at the sight of the two of them sleeping so peacefully together.

  But a dream like this took on new meaning now, after hearing the voices in her head. She thought of the many heads the creature had taken, and how they all looked like her. What if that had something to do with her many voices?

  Are you the creature in my dream, she mentally asked herself. What are you?

  But there was no answer. The crickets continued to chirp, and the wind blew lazily through the trees. It was a peaceful night, with nothing of great concern anywhere near them. But that did not stop Una from feeling uneasy. It was enough to keep her up for the remainder of the night, until the sky began to lighten in the east and the child eventually awoke, waking Guyon with his gurgles.

  It was time to continue onward, and she would just have to deal with the voices.

  7

  She didn’t have the dream again for the next few days of travel, but that did not stop it from disturbing her. After her first initial conversations with Guyon, they both traveled mostly in silence, as neither seemed to have much to say. Though Una almost wished Guyon would speak more. It would keep her thoughts from dwelling on the dream and on the voices inside her head.

  They traveled though beautiful mountains and steep valleys, some filled with farmers and fisherman, but others empty of all human habitation. Occasionally they would spot old ruins, likely from the Romans, though Una had once heard of the tyrant, Vortigern, once taking refuge in this area. It was a beautiful journey, though she hardly ever spared a moment to take it all in. There was too much to think about.

  The journey was long with the baby in tow. But eventually, three weeks after they had initially set out, they came to a large, stone bridge, covered with what looked like a small fortress and gate guarding the entrance.

  “That will be the bridge to get to Anglesey,” said Guyon.

  Una stared at the bridge. It was a marvel of engineering, with great stone archways holding up the road and carrying it for nearly a half mile across the divide. Beyond, most of the land was divided into segments for farming and grazing. They hadn’t encountered many people on the road to get here, but clearly this was a place of civilization.

  “It’s amazing,” she said.

  “Yes, I’m honestly impressed,” replied Guyon. “The Romans haven’t occupied this area for years, and I thought it would have fallen into disarray in their absence. It appears the opposite is true.”

  They crept forward, until they reached the foot of the bridge. Ahead of them stood two towers with a gate blocking the road. Una could just make out a number of people sitting atop the walls.

  “Do you think they’ll even let us in? We could find another way across.” Una offered.

  “We could, but we can’t ford the water. It is too deep for my horse, and we can’t swim with the baby. Which means we’d have to travel along the coast here for miles until we find someone with a boat willing to ferry us across.”

  “So it’s true that all of Anglesey is an island, then? There’s no place to cross on land?”

  He shook his head. “No, we can only get there by bridge or boat. And we’re running out of food for the infant.”

  Una stared across the divide at all the farmland beyond. They were likely to find plentiful milk and fruit for the child on that side.

  “Well then,” she said, stepping forward. “We just have to hope that they’re willing to let us pass.”

  “They rely on trade with the rest of the Britons, as well as the Scots,” offered Guyon. “They don’t keep everyone out.”

  Together, they crept forward, taking their first steps on the stone bridge, until they were partway across the water and staring up at the great gate that kept them from crossing.

  “State your purpose?” called a voice from above, one of the soldiers guarding the entrance.

  “We are simple travelers,” called Guyon. “We’re bringing this baby to find a suitable home here. His parents were killed in the wilderness.”

  A pause, then, “And the girl?”

  “My guide, nothing more,” said Guyon. Una glanced at him. She wasn’t exactly a guide. He knew these lands better than she, but she supposed it wasn’t exactly a lie. She was his guide in a different sense. That was what the Faerie Queen had asked her to be at least, for all the help she was.

  “Why not take the child elsewhere? There are plenty of villages nearby where it could find a home.”

  “We’ve heard nothing but praise for the hospitality and quality of character on Anglesey.” Guyon responded. Una hid her smirk. Despite Guyon’s stiffness and rather uptight attitude, he did seem to know how to get on a person’s good side. Everyone except for Una, that was. Oh, she liked him well enough, but his holier-than-thou approach could get tedious at times.

  One of the guards on top of the gate signaled to the others, after which he climbed down a ladder and disappeared over the other side of the wall.

  The signal must have been to open the gates, for at that moment, there was a creak as the giant wooden doors swung wide, and they were greeted by the soldier who had spoken up top, accompanied by a handful of others. Una tried counting them all. Including those on top of the gates, there looked to be only a half-dozen.

  Together with Sir Guyon, she stepped forward, holding the child close to her chest.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere, Sir Knight,” said the man as they approached.

  “You may call me Sir Guyon.”

  “Well, Sir Guyon, I hope you will forgive the formalities. We have orders to question all who do not already have a pass to the island.”

  “I did not know such things were commonplace these days.”

  “Over the last few years, Saxon activity to the east and various squabbles with the Kingdom of Orkney have made it necessary. But we will let you in if you can pay the fee for a pass.”

  “A fee?” Guyon’s eyebrows drew close together. “How much?”

  “Ten silver pieces, or two gold if you have them. I’m sorry but we don’t accept Roman currency.”

  For the first time since arriving, Guyon looked taken aback. “I can hardly carry so much with me. We need what we have to pay for food for the little one, and there’s always the threat of attack when carrying that much coin.”

  “You seem capable enough,” said the soldier without blinking. His arms were relaxed, but Una thought she could see some of the others tense behind him.

  “What’s to stop us from just leaving and fording the divide elsewhere?” she interjected.

  The soldier gave her a short look, as though surprised that she was speaking. “We have patrols to stop that very thing from happening. You may get past them, sure. But if you don’t, you’ll wish you had paid the ten silver instead.”

  Una rolled her eyes, then fished in her pouch for two gold coins. She’d conned them off some men in a dice game months ago now, though it felt like years. She hadn’t had much use for them, up to this point, but she’d rather avoid a confrontation when she could do something about it.

  The soldier’s eyes widened as she produced the gold coins, handing them over. Guyon also stared at her, his face stunned. In fact, all of them were staring. Hadn’t they seen a woman with money before?

  “I...very well,” said the soldier. He ruffled through his own pouch until he extracted a small piece of parchment with an official seal and fancy calligraphy. He handed it over to Una’s outstretched palm.

  “Thank you,” she said, dryly, glancing down at the paper.

  This writ and seal authorize access to Anglesey and the Southern Isles for the bearer and up to three companions. By order of King Pellinore, lord of the Southern Isles.

  Una felt the blood drain from her face. Pellinore.

  No, she could not react now. They had to get through the gate first.

  Folding the piece of parchment up neatly and storing it in her pouch, she smiled at the soldier and said, “May we go then?” Guyon narrowed his eyes at her, but said nothing. God
s, the man was too observant for his own good.

  “Uh, yes,” said the soldier, moving out of her way, still seemingly surprised that she had produced the desired coin. The other soldiers followed suit, and soon she, the baby, Guyon, and his horse were making their way past the gate, over the bridge, and out into the largest of the Southern Isles.

  When they were safely out of earshot and line of sight from the bridge, she rounded on Guyon. “Pellinore lives here?”

  Guyon seemed taken aback by her sudden intensity. “Yes. He’s the king of all the Southern Isles. Did you not know that?”

  The revelation stirred something in her memory from all those years ago. Perhaps she had known where Pellinore lived, though she had long forgotten. Her obsession with returning to Castle Silene had long trumped her bitterness for Pellinore. But she had definitely known he lived to the northwest. She just hadn’t been certain it was Anglesey.

  “I’m just now remembering,” she said, staring into the distance.

  “You seem to know him,” said Guyon, carefully. “Perhaps without much affection?”

  Una set her jaw. She hadn’t told him of her imprisonment in Londinium, or how she had gotten there. “It’s nothing,” she said, and decided to lie. “He knew my parents, nothing more.”

  “I see,” Guyon nodded his head, thoughtfully. It was clear he didn’t believe her, by the way he met her eyes. But he didn’t pry any further, and for that much, Una was grateful.

  They stopped briefly at a farmhouse where they were able to procure fresh milk for the child, as well as some fruit and cheese, but there wasn’t much. They would need to find another, larger town to find more. They soon found themselves in route to the other side of the island, though given what Una knew about the size of the island, that could take several days since they were carrying a child.

  The farmers were not inclined to take the child, however. And...well part of Una couldn’t blame them. A child was an enormous responsibility, and from the sound of things, word of disappearing husbands had spread.

  “We don’t want any child displaced by that sorcery,” said the woman of the house. “It’ll bring a curse on our heads, sure as day it will. But if you keep your path on to the Holy Island, you might find someone there to keep the lad.”