The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight

by Donald Allen Kirch

  "It is who she was that she wants to remember, wizard." Jatel turned defensive. "It is all good. Ka-Ron, as a man, was a noble master. I have no complaints. He was, and has been, a dear friend."

  "You, my boy, are a fool." With that, Keeth darted his horse out, turned around, and trotted beside Ka-Ron's.

  "Wizard?"

  "Ka-Ron, are the knights of Idoshia fools?"

  The knight was taken aback by the wizard's anger. She could not understand why someone of his rank would be so negative at such a time in their journey. Her son was about to be healed, and she to be given back the birthright that was hers.

  "You know that we are not, sir."

  "Sir? You address me as sir?" The wizard's anger rose. "By what right do you treat us all so? We are your companions and friends. The things and wonders we have shared!"

  "I am an errant-knight, wizard," Ka-Ron huffed. "It is time I remember my place. And, if I should be so bold to say so, so should you."

  Keeth reacted as if the knight had slapped him along the bridge of his nose. He had been genuinely hurt. He didn't say a word, or respond in a way he normally would have. Instead, he just broke ranks and rejoined Jatel.

  "You see?" the squire grumbled.

  "I cannot understand," the wizard said, ponding. "Could her slip of bravery and the regret of her cowardice have shifted her reality so much?"

  Jatel played with the thought in his head, and ultimately shook it off.

  "I cannot believe that, sir," Jatel stated, pulling back on his horse so that both he and the wizard could see eye-to-eye. "There is a greater fear at play here."

  "Perhaps. One so obvious that no one can see it."

  Jatel became interested.

  "Go on, wizard?"

  "It is not my place to say."

  "You haven't been shy yet," Jatel reminded him, smiling.

  "Perhaps, just perhaps," Keeth mused, "she is more male than we have been led to believe."

  The squire looked over his shoulder and back toward his master. Ka-Ron and Rolmore were discussing something. He saw the knight laugh and pat the elf captain upon his shoulder.

  "In what way, wizard, are we comparing her?"

  "Like any young man who is suddenly faced with genuine love," the wizard stated. "She is running away to what she knows is&safe! It's pitiful, really. When will men learn that love is not the enemy? Fear is the only true enemy."

  Jatel played the formula around in his mind, and it did make sense.

  But how could he, a lowly squire, convince a knight of the blood he has been a fool? Answer: he could not. So, it was his duty as a squire to accept the situation and just do his duty.

  "That which we are, wizard, we are."

  "Son," Keeth huffed, "you just cannot give up so easily."

  "I await my chance, sir." Jatel insisted. "That is all."

  "Do not wait too long."

  The matter was set aside for the moment.

  En-Don required rest.

  The party discovered a fresh stream and an oasis. It was thought best to wait over for the night, so that all could start fresh in the morning.

  No one even considered that they were being watched.

  ***

  The people of Ur had been going through some hard times. There was a curse in the land, making it almost impossible for any farmer in the region to grow crops. Most food had to be sailed in from neighboring nations. And, like most in hard times, they tried their best to make a profit. Goods and liquors were raised to prices no honest person could afford. Beyond the aegis of the Wicca Masters, hunger was an everyday fact here.

  So, in order to make ends meet, some turned to highway robbery.

  Upon spotting the small group of travelers leaving the strange but small wooden boat, Tur-Kel and his men spotted the best opportunity they had encountered in over a season. To have such a vessel, and keep to both elves and women amongst them, these few travelers had to have copper and food. It would be a grand target indeed.

  The bandits followed their prey to the oasis.

  Tur-Kel had once been the timid son of a bookshop owner. At best, he had been destined to take his father's place once the elder man had passed to the next world. Born to privilege, he was once a fat, awkward, and totally non-interesting brat ignored by most people and laughed at by women interested in more exciting treasures.

  That is what Tur-Kel was.

  After his father got killed by thieves, his store got burnt to the ground, and he himself got thrown out onto the streets after the funeral, Tur-Kel's eyes were open to the truth. One has what one can take. Only fools live with regret.

  Like him, his men all had a sad story to tell. It was a sign of the times.

  They were thirty in all, each one just as hungry as they were desperate for a way off the island. Tur-Kel did not trust any of them, but all had proven their use in thieving. In the end, that was all that was necessary.

  "When do we strike?" a fellow thief had whispered.

  "Be careful, fool!" Tur-Kel insisted, lowering his voice. "There are elves in their ranks. Elves have big ears, and they will hear us far before they see us coming."

  The warning was not taken in stride.

  "Be patient, my friend," Tur-Kel stated. "They will know they have guests soon enough."

  With a wave of his hand, Tur-Kel gave the signal to attack.

  ***

  Dorian noticed Rohan staring out into the darkness. The campfire glowed brightly. causing the surrounding area to become inhospitably dark. It often was curious to the dwarf how that odd fact had always worked itself out. The woman was getting quite used to staying in female form. What was more, she was enjoying it.

  "Rohan?" Dorian asked, holding up a plate of food. "Are you hungry?"

  "Thank you," the elf said, taking the dish.

  Dorian beamed with genuine affection as she sashayed close to her love. As a matter of respect, Rohan wrapped his free arm around her, hugging and showing his support.

  "I fear that En-Don is getting weaker," Dorian stated. "I hope all goes well for him."

  "If it is his fate to live, my love, nothing will change the outcome." Rohan chewed his food, making a face. "Who cooked this?"

  Dorian's face turned hard. "Your brother."

  Rohan handed the plate back to the dwarf. He was finished.

  "My brother may be a great military commander, but his ability to cook is not at the top of the list of his accomplishments."

  The comedy did not pass either of them. Both broke out in laughter.

  "Rohan?" Dorian asked, her hand grasping the elf's.

  "Yes?"

  "What shall become of the two of you?"

  Rohan gave the answer some thought. He shrugged his shoulders.

  "Mine is not the only elfin nation, you know."

  "I know."

  "We will seek allies," Rohan promised, kissing Dorian on top of her head. "We will attack. We will win back our freedom."

  Dorian started to pat her stomach, which was starting to show the signs of a "baby bump."

  "I want my child born in your house, my dear."

  The elf was amazed at how "far" Dorian had come along.

  "My dear, how fast do dwarf women have their children?"

  "Some have had them in less time than a full luna, my dear. My mother took only six phases to carry me."

  "What a wonderful world, to have such mysteries in it."

  "Be warned, my love&" Dorian smiled. "Dwarves have been known to have more than one child per birthing."

  "You are going to bring me vast amounts of worry, are you not?" Rohan joked.

  Dorian popped up on the tips of her toes, giving Rohan a long and loving kiss. "I am your woman, dear. It is my job to make you worry."

  Rohan let out an amused laugh.

  Dorian gave him a wink.

  Both were the first in the encampment to spot the thieves.

  ***

  Tur-Kel sat, with flintlock in hand, watching as his men rumma
ged through each bag, box, and case the travelers had with them. Surprisingly, they found nothing but food, wine, and medical supplies. Each quantity of supplies would fetch a handsome price on the black market, but the combined worth of it all was barely enough to justify their raid.

  "They give us nothing!" a member of the horde yelled. "Nothing but a dying man and an old wizard!"

  All eyes turned to Dorian, who, by pure instinct, had reverted back to his male self. Tapping his foot and with his arms folded in defiance, the dwarf did not appear happy. Knowing he was being stared at, Dorian burped.

  "Dwarves are known to carry gold, silver, and copper with them," Tur-Kel said, pointing his weapon in a challenge.

  "Not on a quest, you moron!" Dorian yelled. "Oh, if I had my ax!"

  This last caused Rolmore to giggle a little.

  Big mistake.

  The bandits started beating the elf captain, causing blue blood to drip from the soldier's mouth. In an act of surrender, Rolmore tried putting his hand up in the air, but the elf had been good sport&more so than anyone had in these parts for quite some time.

  Tur-Kel himself was looking for something to do.

  "Excuse me," a soft voice said.

  Tur-Kel turned.

  Ka-Ron curtsied. "Dear sir, we are on an errand of mercy. Please, we seek the Wicca Master Kai. We have been told that her hut is in the city of Ur. Are we in error? Have we broken some kind of ordnance?"

  Tur-Kel did his best to control his reactions. The woman before him was the loveliest he had ever encountered. With his men watching, he knew he had to be bold.

  "Unfortunately, my lady, these are hard times for us all." Tur-Kel raised his hands in bravado, causing all the bandits under him to respond with a rebellious yell. "In order to use this road, for you to travel to the city of Ur, you must first pay a toll."

  Ka-Ron's face turned solemn.

  "We are all unfortunate after traveling so far," the knight explained. "Perhaps, you can inform us of another less expensive road to Ur."

  "Alas, this is the only road." the bandit leader said curtly, and laughed.

  "We have no money."

  "Then, you shall not pass." the bandit's harsh glance informed Ka-Ron that he was deadly serious in his statements.

  Ka-Ron glanced at her son, En-Don. He was not looking well, despite the optimism of Kai's most recent alliance with them. The young man was doing a superb job at trying to appear in good spirits, but Ka-Ron was no stranger to the battlefield. She knew when death was circling its prey. En-Don needed the services of the Wicca Master, and fast.

  "Sir," Ka-Ron pleaded, closing her eyes, "my son is in need of medical services. He needs to go to Ur."

  "It is a pity for you," Tur-Kel blustered. "To be both broke and in need."

  This last statement caused his men to laugh.

  Both Rohan and Rolmore held tightly to their weapons. Each time a fellow bandit approached them, the elves challenged with a stern glare. Rolmore's injuries were starting to heal, but he could still feel the harm that had been applied to him. No one challenged the elves further.

  No bandit had the courage.

  Dorian, still camouflaging himself as a male dwarf, kicked at the shin of a bandit who dared to walk within his range of attack. The bandit cursed a few times, holding dearly to his injured leg. The dwarf held back a satisfied snort of mirth.

  "Dear sir," Ka-Ron said, being desperate. Her voice trembled. "He is my only son."

  The camp turned quiet.

  Each could hear the desperation of the knight.

  Tur-Kel still possessed a tinge of what had once been a good and noble soul. But the rumbling of his empty stomach had ruled over his hearts. It would not do for him simply to allow these people to pass. He had to get "something" from the bargain if he were to still lead his men.

  Tur-Kel grabbed Ka-Ron by her chin.

  This action caused Jatel to bolt forward from his group. Keeth tried his best to hold the squire back, but the bandit's actions had enraged Jatel so much that he was not open to sage advice. The squire acted from his heart.

  "Let&her&go!" Jatel ordered.

  "You protest?" Tur-Kel asked.

  "I'll do more than that if you do not release her, now."

  "You risk much."

  Jatel took out his sword and pointed the weapon at Tur-Kel.

  "And so do you!"

  Several bandits took out hand-held flintlocks, new inventions that seemed to take most of the group by surprise, and pointed them at the brave squire. Keeth tried his best to calm Jatel. The squire was in real danger. One person, although backed by strong and honest morals, could not take on an army alone.

  "Son, I beg you," the wizard pleaded. "Think of your son."

  Jatel lowered his sword, but he would not surrender it from the steadfast fortress of his hands. A bandit did try to take it, and was briskly thrown to the ground.

  Tur-Kel liked Jatel.

  "You seek to protect this lass?"

  "She is my universe, sir."

  Upon hearing Jatel's words, Ka-Ron beamed with happiness. Almost to the point of tears, the knight's face showed her honest pride in her squire's bravery and proclamation.

  "Indeed?"

  An idea entered Tur-Kel's mind: a devilish idea.

  "There is a service you can provide, my dear."

  "Name it!" Ka-Ron said, desperate.

  "Allow me the honor of your&company."

  The bandits cheered their leader onward.

  Tur-Kel raised his hand, silently ordering his men to cease.

  "What say you?"

  Ka-Ron paused. She was so sure that her life as a woman would be coming to an end soon, that she hadn't considered the fact that she would have to perform once more. However, all this was for the life of her son. What would be the harm in the doing? Life, after all, was more important than honor.

  It took all of Ka-Ron's will to open her mouth. "If that is what it takes to save the life of my child, sir," Ka-Ron said, low in voice. "Then, lead on." The woman bowed, openly accepting Tur-Kel's existence.

  "Ka-Ron!" Jatel shouted, his voice strong and enraged. "No!"

  "Stay in your place, squire!" Ka-Ron ordered.

  "Indeed," Tur-Kel advised.

  If Jatel had been slapped in the face by his mother, he couldn't have projected as much pain. Slowly, as if recovering from the exhaustive energy of a bad dream, he surrendered his sword back into its sheath.

  "Do not hate so much, son," Keeth whispered. "She does this for your son's sake."

  The squire would not listen. Pushing a bandit away in defiance, the squire retreated into the woods. No one challenged his disrespect. Although bandits, the men understood Jatel's reactions. Still, they cheered Tur-Kel on, all being jealous of his conquest.

  "Lucky bastard!" one yelled.

  "When doing her, think of us!" another offered.

  Tur-Kel took Ka-Ron, leading her towards privacy.

  ***

  What was Jatel to do?

  No matter how he had felt, or strongly believed, his master would always feel otherwise. Having gone through so much, only to be back slapped so far was humiliating, and it made the squire feel both isolated and deeply used.

  "Ka-Ron&" he cried, sitting upon a stump.

  The man was broken.

  He had given his love nobly, only to have it harshly ignored and ripped away. Why would the knight treat him so?

  "She did it for our son," Jatel tried to tell himself.

  Was he being selfish? Was he putting his own pride above that of his son's?

  It was time for him to face the truth.

  He was&a squire.

  Nothing more.

  Meek, defeated, Jatel returned to his friends.

  ***

  "Here!"

  Ka-Ron turned, letting her hands reach out and remove her clothes. She did all that she could to look both relaxed and tempting. It was so easy for her to escape the reality of the situation by retreating into
the fantasy of her mind. Her only focus was on how Jatel was going to take all of this. She had been treating him terribly, of late, but that was necessary. If she were to be turned back into a man, their relationship would have to change.

  But all she could think about, besides the fact that the weather was too cold to be stripping in the woods, were the squire's proclamations of his love to her. His bravery. His unarguable affection.

  It is best that he forget me.

  Tur-Kel had removed his clothes and adjusted himself.

  "My lady, let's start paying the toll." he smirked.

  Ka-Ron got to her knees, taking considerations towards the man's sex. She closed her eyes, allowing her tongue to introduce suggestions of both activation and excitement. Enveloping his essence, she started to do her work.

  It was a complete, absolute, and total invasion of herself as a person.

  The pain was unbearable.

  Ka-Ron started to cry.

  "Get at it, woman!" the bandit ordered, taking hold of Ka-Ron's hair and forcing her to continue.

  Fighting the pain, the knight sucked.

  There was a force at work inside the knight, allowing her both to ignore and to stay focused at what she had to do. She bore in mind the fact that she was doing what was necessary for her son, En-Don.

  Ka-Ron winced as the man shot deep into her throat the seeds of his own soul. He continued to hold her by the base of the neck, making sure that she performed correctly. Although an evil man, he knew what to expect from the women he used.

  "Now, upon your back!"

  Ka-Ron had only to obey.

  Tur-Kel leered at the woman's beauty as he hovered above her body. He played with her breasts, and poked at her, finally kissing and enveloping her as a whole.

  The knight continued with her tears.

  "Jatel&" she whispered. "Oh, Jatel."

  Had Ka-Ron been as evil? As a man, had she used women so?

  For the first time, she seemed to understand the pain Kym had felt on that fateful day, so long ago. Ka-Ron seemed to understand the beating of a woman's heart, so much more.

  And she began to reconsider.

  ***

  Tur-Kel returned several cycles later.

  Both he and Jatel exchanged harsh glances.

  The squire, upon returning to camp, had been welcomed by his friends and invited to share the warmth of their fire. When he entered, none of the bandits, as brave and in control as they were, could seem to look him in the eye.