by Chuck Black
They emerged in a watery cave, and the Yagormoth swam slowly across a small, still pool. Bentley had expected the cavern to be pitch black, but a soft blue light illumed it. Bentley lifted Eirwyn's head out of the water once again, and she recovered her air as the creature made its way to a gentle incline that led up and out of the water.
The Yagormoth tried to climb up the easy slope, but it stumbled and slid back into the water. Bentley put his feet down and was able to just touch the floor. He waited for the beast to turn and devour them, but it did not. It tried once more to walk up the incline, shuddered, and collapsed.
Bentley and Eirwyn waited a long time before they realized the Yagormoth wasn't breathing. Apparently Bentley had wounded it fatally and it had come home to die.
Carefully they made their way up the incline near the head of the creature and nearly collapsed from exhaustion. The beast convulsed, and they jumped in terror, but its eyes did not open. It was over.
Then the Yagormoth's body slowly began to slide down the slope and back into the water. Bentley and Eirwyn looked at each other in disbelief as the rope slowly pulled taut again, dragging Eirwyn with it.
Bentley worked desperately to untangle the rope from the beast's mouth, but it was closed shut like a vise. He tried to untie the knot that encircled her wrist, but it would not loosen. Bentley pulled against the weight of the slipping mass, but his efforts made no difference.
“Bentley,” Eirwyn pleaded, “help me!” Slowly the dead monster slipped backward until Eirwyn was forced back into the water, fighting to keep her head above the surface.
Bentley screamed against the inevitable. My Prince, this far to lose her now?
The image of the Prince flashed across his mind, and then he thought of his sword. He dived into the water near the sinking belly of the Yagormoth and hoped against hope that his weapon had not been dislodged. He ran his hand along the belly until his hand felt the golden hilt. He used his feet as leverage and pulled the sword from the Yagormoth's abdomen.
The creature was now falling quickly, and Bentley wasted no time in bringing the sword to bear against the rope. He made a loop in it and sliced with all his strength. After two attempts, he severed the rope; then he grabbed Eirwyn by the waist and lifted her to the surface once again. They crawled up the incline and sat next to each other, dazed by what felt like a lifetime of peril. And yet they had survived!
After a moment of recovery, Bentley took Eirwyn's hand and cut through the rope about her wrist, finally freeing her from its death grip. She rubbed the chafed skin, then leaned forward and hugged Bentley. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.
Then she leaned back and looked at him, her eyes widened in concern. “You're hurt.”
Only then did he realize that the bandage had disappeared from the cut on his shoulder, and the wound was bleeding again. But he barely felt the throbbing as he gazed into her eyes. Even now, exhausted and bruised and bleeding herself, she was more concerned about him than about herself. Her tender heart radiated nobility, mercy, kindness. He never wanted to be away from her again.
And apparently she felt the same way.
“Just a commoner?” She smiled. “I think not!”
“Touché,” he said and smiled back.
RETURN TO
HOLBROOK
Bentley realized the soft blue light in the cavern came from two directions—the watery tunnel the Yagormoth had brought them through and, in a lesser amount, the far end of the cavern. He left Eirwyn to rest and went to investigate, but the light was diminishing quickly as night drew near.
Before it grew so dark that they dared not move about, they found the Yagormoth's dirt and gravel bed. Though foul-smelling and strewn with bones, it was still softer to lie upon than the granite and limestone of the rest of the cavern. They rested there together as the cavern became thick with darkness. Before long, Bentley could not even see his own hand when he held it before his eyes. Eirwyn clung to his arm in the darkness.
Though the ground was hard, the exhaustion of the previous day pressed them both deeply into sleep. Once, in the middle of the night, Eirwyn cried out and Bentley reached for her.
“I'm here,” he said, and she clung to his arm once again. It seemed to chase away her nightmares of the previous day, and they slept until the dim blue light of morning returned.
Upon further investigation, Bentley and Eirwyn discovered that the cavern cut deep into the mountain ridge. Bentley wasn't sure how far the Yagormoth had swum to bring them through the tunnel, but he was quite certain they could not return that way They simply would not have enough air to make it without the powerful strokes of the beast dragging them.
They decided to travel farther into the cavern, hoping for another way out. Bentley deduced that the small stream flowing through the cavern had to exit somewhere, but he feared the passageway might be too narrow for them. However, the light grew with each step they took across the jagged floor, and before long they spied an opening into the morning light outside.
They carefully exited the cavern, watching for signs of the Lucrums. Bentley took a moment to orient himself and realized this was the same side of the ridge he had circled to spy on the Lucrums’ camp. They were just farther east than before. They made their way west along the rugged ridge until they found Silverwood calmly munching a mouthful of meadow grass.
Bentley's shoulder wound had already scabbed over again, but Eirwyn bandaged it as best she could with strips torn from his extra tunic. Then Bentley saddled the gelding, mounted, and lifted Eirwyn up behind him. She put her arms tightly around his waist as they navigated down some challenging terrain. He charted his course farther south to avoid any possible contact with the Lucrums, then set his course for Holbrook.
“Who are you really?” Eirwyn asked when they reached the northern land of the Brimshire Plains. She leaned to Bentley's right and forward to see his face better.
Bentley looked over his shoulder. “I come from Chessington and am—I was—a Noble Knight.”
Eirwyn raised one eyebrow as if waiting for more details. Even that simple expression delighted him. He smiled at her and nearly laughed at himself. He turned his attention to the country ahead.
“My father is also a Noble Knight,” he went on, “and owns a trading company that is very successful. Serving the King as Noble Knights has been a generational honor in our family But a few years ago, something changed all of that.”
Bentley paused as he remembered what had driven him from his home. Eirwyn did not press him, for she seemed to sense the struggle of his heart.
He turned and looked at Eirwyn once more. “You could say that a gardener came into my life too.”
Eirwyn became thoughtful and then leaned her head against his back. The journey ahead was long, and he was in no hurry to find its end. For the two days it would take to travel home, all the kingdom he needed was already with him.
As they journeyed, Bentley shared with Eirwyn his story and the story of the Prince, and her heart embraced it as though she had been waiting her whole life to hear it. Bentley realized that though she never actually knew of the Prince, her heart was one after the King's own. No wonder he loved her so.
Bentley kept a lookout for Sir Demus and his knights, but he knew that they would have had to travel without stopping to even make Holbrook by this time. His time in the Lucrum camp had been intense but also brief—not nearly enough time for Demus to gather a force and travel that distance.
When they neared Holbrook, Eirwyn insisted that she return to the castle immediately, for her father would be worried. She also insisted that they enter through the back gate, for she did not want the people to know who she was. The gate guards recognized her immediately however, and one was dispatched to notify her father.
“Eirwyn!” Lord Kingsley came running with Lord Braith and Sir Avarick in his wake.
“You're alive!” he cried out as he embraced his daughter.
“Yes, Father.” She hugged him
tightly.
“We were worried, my lady.” Sir Avarick put on a show of concern while he scrutinized Bentley closely “When you didn't return, we searched and found your dead servant and a wagon. We thought the Lucrums must have—”
“What's he doing here, masquerading as someone other than the peasant he is?” Braith interrupted, casting a haughty eye at Bentley. “Eirwyn, must you continually embarrass us by surrounding yourself with these commoners? At times I wonder if you're even my sister.”
Eirwyn walked to stand beside Bentley and glared at her brother. “Bentley risked his life to save mine, Brother. He is much more than—”
Bentley touched Eirwyn's arm and interrupted her.
“Lord Kingsley I'm not sure how the Lucrums will react to my having foiled their sacrificial sport, but I would have Sir Avarick and his men on alert.”
Avarick stepped forward with fire in his eyes, as if he wanted to tear Bentley to pieces.
“The security of this court is my concern, not that of a… a…”
Kingsley held up his hand and addressed Eirwyn. “You were taken by the Lucrums and escaped?”
“Yes, Father. That's what I've been trying to tell you. Bentley came to their village and killed the lake leviathan to save me. We owe him our gratitude, not our condescension.”
Kingsley moved closer to Bentley and stared at him. “A financial advisor with courage and fighting skills. What other surprises have you for us, Bentley?” Then he smiled. “Come, you must stay with us. It seems I owe you a great debt.”
Braith threw back his head and turned away. He called for a servant to bring his horse to him. “This is preposterous.” He sniffed over his shoulder. “I'm going to visit Adrianna. I may be back in the morning.” Avarick watched him go, then turned a narrowed gaze toward Bentley.
“Your offer is generous, sir,” Bentley said to Kingsley, “but I must meet with a friend. May I visit on the morrow?”
“Our gates will always be open to you,” Kingsley said.
Bentley bowed and turned to exit the gate with Silverwood. Kingsley and Avarick left, but Eirwyn came to Bentley and caught his hand. He turned, and she looked up into his eyes.
For a long moment, they spoke nothing with their lips, but the silence between them was not empty. The gaze of their eyes spoke a dozen whispers and promised future hopes. He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek, then brushed away a tousle of her dark hair.
“How ever did I let the peculiar Maiden of Mercy so capture my heart?”
She smiled. “How did I have the great fortune to be rescued by a knight both daring and kind?”
Bentley became serious. “Eirwyn, I am concerned about leaving you here. Do you trust Avarick?”
“I don't like him, but I don't believe he would do anything to harm me, if that is what you are asking. Why?”
Bentley shook his head. “I'm not sure, but I guess this castle is the safest place there is for you. Just promise me you won't leave the walls, all right? Not even for missions of mercy.”
Eirwyn took a deep breath. “I promise… for now.”
Bentley nodded and then mounted Silverwood.
“Perhaps I'll see you tomorrow?”
Eirwyn smiled in that way that made him wish he weren't leaving. He bowed his head and rode away with his heart full of hope.
But as Holbrook Castle fell behind him, Bentley had the strangest notion that something was amiss. He rode to the top of a grassy knoll and looked all about the land. Perhaps it was the feeling of leaving behind someone he loved so deeply for the first time.
Whatever the feeling was, he didn't like it. He hoped a night's rest and a morning's sunrise would settle his heart.
GUISE REVEALED
Bentley made quick stops to see Creighton and Walsch and to check on little Anya. Walsch took him to the home of Luanne, his fiancée, where Anya was being cared for. They seemed only mildly surprised to see him in armor and on a horse.
“Bentley!” Anya yelled and came running to him when they arrived. “You are a knight!”
Bentley dismounted, knelt down, and scooped the little girl up into the air. “Hello, my fair princess!” he said. She hugged his neck and kissed his cheek, and her exuberance warmed his heart. “Where have you been?” she asked. “I've missed you so!”
“Well,” he said as if he were thinking hard. “I've been where all knights go—on a grand adventure to save the fair maiden from a dreaded dragon.” He winked at her, and she giggled.
“Will you tell me the story?” Her big eyes pleaded with him, and he could hardly bear to tell her no—but he had to be on his way.
“There's coming a day soon, princess, when I will tell you a story every night. All right?”
She looked disappointed, but only for a moment. “All right.”
Bentley thanked Luanne and her parents for caring for Anya and quietly made a promise to return for her soon. Oddly enough, they seemed disappointed, for though she was another mouth to feed and they had hardly a bean to spare, her joyful and grateful little heart had lifted the oppression of Holbrook a measure.
Bentley prepared to leave but pulled Walsch away to speak quietly with him for a moment. They walked toward the large tree where Silver-wood was grazing.
“Walsch, keep a watchful eye, will you?”
Walsch squinted one eye and looked at Bentley in his usual quirky way. “What ye be up to, Ben o’ the south?”
“I'm not sure.” Bentley looked toward Luanne's family near the cottage as he stroked Silverwood's muscular neck. “Let's just say that the Ashen Knight may be looking for revenge. Just be ready to get to the castle when the warning comes.”
Walsch looked concerned. “Then I think I'll stay with Luanne's family t'night. Her father's let me sleep on the porch once before.”
Luanne came to stand close to Walsch. She leaned up against his large frame as he put an arm around her. She smiled up at him and then at Bentley. It was a beautiful evening, and the ground only now began to radiate the warmth of the sun it had captured earlier in the day.
“It's quite late, Bentley,” she said. “Why don't you stay with us too?”
“You'll not get far before dark, Ben,” Walsch added. “The sun's down, and the light's nearly gone. Why don't ye rest here and ride in the mornin’?”
“Thank you, but I'd best—”
“Please, Bentley,” Anya pleaded. She had quietly made her way up behind Walsch and was now peering out from behind him and Luanne. She limped to stand next to Bentley and put her little hand in his. He looked down at her, which he realized was a mistake, for her large, brown eyes pleaded more earnestly than even her squeaky voice. Long lashes blinked at him, and her hopeful smile was too much to refuse. Besides, he realized, if Demus had been successful, he and his knights would already be settled in an encampment. Bentley could ride at first light to let them know they were no longer needed.
He reached down and picked up Anya. “I suppose spending the night would be all right.”
Anya hugged his neck and giggled with delight.
“I'll see if we've room in the cabin.” Luanne turned to leave.
“No, Luanne. I'd prefer to sleep right here. The evening is beautiful, and I've got a bedroll in my saddlebag.”
“Can I stay with you?” Anya said. “I love sleeping outside.”
“Are you sure you won't be afraid of the night sounds?”
“Why should I be?” she asked matter-of-factly “I have a knight to protect me.”
Bentley laughed. “Well then, little princess, of course you can stay with me.”
Before long everyone was settled into their beds, and Anya was snuggled up next to Bentley outside. They gazed up at the billions of bright, twinkling stars, for the sky seemed full of them tonight.
“Can you tell me a story now?” Anya asked.
Bentley sighed. He felt the pull of the previous day's ordeal and the long journey tugging on his consciousness. Even speaking was becoming difficult as h
e let his body melt into the comfort of rest.
“How about you tell me a story tonight, Anya?”
She thought for a moment.
“There once was a brave knight who rode across the kingdom of Arrethtrae on a gallant steed, looking for a fair maiden…and a little girl…”
Bentley smiled, but each word his little narrator spoke pulled his eyelids lower, and her voice became distant and hollow until he heard no more…
Bentley was riding, and the day was warm. He had to meet Sir Demus soon, but first he had to ride through the forest to the falls. Silverwood carried him to the rocky shore, where Eirwyn stood illumined beneath the countless crystal clear droplets that fell from above.
So beautiful. His heart filled with joy. Each droplet sparkled in the morning sun, and she seemed to glow in its wash.
He raised his hand and shouted to her. She looked up and smiled at him in that same way that made him never want to leave her again. She waved back as if she were thrilled that he would soon be with her.
Bentley gripped Silverwood's reins tightly and prepared to close the distance between him and his love, but just then he saw something that brought chills to his spine. A large dark shadow rose up behind her in the watery curtain. Though the figure was distorted by the dancing light, there was no doubt in Bentley's mind what it was.
He shouted to warn her, but she could not hear him. She just continued to smile and wave back. Bentley saw the creature rise up on its hind haunches, the collar skin spread wide. This Yagormoth seemed twice as large as the one he had slain.
Bentley drew his sword and pressed Silverwood into a full gallop, but it was too late. The massive beast pounced from behind the falls, and he heard Eirwyn scream. Bentley's heart raced, and the world seemed to collapse around him.