by N.D. Bailey
Upon completion of their baths, the riders were given fine clothing to wear as well as a set of new clothing suitable for their travels. Nadora was given a beautiful dress suitable for a princess and another set of clothes suited for a warrior. The riders were amazed when she walked in wearing the elegant dress. Most had never seen her dressed like a lady until now. Their mouths hung agape at her exquisite beauty. Now, Nuvatian knew he was in love.
Entering the large banquet hall, the riders observed the artistic detail given to the room. The walls were decorated with mosaic art, celebrating the peace of the kingdom, the harvesting of crops and enchanting beauty of Shy Kadesh.
Hand-carved rock sconces holding precious jewels captured the natural light; the precious stones magically danced on the ceiling like the lights of the aurora.
Gilgore thought he had died and gone to heaven when a large chair was brought in that actually fit his bulky body. Servants dressed in fine apparel waited on them, seemingly happy to do so. In fact, it struck Nadora as odd. She had noticed numerous servants buzzing around, happily waiting on them and the king. She only wished that their servants were this willing.
Navi sat next to Akiylah, who had joined them. An impressive array of food was spread across the elongated table. The smell alone wetted the appetite of the hungry riders; they were starving. After giving thanks they were not shy, but grabbed at the food, anxious to fill their bellies. Windsor, however, ate very little, picking at his food more than anything. Akiylah often looked up at him with eyes of sympathy. He was quiet and his renowned strength seemed to have left him.
Buldar leaned over to Binko. “Thank God, you smell bettah, mate,” he said.
“Yeah, well, it’s gonna take a while for that hair to grow back, mate.” They both laughed.
There was small talk, storytelling, and reminiscing around the table. The riders expressed their appreciation for the king’s generosity and their new clothes. They were amazed at the king’s ability to know what each rider liked and his estimation of their sizes.
After supper, King Justiz led the riders into a spacious room, where they sat at a large octagonal table of crafted stone, animals of all sorts chiseled into the tabletop. The table’s edges were inlaid with gems.
“I know why you have come,” the king began. “The Sword of Darvan has been found and you have come to ask me to ride.” Standing up and walking around the table, he continued. “Since Darvan has had power, the plight of humanity has been a tragic one filled with violence and pain.” He laid his hand upon Sagran and Amase. Then, he began again, “suffering and oppression,” touching others as he passed, “…hatred, sickness and death.” He placed his hand on Vandorf and Ozni. Vandorf didn’t even look up. “I know that I am the only one who can completely and permanently defeat Darvan. Even so, however, now is not the time for me to make my move. You must ride on for now. I—I will catch up with you at a later time.”
Silence fell upon the room. Shocked by his remark, a bombardment of thoughts went through the riders’ minds: Our trip up here was in vain. Our defeat is sealed. How dare he! Coward. Has betrayed us all. He doesn’t even care.
Now, Vandorf looked at him, but only for a moment. Then, he put his head back down and didn’t say a word or even look up again.
Rapidly trying to process what King Justiz had just spoken, Nadora broke the silence, speaking out of her frustration, “What?” she cried out. “What do you mean you’re not going to ride with us? We have risked our lives to ride up here to inform you. My fathah has the sword in his possession in Shalahem.”
“I don’t need informing,” King Justiz replied curtly. “I am much aware of what is going on politically.”
“But we have ridden this fah,” protested Nimri.
“You coward. You don’t know how to be a king. You sit up here in your little fairy-tale land playing royalty,” Cozbi accused. “You are weak!”
In the midst of all these expressions of outcry and anger, Windsor pushed his chair back, stood up and stretched out his arms. “It is as you say, King Justiz. Please excuse our expressions of momentary frustrations brought on by our fatigue. We trust that you have our best interest in mind.” His words stilled the room. “Thank you for receiving us and for your generous hospitality,” he added.
“You are most welcome,” King Justiz said. “I hope you enjoy a season of rest in my land.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” answered Windsor.
“Best interest,” Cozbi burst out. Then he proceeded to chide the king. “You should have done somethin’ about this yeahs ago.”
“Cozbi,” Windsor said, shocked by his outburst.
“He doesn’t have our best interest in mind,” Cozbi said standing to his feet. “If he did he would take that sword and put an end to this. Just because he’s immortal doesn’t make him bettah.”
Windsor interrupted, rebuking Cozbi for his disrespect.
Gilmanza now stood up and rebuked the knight who spoke so disdainfully. “Sit down,” he commanded. “I will not have a knight under my command speak with such disrespect.”
Angry, Cozbi stormed out of the room.
Eyeing Amase, King Justiz said, “I trust that the sword will be in good hands.” Navi alone had understanding into the words of the king.
As the riders left the table, their discouragement mingled with a growing anger. Some felt King Justiz was simply abandoning them. To them, it appeared that King Justiz just wasn’t interested in things outside of his celestial-like kingdom.
Fuming with anger, Windsor and Gilmanza caught up to Cozbi. “That is no way to speak to a king—an immortal king at that!” Windsor spoke with reproof.
Gilmanza bore down harder. “You know nothing of knighthood—of honor, nobility, and respect. And I will not have a knight undah my command behave in such a mannah as this.”
“King or no king, shouldn’t I have the right to speak my mind?” argued Cozbi.
“You do not have the right to be disrespectful,” Gilmanza countered. “There are many things that you do not undahstand about the Immortals.”
“Just because they are immortal doesn’t give them the right to neglect their responsibility,” Cozbi snapped. “We should have brought him the bloody sword and let him deal with it; then, it would be his to deal with, whether he likes it or not.”
“You speak foolishly,” Windsor said, sternly.
“Foolish? I speak with truth and zeal.” Cozbi was not willing to let this drop without a fight. “Anyone can see that he is avoiding his responsibility, and that he doesn’t care about the rest of the wohld. He’s not suffering. He’s not hungry. He’s not sick or dying. As long as he sits here in his celestial kingdom, untouched by the things the rest of us are touched by, he will never care.” Cozbi was giving Windsor an earful.
“Windsor is right, you speak the words of a fool,” Gilmanza said. “He has fought alongside us in numerous battles, even those when no one else would fight with us. You’ve heard of these, the ones where we were outnumbered, and victory looked impossible. Have you not listened to the words of our forefathers of the mighty acts the Immortals have done in our behalf? With their help, we have been victorious.
“It’s fairy-tales, stories embellished throughout the years,” Cozbi said. “Sure, he fought in battles long ago, but how long has it been? What mattahs anyway isn’t what he did then; it’s what he’s doing now.”
“You don’t know anything. He has rushed to our side in battle,” he continued, his anger growing. “He has delivered us and at times has fed our poor. He has done more than you will eva know; but then again, you’re too proud to evah take my word for it!”
They parted ways, the issue far from being resolved.
“He’ll learn,” Ozni said laughing, as he came up alongside Windsor and Gilmanza patting him on the shoulder, having overheard the tail end of their heated words.
“He’ll learn alright when
we get back and I strip him of his rank in knighthood,” Gilmanza said, matter of fact.
Emotions ran high. Some felt abandoned, others forgotten; some wrestled with their demons, others, regrets of long ago.
Love Hurts
With the full moon shimmering in his countenance, Windsor sat outside alone by the soothing waters of a fountain. The reflections of the waters showed his age, his gray beard, silver hair, and wrinkled face. He sat silently, in deep thought and inner reflection. His face appeared sad and lonely as though he were remembering days gone by. From among the immaculate gardens, Akiylah quietly entered the courtyard and gazed at him from a distance. Windsor was unaware of her presence.
Walking softly up to the fountain, she approached the wizard from behind.
“Like a unique and treasured pearl, discovered after having been lost at sea, are you to me.” Akiylah spoke softly as she placed her hand on his shoulder.
Standing and facing her, he put his hand on her moonlit cheek. “My dear, dear Akiylah. Your beauty is nevah fadin’, just like that pearl that you speak of. But me, I am as far gone and as unattractive as the oysta that bore it.”
“You were my heart’s attraction, Windsor, and my heart has no place for another. I told you then that it mattered not to me that you lost your immortal state. And now, it still doesn’t matter. My heart still beats for you. I still see you as the young, vibrant, and handsome man you were then. This skin is not what I fell in love with. It is the man within the skin that I fell in love with, and that love has not changed.” She spoke in a slow, purposeful and tender voice, touching the side of his face, her ring capturing the rays of the moonlight.
Windsor was not willing to let this lie. “I love you too much,” he said, “for you to spend your time with an old geezah—one who will grow old, even oldah than I am now and, eventually, will die. It is not fair to you. My days are now numbahed, the past is now gone, the present is quickly becoming my history, and the grave is my very near future.” He ran his hand through his long silver hair.
He looked into her eyes and admired her beauty. “You will always be my love—my only love. But you, you have an etehnity of opportunities to fall in love with someone who has not lost his immortal state—someone who will nevah grow old and die.”
“Eternities upon eternities could never find one for me as you, Windsor.” She leaned in to brush his cheek. “I anticipate the day that Darvan is destroyed, when the old will become young again and the dead will be alive again— and I and you can be together, forever and ever.”
“Oh how much I have dreamed of that myself, Akiylah! But as I have looked at my reflection and witnessed my friends gone by way of the grave, I have feared that I too would die and thousands of years would pass by before Dahvan would be destroyed. Then one day, I would be made alive again—young again—and finally we could be togethah for etehnity.” He paused, looking off towards the moon. “But I always feahed that then I would discovah that you had found anothah love—a true love for all etehnity.”
“As long as it takes, I will wait.” Akiylah gripped his hand. “I have waited this long on you, you stubborn fool!”
Windsor was still not accepting this. “Akiylah, look at me!” his voice rose in agitation. “How can you still feel that way? Just look at me. I’m— well, I’m old! Ancient, almost!” Wasted years, he thought. Just wasted years. Years without love.
She took his head in her hands, turning it to hers. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulder grazing his body. “That is not you, Windsor.” she gazed into his dark tearful eyes. “The skin that you are trapped within is not the man I fell in love with. The man I fell in love with is in here.” She patted his chest, and felt his heartbeat. “This is the man I fell in love with. And that will never change!” She took his hand into hers.
“You’re still wearin’ the ring I made you.”
“I’ve never taken it off.”
As they held hands, the moon lit both of their rings, casting soft light upon the matching pair.
“I told you I would never leave, even if you grew old,” said Akiylah. “Why couldn’t you believe me?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess I thought it would be easiah to nevha really have you, than to have you and then lose you to anothah.”
“Even though you freeded me, there has never been another. Just because you lost your immortality should not change our love. We cannot change our hearts, Windsor.”
Old fool. I am nothing but an old fool, Windsor thought to himself.