by Tracy Higley
~Part V~
And so the journey continued, and would continue, and while there were more battles, there were also more joys, and though she sometimes grew fearful, she also grew stronger, and there was a joy in this journey that she had not understood when they first set out.
She had learned so many lessons already, and looked forward to more. She had learned that she was fully loved and accepted, unconditionally, and did not need to strive to earn the love of her king or of others. She had learned that she was a critical part of this journey and of the kingdom, that she had been given special giftings to use for the good of others, and as much as she received from the knight, this she could pass on to others for their good.
Yes, there was great joy in this journey, and more joy to come, she believed, when finally they would reach the kingdom. Her friend and partner traveled daily at her side, and their friendship grew deeper and sweeter until she could not imagine having to travel the path alone, and she was ever grateful to the knight for pairing them thus.
And then one morning, when she rose and readied herself for the journey and mounted her horse and prepared to ride, her partner did not find her. She had not seen him yet that morning, she realized, and she lifted her head in some fear toward the horizon, wondering if he had started for some battle she had not yet seen. But the sky ahead was calm and blue and her fellow travelers prepared for the day as they always did, and nothing seemed amiss except that her partner was missing.
She searched for and found the knight. His back was to her as she approached, and he was giving instructions for the day to another traveler. She waited, heart beating with an unknown fear, a sense that something was wrong, terribly wrong, but she knew not what.
And then he turned to her, the knight, and she saw such sorrow in his eyes, such compassion, that she knew at once.
She could not speak.
“He is gone,” the knight said softly.
Her lip trembled and she studied her hands.
The knight took them in his own and she realized how cold she had grown.
“How long until he returns?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“He will not.”
Her tears fell now, heavy and hot on their joined hands. “Will I see him again?”
The knight clasped her to his chest now, and held her fast. “Oh, yes, my child. Oh, yes. He has only gone on ahead to the kingdom. He waits for you there.”
“I do not understand.”
“I know.”
She waited, her tears melting into his shoulder, waited for him to explain. But he did not.
“Why?” she finally asked. “Why was he taken from me?”
“You must stay close to me as we continue on the journey,” he said.
She made a fist and pushed it against his chest. “That is not an answer! Why was he taken from me?”
“You must stay close to me as we continue,” he said again. And she knew it was the only answer she would receive, at least for now.
And though the loss was crushing and she knew not how to continue without him, without his help and his encouragement and his friendship, it was soon time to mount up and move on. She sat astride her horse as though under a spell, and as they moved forward she felt as though the iciness of her hands had spread to numb every part of her, and she thought that never again would she be able to love, able to serve, and a hopelessness like that of the dungeon began to overtake her.