They were in the middle of a large, muddied field of desolation, the location of a recent battle. From what little of the trampled crops she could make out beneath the layers of dirt and detritus, it must have once been one of the wheat fields Rapunzel had always wanted to see for herself.

Having been confined in a tower for such a large part of her life, safely sequestered away from all the ongoings of the world, Rapunzel had spent much of her time solely in the company of books, doing the Author’s holy work of reading them. Through them she had walked through the resplendent castles of Avalon, explored the dream dusted sands of faraway Irem and gotten lost in the many stories of the Honeyed King and his beastly court. And yet chiefly above all these, she had gotten entranced by the stories of Reveria, whose golden glint she could always see cresting over her own horizon visible from her tower, tantalizing her with its proximity. The land had once been called the fruit of the Empire, lush with green and rich with the limitless bounty of endless fields of wheat. She remembered reading about the uniquely sweet taste of their plum wines and she had seen illustrations of apples borne by its orchards that had been twice as large as a man’s first. To her, it had seemed a land of fantastical plenty.

And now it was dying, ravaged by the fire and smoke of war.

All around her, colors of vibrancy were shorn down to muted swatches of browns, grays and the dulled ochre color of long-dried blood. The blackened trees that now dotted the land’s broken vistas stuck out of the ground like skeletal fingers reaching skyward in feeble pleas for mercy that would never come. And everywhere were bloating corpses left to litter the land.

Earlier, Rapunzel had left Tomas behind by the carriage despite his protestations and had refused Caradoc’s offer to have his men escort her further into the dead-strewn field. As she had expected--and planned--Caradoc had then offered to escort her personally, citing concern for her safety in a region that was still plagued by the addons of war.

It had been the simplest way in getting the young knight alone.

It was late with the Lamp soon to dim, yet Rapunzel showed no sign of being bothered by the reek nor the swarm of insects buzzing about the body of a dead soldier, a rotting hole yawning wide in its chest. She was knelt on the wet ground beside it, her long lustrous hair coiled in tangled piles near her feet. Even when part of the soldier’s cheek sloughed away as her fingers reached to close what was left uneaten from his eyelids, she gave no visible sign of hesitation or disgust. Instead Rapunzel used her sanctified brush to methodically place a single thick dot of black paint on the dead man’s left eyelid.

The full stop to end his story.

The crows had already feasted out his right eye, so she painted the other three customary dots symbolizing the ellipses just beneath his empty eye socket instead.

For stories need not end with the hero’s death.

Rapunzel clasped the dead man’s hands in hers; hers were the color of rosy peaches, his the sickly off-pink color and consistency of rotting apricots. For a moment, she was tempted to take a bite but managed to restrain herself. Instead she raised her sonorous voice, made for hymns and odes in a sing-song tone, and recited a verse in elegiac prayer.

“Here he thus lay in epilogue kept, in promis’d last rest with no childe that wept. In gilded letters and inky-black blend, so ends his tale by Author’s wend. So it is writ.”

Behind her, she could hear Caradoc mumbling a repeat of her words. Rapunzel rose to her feet and turned to make her way back towards their camp, careful not to step on any of the other carcasses scattered across the field who had already received her exequies. Rapunzel’s long hair trailed behind her like a shimmering cloak, ringlets of shiny gold carving pathways through the mud behind her yet somehow picking up no blemish nor coming caught on any of the many twigs or stray stones that came across their way. Caradoc lingered by the body and made the sign of the Instrument before he caught up and fell in a quiet step by her side.

This had been the third clearing in a single candle where their group had encountered the dead left for the crows, none having been given the decency of rite nor burial.

There was a terse silence between the pair as they made their way back across the mired field towards the pumpkin carriage and Caradoc’s waiting men. The sudden cawing of a distant crow seemed to be all the excuse Rapunzel needed to pipe up, her voice cold.

“Soldiers should not be left like this to the mercy of the Lamp and winged things. It is shameful.”

“Yes it is, Your Penmanship.” Caradoc replied.

“Battles have been fought here recently, victoriously won by your king’s banners. Why has he not bothered burying all these men?”

“A lack of time, Your Penmanship. Once we have won there will be time to mourn.”

“Nonsense. Even the wind falls still at times. Your king Arthur could surely muster the effort to honor the brought dead by his hand. He just chooses not to.”

“My king Arthur possesses honor beyond compare. He will make right with the people of this land once all is done.”

Rapunzel swept her hand about her to indicate the state of ruination about them. “You know little of honor, sir Caradoc, if these works are what you measure it by.”.

Rapunzel noticed from the corner of her eye how Caradoc’s jaw set, clearly struggling to keep his tongue.

“You have come to burn the land and rape it from its riches.” Rapunzel continued brusquely. “I ask you: where is the honor in that?”

“We are not mere bandits, here for conquest or plunder.” Caradoc said through tightened teeth.

“All wars are fought for either or both, sir Caradoc.”

Caradoc shook his head, and replied in a polite but clipped manner, clearly becoming flustered. “We crusade for righteous reasons. The Author Himself writes of us.”

“Crusade?” Rapunzel scoffed and flicked a long length of hair over her shoulder. “The Author writes across the very surface of the Empire itself. All you will find in these lands are fellows of faith. You should call your so-called crusade what it is: an invasion to sate your king’s ambition.”

“The Empire has denied my king his diplomacy. Where the pen fails, the sword must write in its stead.”

Rapunzel rolled her eyes at the knight’s response, the latter merely staring in the distance ahead.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

The man thinks his king to be infallible. He will tell me nothing like this.

Rapunzel realized she had to change her approach, so she fell silent and decided to wait for the right moment. It came not soon after with the cawing of another crow, fluttering down from a nearby tree in search for more morsels. Caradoc’s eyes moved to follow the trace of the sudden sound at which Rapunzel stepped on her own hair and stumbled forward, threatening to fall into the mud.

“Your Penmanship!” Caradoc exclaimed. The knight instinctively reached towards Rapunzel, catching her by her shoulder and waist. Rapunzel’s hands both shot out behind her, clinging firmly onto the knight’s arms to keep her balance. Her hair seemed to roll at her feet and she took a half-step back against the knight, feigning an attempt at trying to regain her composure. Her breathing was heavy as she turned around, her face so close to the young knight’s that their noses almost touched tip to tip. She caught his worried gaze with hers and a candle-flick later the knight took a step back and away, snapping his hands off of Rapunzel as if she were scalding to the touch.

“Are you alright?” Caradoc asked, his cheeks reddening. He took another step back to keep a respectable arm’s distance.

“I,” Rapunzel began with a hitched breath, pressing a hand to still the theatrical rise and fall of her chest. “Yes, I think I am.” Rapunzel replied after a small pause. “Thank you, sir Caradoc. I seemed to have misstepped on a stray stone of sorts. That would have been quite the nasty fall.”

Rapunzel took a moment to adjust her bodice, straightening its ruffles and smoothing any creases.

“I have little else that would do well for travel wear,” Rapunzel continued. “I would have hated to continue the rest of my journey in little more than a chemise.”

“Quite alright, Your Penmanship.” Caradoc replied, his cheeks turning an even more furious shade.

Rapunzel made a show of looking about the field as if searching for more hidden dangers.

“We still have some distance to go, but now I have a fright that I may fall again.” she said in a practiced voice of ernesty, looking up in the direction of their little roadside camp.

Rapunzel then lifted a waiting arm out towards the knight. “Escort me, sir Caradoc. The Lamp is about to dim.”

Caradoc seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then took Rapunzel’s arm on his own. “If you wish it, Your Penmanship.”

“I do.” Rapunzel replied gratefully, coming to clasp both her arms around the knight’s. “But mind your pace. I am not as quick as you with all this hair.”

Now we can start anew.

They walked some rest of the distance in silence, Rapunzel purposefully slowing her step down.

When she began to hear the faint sounds of the conversation of men ahead of them, she spoke up again.

“We spoke of shame, earlier. Tell me. Does your king know shame?” she asked slowly. Caradoc did not reply immediately, his eyes tightened ahead of him. Rapunzel was about to repeat her question when the knight broke his silence.

“I imagine he does,” Caradoc replied cautiously.

“And yet the land itself shows evidence to the contrary.”

Caradoc shook his head. “It is regrettable, Your Penmanship, but such is the cost of war.”

“A cost, you say? One he aims not to pay himself, I assume.”

“The ilk of kings can not be judged by the standards of common men.”

Rapunzel cocked her head at the knight and raised an incredulous eyebrow. “You imply me to be common?”

Caradoc seemed to almost miss a skip in his haste to reply. “That is not what I meant.” he said hastily. “Forgive me.”

Rapunzel gave a derisive snort in response and suddenly quickened her pace as if to get away from the young knight. A candle-flick later Caradoc increased the length of his stride to keep up, still holding on to her arm.

As I thought. Still a boy, eager for approval.

“And what of you, sir Caradoc the Younger. Do *you* know shame?” Rapunzel asked pointedly once the knight had matched her pace again.

Caradoc cleared his throat, but it was difficult to hide the red of his earlobes.

“Yes. Yes, I know it well.”

“Good.”

“I think all men do.” Caradoc added hesitantly.

Rapunzel gave the most infinitesimal tilt of her head. “And yet I see no look of chastisement upon you, sir knight, at the sight of all this.” she said, gesturing at the horrid state of the land about them. “I would think your cheeks to be stained the brightest vermillion from lamplight to lampdim at the sight of all this, but I only spot a dash of red to them, courtesy of what I assume is my presence on your arm. These Pages were once ripe with beauty and shine, but your king’s war has left them crumpled and soon to tear. It is shameful.”

Rapunzel gave Caradoc a furtive sidelong look as she finished, trying to gauge his response. The young knight seemed properly admonished by her stern words, his gaze cast down towards his own greaves as they continued to trudge through the mud.

“I would think a knight of Camelot had more to say on the topic.” Rapunzel added after a candle-flick of silence.

“All war is, Your Penmanship.” the young knight replied in an earnest tone.

“What is?”

“Shameful.”

That caught her off guard, though she would have never admitted it.

“Is that truly what you believe, sir Caradoc?” Rapunzel asked, her tone as careful as her eyes searching his face. Caradoc nodded slowly and grimaced, as if the minute motion was somehow causing him agony.

“I do,” he said.

“And what says Caradoc the Elder on the matter?”

“That there is no greater good, Your Penmanship, than to lay down your life for your king.”

“And? Would you?”

“Without thought, Your Penmanship.”

“Spoken like a true knight.”

Like the first licks of a burgeoning candlelight, a prideful smile came to Caradoc’s lips. It took all of Rapunzel's restraint to stop a sneer forming in response.

A pair of sentries posted in the shadow of a burnt out tree greeted their approach from the field, then fell in behind them as they returned to the camp, a small selection of sleeping tents circling her pumpkin carriage. Up ahead, the sounds of talk and laughter, with the smell of roasting meats being a pleasant alternative to the corpse smells in their wake.

“We’ve arrived.” Rapunzel said, stickily undraping her fingers from around the young man’s arm She made a show of having them come away with some hesitation as she turned to approach her carriage.

“And not a flick too soon.” Caradoc mentioned, motioning towards the sky above them. The Lamp above them began to rapidly dim, the light it was shedding retreating and fading until day had turned into night. All of a sudden, the campfire some small throws away was the only source of light on the dark roadside.

Rapunzel began to pick up the coils of her hair, twisting them around her arms in coils of wonder. Tomas seemed to have heard her coming, opening up the pumpkin carriage door - from within came the familiar scents of perfumed linens and spices.

“Thank you for the escort, sir Caradoc.” Rapunzel said as Tomas helped her onto the steps, carrying the last length of her hair behind her. “Your men will keep watch?”

“As will I. I shall hold vigil over your carriage myself.”

“Author write you, sir Caradoc.”

“And also you, Your Penmanship.” the young knight replied, making again the sign of the Instrument - both hands in front of his chest, one above the other, with only the index fingers extended with one touching the base of the other’s palm to make the symbol of a singular line with his fingers. A pen - the Author’s Instrument.

In a world without crowns, he might have grown up to become a great man, Rapunzel thought to herself as she moved to close the wagon door behind her. Caradoc was staring at her as she entered, eyes transfixed. She gave him the hint of a parting smile before lowering the curtains, one whose memory would doubtlessly prove him good company in the night to come.

Only once she was back inside did Rapunzel allow herself to exhale a long breath, one she hadn’t even realized she was holding.

A pity.