The knights gathered the heroes, taking them away from the foul embrace that had united them in death with their executioners.
A tall pyre was erected and when the first star shone in the sky, the flames, roaring in the wind, united the bodies to the ancestor warriors who had preceded them. The captain and the knights paid their final respects to their lost brothers with tears in their eyes, and the sword of the devoted standard-bearer was stuck into the top of the green pile, erected in his memory in front of the flaming pyre.
The pleasant valley would have hosted new and different shadows under those of the ancient trees – looking like funereal figures – but not wicked ones. And if anyone would be staying there in the years to come, they would hear, amidst the rustling of leaves and branches, the distant stamping of untamed stallions and a song of brave men speaking of sacrifice and daring.
When the last flames of the pyre were extinguished, the captain turned his back on the mound and headed towards the unknown leader who had saved them from a frightful end. He was waiting with all his men, standing apart from the mournful rite, having just returned from the chase in which they had annihilated the last troops of the invading army.
“Now, my Lord,” said the captain of the knights, “allow me to know the origins of the goodman to whom we all owe our lives. The one who wishes to know is Sigismund of Castle Nubilous, known until a few moons ago as the Captain of the Knights of the Historiated Blades, so named since the most memorable ventures of our people are engraved on our swords. We are the eternal custodians of the traditions of the Realm of Time. As you can see for yourself, we no longer possess anything but our lives, reduced now to a few dozen lances. I give them to you. Accept them and dispose of them as you see fit, for any service a knight can render to you.”
“It is not your brave existences that I crave,” came the answer, “but only your friendship, in order to establish an alliance that will shake the power of the common enemy, eradicating it from the very land. But now come and sit at the table that has been prepared, where we can refresh ourselves and reveal our identities and intentions sheltered from the darkness of the night, and finally, tell the tales of our peoples' exploits.” Thus the two captains met and immediately an unbreakable bond was born between them, as it always happens when two great souls meet.
The leaders travelled along a narrow winding path through the woods that crowned and concealed the valley, and at the end of a short journey they emerged into a round clearing. In the center, a circular tent, capable of accommodating many men, had been erected. The commander who had arrived from the East entered quickly, but the captain of the knights paused briefly before entering, casting a melancholy glance at the starry sky, which alone had remained unchanged for over a year. Then he sighed, bowed his head, and proceeded.
The interior of the quarters was illuminated by hanging lanterns and furnished with a large, low table arranged in a semicircle at the opposite end from the entrance, while many sleeping pallets expanded around a lively central fire.
Sigismund followed the guest to the table and, after a polite gesture from the stranger who was about to take the middle seat, took the place on his right. Now that the flickering light illuminated his face, the knight could observe the features of the man that he could only guess before. His black hair spread over his shoulders, freeing itself from the gentle grip of a silver band that crowned his forehead. Many wrinkles crossed it despite his age, and Sigismund understood that his people were not the only ones gripped by suffering. The black wolf had also hit in the East, but perhaps its grip had been less ferocious, since there was no shadow of resignation to darken the nobility of that daring and fiery gaze, as if he was already contemplating the next challenge.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
“So, now that the darkness no longer oppresses us, allow me to introduce myself and forgive me for not revealing my identity to you outdoors, but for many days fear has been riding with us. Fear of an enemy we did not know and whose powers surpass ours so much that it makes us fear the darkness that until now has only surrounded us to give us the nighttime rest, while now it inflicts on us the ultimate rest. My name is Robuald, Captain of the East, once frozen only by the winter cold, but now...,” he did not finish the sentence, as there was no need. “Tell me, if you will, Sigismund, the history of your kingdom and, as you yourself have revealed to me, its painful end,” continued Robuald after a few moments of heartfelt silence.
“Oh, the history of my people is very long and the hours of this gloomy night would not be enough to narrate it, and I do not wish to evoke the ages of its majesty, as my grief is too much rekindled only thinking about it. I will tell you, for this time, that my people were skilled in the arts, proud and loyal, dedicated to the study of the things of the world and their protection against every danger. Enemy of the enemies of peace and justice, honesty and honor. We have taken up arms several times in the past eras and every time we have emerged victorious, even when we paid the highest sacrifice, but we have always found ourselves fighting only the wickedness embodied in men. In this case, however, it seems that it has emerged and assumed its own horrid form, infected by an appearance so terrifying as to weaken even the strongest soldiers at its mere manifestation: every bit of our knowledge, every bit of our work has been vain.” And he did not want to say more, imitated by his host who sadly agreed several times. The rest of the dinner proceeded in a heavy silence, interrupted only by the raising of cups in sacrifice to the fallen of the two armies.
Although the meal was consumed quickly and with the sole purpose of regaining some of the strength worn out during that endless day, the knights tasted hot dishes for the first time in a long time. None of them remembered the moment when they had refreshed themselves around a campfire, which they always avoided for fear of being discovered and attacked. The spices that accompanied those dishes and the aromas that announced them as appetizing were unknown to the knights, yet they did not seem different from their tastes, but only a few paid attention to this. When the last cup was emptied, the captains allowed the guests to retire, while they prepared to engage in the hard struggle against sleep, the ultimate duel before the new dawn, undertaken to avoid being caught unprepared by other, far deadlier encounters.
It was appropriate to agree on a common plan, but to do so, it was necessary to exchange all the information they had. Sigismund waited for the foreign leader to start, who, used to command, distinguished by a determined manner and blunt ways that betrayed greater familiarity with the halls of arms than with those of the court, began without preamble: “Currently, my force amounts to a few thousand men, but well-equipped with everything necessary, and skilled in handling weapons. When I left my city, we had twice that number, but the clashes have halved us. On the other hand, the entire territory that runs from this gorge to my meadows, beyond the mountains to the East, is clear and safe. In addition, I have left some men behind: soldiers capable of hiding among the woods and bushes like a wild rabbit. If danger should arise from behind, we would be warned well in advance. He who led the creatures we surprised today would have done well to follow similar prudence.” He smirked in satisfaction, but the laughter did not linger on his lips, and soon his eyebrows furrowed again: “However, what scares me is not behind us. Indeed, I did not think I would have to face such a formidable test. I judged the consistency of their armed forces considering only the horde that invaded us, but I realize just now, that my land has barely been skimmed by these damned ones, and the worst is yet to come.” He took a deep breath as a new wrinkle crossed his already deeply marked forehead, and then concluded, “Now it is your turn to speak, Sigismund, valiant Captain of the Knights of Historiated Blades, and tell me what happened and what awaits my people.”