Chapter 16: The Knight’s Burden

  Aeron tightened his grip on the hilt, staring intently at Richard Tuckerham.

  "Holding a sword is much like controlling a horse, Aeron," Richard smiled, circling the young knight. "Too loose, and the enemy will disarm you with ease. Too tight, and your muscles will stiffen. Remember the three principles I taught you? They are worthless if you cannot master the basic grip."

  "How did you find me?" Aeron asked cautiously. "And why did the crown issue a bounty for one of its own knights?"

  Richard shook his head. "There was no bounty for you. It was for a man who shared your name and likeness—a man rumored to be planning the abduction of the princess from her wedding procession. As long as you have not committed such a foolish act, you remain a member of the Royal Knights of Shiratius."

  "What are you saying?" Aeron asked, stunned.

  "The princess has already reached Tar’Muffin, Aeron," Richard said firmly. "Give it up. I must ask you again: how do you intend to protect her? Yes, I was the one who arranged those false bounties at every gate you were likely to pass. And I was the one who ordered them removed the moment I heard she had crossed the border."

  "You... you did all that to stop me?" Aeron roared in anger.

  "No!" Richard barked back. "I did it to save you! I wanted to show you the reality of the life you would face—fugitives, hunted and hiding. You claim to love her, but have you ever truly thought about how you would keep her safe?"

  Suddenly, Richard drew his own blade. "I have waited here for nearly two weeks. It is pathetic that a few false posters slowed you down this much. If you struggle with such a minor obstacle, where do you find the confidence to protect a princess? Come, Aeron! Show me what you have learned in two months. Prove to me that your skill has finally caught up to your recklessness!"

  "I don't want to fight you," Aeron lowered his sword, turning toward Hagoth’s group. "And I will still rescue Chiryl, regardless of the life you've tried to force upon me."

  Richard didn't listen. He lunged at Aeron with a full-strength strike.

  Clang! Aeron flicked his wrist, raising his blade just in time to lock the attack.

  Ifindo’s eyes widened. He gripped his axe, ready to charge Richard, but Hagoth quickly held him back. "This is something they must settle between themselves," the merchant whispered.

  Crash! A sudden kick from Richard sent Aeron tumbling into a rack of forged goods. Weapons and farm tools clattered to the ground. Instead of exploding in rage, Aeron stood up slowly, calmly pointing his sword back at Richard.

  "That fall was to repay you for teaching me," Aeron said quietly.

  Richard was surprised. The hot-headed youth was gone, replaced by a man who was calm and calculating. He began to wonder if his attempt to force Aeron’s path was still justified.

  "I won't make any bets," Aeron continued. "Win or lose, I am going for Chiryl. I may not have the strength to protect her yet, but if I continue to train, I will reach my goal. And I know..." he glanced back at his three companions, "...that I am not alone on this path."

  "Then as the Commander of the Guard, I must take you by force," Richard sighed. "I cannot let you jeopardize the throne."

  "If that is what we must do," Aeron replied, "then you are facing a knight now."

  Richard smirked. He lunged forward as the first drops of rain began to fall. A ruthless sweep of his blade forced Aeron back several steps.

  Aeron planted a foot on a cooling basin, using the momentum to flip over Richard’s head, regaining the advantage.

  Clang! Clang! Clang! The two engaged in a flurry of shifting strikes, moving together like an ancient dance. The sheer force of their aura made Ifindo tremble; he realized that had Hagoth not stopped him, Richard’s blade would have made short work of him.

  Aeron was a natural. Without a master to guide him daily, his growth had come from his changing perspective on life. His strikes were becoming more refined, though a few awkward shadows remained—remnants of a self-taught style.

  The heavy rain turned the earth into a muddy slurry, then gradually tapered off, leaving a clear blue sky.

  More than three hundred passes had occurred. A crowd of villagers and patrolling soldiers had gathered, unable to look away from the masterful display. Aeron had the advantage of raw power from the Sign, but Richard’s decades of combat experience kept him standing until the sun reached its zenith.

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  Thud! The duel ended with Aeron’s boot connecting squarely with Richard’s chest, just after Richard’s blade had grazed Aeron’s cheek.

  Aeron wiped the blood from his face, but his eyes widened when he saw Richard clutching his abdomen, dark blood seeping through his armor.

  "You were already wounded? Why did you fight me?"

  "A loss is a loss," Richard shook his head with a weak laugh. "There are no excuses. You have won, Knight Aeron Teh’Bvera."

  "Will you... let me go to Chiryl?" Aeron asked tentatively.

  "Do I look like I could stop you?" Richard replied. "But..."

  "But what?" Aeron groaned. "Why do I always feel like something is wrong when you say that?"

  Richard sat back against a wall with Aeron’s help. "Do you see these people?" he asked, gesturing to the murmuring crowd.

  Aeron looked. He saw weary faces, but eyes that held a fierce hope for freedom. Children hid behind their fathers' legs, stealing smiles at him.

  "I was wounded two days ago," Richard said, his voice low so the crowd wouldn't hear. "I fell into a pirate trap. I thought they were just raiders, but they have come in numbers I never imagined."

  "How many?" Aeron asked, his heart sinking.

  "Eight to ten thousand," Richard whispered.

  Aeron turned pale.

  "That isn't all," Richard continued. "My scouts report that two hundred and fifty Imperial warships have appeared in the Great Canal."

  "You don't mean... the Empire is joining them?"

  "They are moving, Aeron. Even with the political marriage, Lorencine is still a target. Those ships carry at least twelve thousand 'pirates'—Imperial soldiers in disguise."

  "How many men do we have left in the Red Duke, Richard?"

  "The City Lord took two thousand troops to the capital last month to guard the King against a noble uprising," Richard explained. "Including the civilians, there are fewer than five thousand people here. Our regular army is only fifteen hundred."

  Aeron was speechless. Fifteen hundred against twenty thousand. Even the strongest walls would eventually crumble.

  "When will they arrive?"

  "At the latest, dawn the day after tomorrow," Richard answered. "If you leave now, everyone here will die. The Red Duke will be bathed in blood again—the blood of our people."

  Aeron saw Richard’s intent. He stood up, shaking his head. "Even if I stay, it won't change anything. I don't have the power to stop an army. A siege could last months. By then, Chiryl will be in Mantorias."

  "But we can try!" Richard insisted. "Will you leave for one girl and abandon these people to their deaths?"

  "I am not that powerful, Richard!" Aeron shouted.

  "But you have this..." Richard reached into his armor and pulled out a silk-wrapped bundle. Even through the cloth, the scent it emitted triggered a terrifying memory in Aeron.

  "The Holy Sword, Tonga!" Aeron gasped.

  Richard nodded gravely.

  "No, I won't use it," Aeron recoiled. "I won't bathe in blood with that assassin's weapon again."

  "You don't need to wield it in battle, Aeron," Richard said. "Your body cannot handle Tonga's power; it would fail after a few strikes. To kill a few hundred pirates only to lose a Signer is a foolish trade. We need you to be a symbol—a shield for our morale and a terror for the enemy."

  Richard unwrapped the silk and tossed the short blade to Aeron. As Aeron caught it, a surge of warm energy washed over him, instantly soothing the cut on his cheek.

  "Beyond killing, the Holy Sword has incredible healing properties," Richard said. He tried to laugh, but a fit of coughing brought up more blood.

  Aeron looked at Ivyl. The young sorceress stepped forward, sprinkling spell powder over Richard. Her staff glowed with a soft green light, and the wound on Richard’s abdomen began to knit together.

  Richard looked at Ivyl in awe. "It seems you’ve gathered some powerful allies," he said to Aeron. "They say a Signer is born to be a leader for a reason."

  "I don't want to lead anyone," Aeron said coldly. "I want to save Chiryl. If you're healed, I'm leaving."

  Richard sighed. "I cannot force you. But if you leave, take the Holy Sword. I won't let it fall into the Empire’s hands when the city falls."

  Aeron tucked the blade into his tunic. "If you can't defend the walls, take the people and flee," he said, turning away.

  "This is the border," Richard’s voice was hollow. "The people can flee to Tar’Muffin, but we—the soldiers of Shiratius—will die on our own soil."

  Aeron didn't look back, but the weight in his chest was unbearable.

  "If you've decided to rescue the princess," Hagoth whispered, "we should leave now. The longer we stay, the more burdens they will pile on you."

  Aeron nodded and signaled Ifindo to move. But just as they reached the edge of the camp, Richard called out one last time.

  "Take the civilians with you, Aeron! Protect them at least to the Tar’Muffin border. Fulfill your duty as a knight!"

  "I knew it..." Hagoth sighed. "Refuse him now, Aeron, while we still can!"

  But Aeron’s face had changed. The oath he had taken was finally demanding its due.

  "Tell them to pack their things," Aeron said, his voice steady. "We leave at dawn."

  The crowd erupted into whispers. They still didn't realize their ancestral home was about to be trampled by the coming tide of shadows.