The Knight Who Sought a Crone
Chapter Three

Fleeing the small village on foot, I hustled through the single path leading away towards a damp field of rice crops procured by several ladies wearing traditional peasant dresses of cotton and various colors. They paid me no attention as I continued to head northward, following the narrow road deep into a grove of forestry. I rested myself against a tall tree trunk and winced to the pain pulsing through my right arm. Blood had carried into my right hand, staining my smudged fingers with a red mud mixture. I would need to reach a healer soon, but I know of no other Knights in this vicinity. I was alone in a cold, damp forest. It would be hours before I could try to heal myself, but in that time, I may have to defend against predators; man and animal alike. My sword would be useless.

I looked over my left shoulder beyond the edge of the forest to see the village behind me as the cackles and bells of warning billowed over the street. The gangs controlled the village. I would be a wanted man. The local marshal would not heed my testimony, for I acted on impulse not with honor. I fucked up and the pain in my body was my punishment.

Snap. I heard the twigs in the distance. I reached for the hilt of my blade only to reel my hand back below my chest in the stinging pain. I’m dead out here.

“Strange man, is that you?” I heard her voice call to me like the sound of a harp played by a talented artist whose hands glistened over the strings in their own melody. The scent of her dark, blonde hair carried ahead of her as another crackle of the twigs revealed the red dress and white blouse of the lady at the tavern.

“How’d you make it this far?” I begged, “And where are the others?”

“I sent them further into the woods,” she cooed. Her green eyes refreshing to my own like the sight of a fresh stream.

“They’ll die on their own.”

“They’ll be fine. There is another village to the north where most of them were from, a lumberjack village.”

“How did they wind up here?”

“Better life or opportunities. We’re too far from Kora for most to make it and Sarat is many, many weeks by foot to the north. Most cannot afford a horse. The gangs promised them well, only to be misled.”

“And they couldn’t make it as lumberjacks?” I moaned to the pain in my arm as I seated with noticeable discomfort surging down my muscle. I could see in her crystal green eyes a hint of concern of my struggle as she lowered herself next to me.

“Limited marriage opportunities, I’m afraid. The king’s father outlawed polygamy.”

“Right, Rykanian politics,” I rested my head against the tree trunk as I could feel her silk hands guiding to the wound.

“You need to patch this wound soon.”

“Unless you’re a Temple Knight, I don’t see how you’re of any use. Unless this village has a healer, I’ll have to manage with it getting infected.”

“You happen to be in luck.” Her smile made me want to disgrace my chivalry. I watched her as she scoured the tree barks and the groves of plants and bushes, carefully selecting what she could from the forest. She returned a few moments later with some tiny green seeds plucked from bushes and a handful of creamy silk leaves dripping into her hands. She began by washing her hands in the leaves and tearing a piece of my cloak away from the wound. As she dug her hands into the wound, she pulled out tiny splinters as I winced to her touches only to feel a soothing sting of cold cover the wound. She followed by splitting open several of the bulb fruits and dripping them into the wound directly in the front and behind and taking care with the barks, she started a fire with nearby wood and collected the bark into the flame permitting them to char then proceeded to rub the char into the wound to seal it. Tying the fabric of my torn cloak around the wound, I felt the easing relief of cool singe coursing through my muscles.

I clenched my right fist, flexing my fingers and moving my arm up and down. Almost like new, sore from a good day of training and I could feel I could use it by tomorrow’s sunrise. I looked into her hypnotic eyes and asked her name.

“I asked you first, remember?”

“I suppose it’s only fair,” I smiled. “Tedarin Aeri.”

“Tedarin,” she offered her hand still moist from her ritual, “Rysa. Rysa Ferin.”

“Unusual name for a low-born.”

“Aeri is high-born, is it not?”

“Aye, Koran.”

“If you’re from Kora, what brings you up this far north?”

“A journey,” I whispered, gulping my parched throat.

“Journey? To where?”

“To wherever I am guided,” I looked to the sky through the leaf canopy so thick the leaves seem to become as one, “There’s still plenty of sunlight. I need to be going.” I turned to her seductive eyes. What a damsel. She’ll be raw meat out here alone. Not my problem.

“Going? Where?” Her voice sung like a bird.

“You wouldn’t understand,” I turned my face away from her, clenching my right fist to ease the pain. I started to rise under the strength of my right arm. Bad mistake. Groaning to the pain, I set myself back to sit down.

“Let me help you up.” She stood to stand, her shapely frame hid beneath the tattered dress which had seen its days. She jiggled her fingers to garner my attention to use her as leverage to stand. I hope she’s strong enough to support my weight. I took her offer and eased with my left hand to stand, much to my surprise, she didn’t strain.

“How did you know of these plants?”

“I come from a village north of Yumphen on the edges of the Saratian Wood.”

“You’re very far from home.”

“Aye, but my loins have done a lot of talking to get me this far.”

“Why south?”

“My village was sacked.” Green eyes flushed with tears, I touched a nerve, “My brothers and I fled but when we stopped in Telmen, they sold me off. No explanation. Just here, take this whore. They took off with the money and I’ve never seen them since. It was there in my home village where I learned from the forest about those plants.”

“The forest taught you?” My eyebrow lifted to inquiry. Now she really was crazy.

“Legends say the forest is home to a mystical lady. Where I’m from, they call her the Forest Witch.” I sensed an ebbing pain in my left wrist.

“Forest Witch? You don’t honestly believe in witches do you?”

“Just as much as you believe in the Magi.”

“You don’t believe in the Magi? Speakers to our gods?” Heathen, I thought.

“What’s to believe? The Magi cower in temples, never visible to us beneath them. While you Knights visit with them and protect them.”

She stood in my way, stopping my progression. She now became a threat with blasphemy. I grappled her silk skin arm beneath the sleeve of her blouse, rising my grimy fingers across her shoulder, “How did you know?” I growled with spittle to her twitchy cute nose.

“Your sword gives it away.”

“My sword? Where have you seen one?”

“Knights sacked my village.”

Now I grew impatient with her, but she could not die by my sword for it is not our way. She stumbled a few steps as I pressed her away, moving through the forest. I heard her follow with her unbelievable tale.

“Return to your village, Rysa. Where I go, I don’t need you.”

“But you’re not like those who came to my village.”

“No. Because they weren’t Knights.” I ignored her, keeping ahead of the girl.

“I saw their swords, and I saw the scars on their left hands.”

I paused. Horse shit.

“Anybody could have received a scar.”

“But not like yours. Theirs had a circle with a triangle pointing up. Their swords made that strange whistle I’ve heard from yours as well.”

Sinja’s Knights. Plavak’s rune. I turned to her as she approached, “What did they want?” I felt a sting burn through my left wrist.

“They came looking for apostates, our Forest Witch and those like her. But you’re not like them.” She reached her hand upon my left, entangling her fingers in my sleeve to push it up, revealing the rune scarred in my wrist. Her silk hands tingled like tiny pins. Her touch tickled through my spine. I pulled away.

“They were called by their Magi for a reason then. For which, I am not permitted to know.”

“They came and killed most of the women and the men they imprisoned.”

“Not my business, Rysa. I need to continue north.”

“Then let me go with you.”

“You’ll only hamper me. You’ll get in the way. Then what? I’m not responsible for you. I’ll get you as far as the capital. From there, you’re on your own.”

“Then we should return to the Saratian Route,” she pointed west.

“We can’t regain the main road. Not after my adventure in that village. The mountains are east. Sarat is north. Kora is south. We can make it by following the direction of the sun. It sets west. From there, we can regain north. I estimate we still have several more hours of daylight,” I clenched my right fist again, the sting diminishing, “If this potion works that you applied, we should be protected before sunrise.”

“Then you’ll take me with you?”

“Only until Sarat.”

“Agreed,” she motioned to shake her hand. I returned her offer.