The Sacrifice 

 

Part Thirteenth: Something Wrong

Sir Richard shaded his eyes from the setting sun. They were almost to the city. They would reach it before nightfall if they kept going.

“Come on, Jael, we’re almost there,” he said, running his fingers through his horse’s ivory mane. “I know you’re tired, but we shall have a real bed and a real stable tonight if we get there. Good girl!” he encouraged as the dappled gray mare moved to a faster gate. His German Shepherd, Cyrus, started running to keep up with the trotting horse. He knew both animals were tired from the long trek through the mountains, but they understood what it meant to stay in a city.

The trio reached the high stone wall, and walked in a crescent along it to the Gate on the West. “Who goes there?” a guard shouted from the top of the city wall.

“A wandering knight.” He had explained himself so many times that he was beginning to feel like a school boy rattling off a poem he has been made to memorize. “I am Sir Richard MacWilliams, a Knight of the Eagle.” He held up his scarlet shield, which was adorned by a golden eagle with out-stretched wings. The Knights of the Eagle were a group of knights who went by certain standards. Any knight of any respectable country could become a Knight of the Eagle, if he was willing to go through more training and second dangerous Quest. Sir Richard hadn’t become one to get himself instant passage into any city to spend the night, but they were trusted by most kings and his red and gold shield was a ticket into almost anywhere.

Including this city, even if it was nestled down in the middle of nowhere, with rugged mountains on all sides. The guard nodded, and stepped back from the wall. Sir Richard heard him calling orders to other unseen men. The Gates creaked open, and he urged Jael to enter.

A captain came out of the guardhouse, followed by a squire who held a torch. The sputtering flame illuminated the inner side of the wall, tinting the gray brinks a faint orange.

“What is your business here, Sir MacWilliams?” the captain asked, seriously but not sharply.

“Just spending the night and passing through,” the Knight explained. “I am going to Jerovack across the mountains.”

“How long have you been a Knight of the Eagle?”

“Going on ten years.”

“What city were you originally knighted in?”

“Haken.”

“Very good. Welcome to our city, though you come at a poor time—poor for us. You shall likely be glad to find you have our inn to yourself (unless the Shepherds have gone to stay there). There is one in the City, straight down that street.”

“Thank you,” Sir Richard said, gathering up the reins and encouraging Jael to walk. “What do you think that meant?” he muttered, as they moved out of range of hearing from the Wall, speaking more to his animals than anything else.

There certainly was something wrong: the whole city seemed deserted. But the captain at the Gate had not seemed angry or frightened, scarce as travelers must be in the middle of a mountain-range.

Sir Richard reined in his horse before the inn, and sat still, looking around at the brooding city in the fading light.

“Excuse me, sir?”

He turned to see a young boy standing near Jael’s head. “Are you going to stop here?”

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Perfect time to switch characters, right?

Yes, I do think all authors are this mean. 🙂

Anyway, to keep things clear, I’ll be including the map I drew at the end of all my story posts now:

Happy Friday!