The Knight Behind the Pillar (43 page)

             
He indicated a direction behind me. 

             
“Then take this.” I said deciding on the spot to present him with Kay’s extra shield.

             
He looked uncertain of my offer, but it would be more use to him than me as it was unlikely now I was going to find Kay to help him.  It was better than a piece of wood that Safir had before and as I was going to get out of the way and back to the fort it just made sense.  Should Kay get annoyed that I had given away his things I would deal with that later. 

             
“My thanks again, but I take it as a loan, now go will you.” Safir insisted adding with a smile, “Oh and next time try that sword in your hand, not that shouting wasn’t as effective, but it might not work a second time.  Good luck my friend.”

             
During this time the smoke had gotten thick again and with a few steps he was gone within it.  I stared down at the sword.  He was right I had forgotten it was even in my hand.  Needed to focus I told myself, remember my training as this was it, the real thing.  I had never thought I would be trembling inside so much, panic kept distracting my mind and I needed to think clearly.  

             
Sounds of battle threatened fiercely and then faded continuously around me.  Hidden, but not dulled by the smoke.  Turning around to leave I was all at once aware of where I had found myself, having avoided such thought and fear while I helped Safir.  It felt now far more urgent to leave and I headed back, but only to walk into heavier smoke and was forced to almost feel my steps carefully. 

             
I was conscious of movement around me and hoped I would leave the nightmare before seeing more than I had already.  In these moments everything was suppose to be slow, you got time to think, to plan and allow you to gain calmness needed.  Instead it was madness and your nerves on edge.  I realised how useless man was for fighting, two eyes at the front were not enough and both looked in the same direction!  What was the point of that!  I needed to see the threats around me and never before had it dawned on me just how blind I was to my back, the sides and with a helmet my vision was restricted more so. 

             
Vulnerable and alone now.  I knew the second feeling, but the first was new.  If I had no armour and if the sword in my hand was just a wooden stick I would have felt the same.  I cursed the smoke.  Heartbeat was uncontrolled and my senses were all desperate to be better aware of my surroundings, to be alerted to any threat first and not disabled by the smoke.  I hoped I was leaving it all behind as I staggered onwards.  The noise of the battle, the yelling and screams and much worst were not the sounds I wanted to hear more of, but as my view was hindered by the haze my hearing worked harder. 

             
Then a man charged forward from the mist, my fears were answered.  His distance was hard to judge when you are trying to watch everything at once.  Then it happened and I looked; it was as if I had never seen before!  I saw his legs, his hands with the small axe he held and I simply stepped aside as my training commanded me to, sword ready.  The timing was right and he was over stretched and had no chance to stop himself in time.  Had I held out a baton, one from training, he would have been bruised.  He might have been cursing he had misjudged the attack and had he been a fellow trainee we might have been laughing afterwards.  I had once, long ago.  Once I was that person, the one with the bruise and with the bruised ego to match and had laughed away the pain, cursed the points I had loss, brush off the dirt and started again. 

             
I looked back along the sword I had held and angled as taught, blood trickled along its length and there was a thud as he collapsed to the ground.  There was no laughter.  Then I did something my training never prepared me for, I looked beyond the sword edge to see more.  He was no man, something I had failed to see at first.  No not a man, he was close if not younger to my age and at this moment I was no man either.  I stared in disbelief at the boy holding his side, pain ripping him apart and yelling words I could not hear against the renewed roar of battle around us.  A face of terror I glimpsed before he had no strength left to hold up his head, his upper body slumped and the ground claimed him.

             
“Oh god!” I cried out in horror at my actions before my chest tightened in shock and no more sound came.

             
My head spun, a sea of regret and panic drowned me and my soul felt like it had just been wrenched out.  And yet something told me to move, something in the madness called my name and I obeyed.  Shaking my sword found another, the boy was not alone and training took control once again.  Whoever this next man was he continued running from something and all I did was knock him aside and he kept going.  I drove forward a few steps to gain better ground and a steady foothold, pushing another man to the side who then fell away.  It was all too fast and I didn’t get to see any faces.  The battlefield was a burr of sound, metal and anger, my anger!  I did not even see if they were on my side.  I just fought on and forgot to wonder how I had got my direction so wrong and seemingly reached the heart of the battle. 

             
Inside I was crying.  Pure hate, rage, never had I felt this way before.  I yelled the question, why me, who forced me to take a life!  Yet I was screaming at the dark, alone in a void and falling while on the outside my sword followed my thoughtless commands.

             
Then I heard a real sound, my voice a sound of agony as something caught me across the head.  The clasp broke and my helmet was wrenched away and lost.  My hair soaked already in sweat meant I felt the cold air hit me at once.  I could also tell I was bleeding from the gash as the deadly warmth journeyed down the side of my neck. 

             
I had dropped to one knee, but swept back with my sword at once to catch my attacker before they continued with a second strike.  There was no one there, I was just in the way of another fight and they were defending against others in the smoke.  Or they simply realised I was on their side and there was no time to waste in saying sorry.

             
More men had charged across my path unconcerned with me and I paused, forcing myself to stop and attempt to take it all in.  Just to breathe and look, regain a sense of direction somehow, but all it allowed for was my witnessing the worst of man. 

             
The battle went on around me and as the smoke fog lifted again for seconds I could finally make out the burning town, it was west of me I decided.  It was also now an island to a sea of bodies and death.  In this moment I hated everything I was, anything there was to love was black and I stood a new person, my old life gone, all hope gone.  My entire being lost with the boy’s blood that dripped into the ground from my sword, and I filled with fury that this was what I wanted!  I wanted to be a knight, a respected bearer of justice, truth and honour and to fight!  And I was wrong, this was not what I wanted and the words remained unspoken on my cut and bloodied lips.

             
A cry to rally forward sounded, just heard above the noise of killing, murder and despair.  I could see nothing at first as I tried to see what was happening.  Without warning there was suddenly more of Lot’s army charging forward across the fields and I was once again forced to fight as another found me.  Survival was the most basic need that guided me now.   My enemy now was an older man this time.  My enemy!  How this could be when I had never seen him before, knew nothing about him.  This was not supposed to be my fight at all; I needed to be just a supporting squire.  I saw his eyes and imagined mine were now as lifeless.  No emotion, instead his blade struck out with determination and purpose and my blocking of it struggled to hold him back.

             
He had a simple large wooden shield of substantial quality, but as well he had a chain mail shirt and confidence of experience that not so long ago I envied.  The feelings were different now, my perceptive changed.  I stepped back and he pushed forward thrusting the sword which I rushed to block again.  I could not attack back, he had a shield and if all I did was hit that then he had an open opportunity to strike me.  Only at any moment I was not going to be quick enough to stop his advance.

             
A low cut to my legs forced me to jumped back to avoid being caught.  Now he was over stretched, but I was off balanced and had no time to strike before he had his shield in place and was already seeking another go.  Before I could manage to stop him or dodge this time, two men pushed straight into his side preoccupied with their own struggle to realise that we were in their way.  The battlefield was a site of a thousand separate worlds, moments of two people seeking to live at the expense of the other.

             
I stood suddenly alone, saved as my match was taken from me and they tumbled over each other onto the ground.  Each struggled to gain an advantage and in a moment the man I had been fighting was lying on the ground having been push away by the others as they continued on with their struggle and pleads to each live on.  He had no sword, he lost it in the collision and it had landed just out of his reach.  His shield was gone.  I dared not look away to see where the shield was as now, but he was exposed for attack.  Just waiting for my killing blow, my judgement, my authority to serve death, to exercise my right to take his life and save my own.  What I would take from him could be no clearer, but what about what he would take from me or was that already gone with my first kill, the first death by my hands?

             
He pushed his upper body up as he started to recover from hitting the ground.  Then he joined me in realising his predicament with an expression of clear understanding of his fate as he looked up towards me.  In the corner of my eye his waiting sword captured the polluted light.

             
I was a fool and no one would disagree as I stepped back, he looked bewildered as to my decision.  Another step, still he made no movement.  A third step and I added the slightest of nods.  He returned the nod after a hesitation.  Slowly he pulled himself across and took back his sword.  I made ready as he pulled himself to his feet.  I did not understand my own thoughts anymore; it was like watching someone else from a distance.  Did I want to die now or was this being honourable?  Questions and question and no answers, just a swirl of confusion, panic and pleading for help.  I was desperate to find a difference between a murderer and a squire fighting for his king and I had somehow decided that allowing him to take back his sword was that difference.  It was what an honourable knight would do.  I did not care there might not be no such knight in the land, but this was my world right now and I was going to be the knight I had always wanted to find.

             
If only for the next few seconds of my life!

             
Perhaps because I had given him the second chance, he understood he had to begin.  He raised the sword with both hands and I blocked his first strike, in an instant he pulled back and went low just as he had planned.  I had expected this too and was quick to block, only I was not expecting his left hand to part from the hilt of the sword and punch my head sideways and across the chin knocking my jaw back.  I then staggered back and dropped my guard with my sword lowered.  No pain at first, just stunned and numb, but my cheek was cut as the end of his chain mail caught me.  My eyes watered and pain now followed with some cursing.    Except I was not now as dead as I was supposed to be!  There was no follow up to finish me off and take advantage of my foolish lack of defence at that moment.

             
Looking up I saw he just waited, just beyond sword length.  “That makes it equal.”  He said calmly and I got a sense he loathed the idea of having to owe me anything and now was content this debt had been paid quickly.

             
I looked deep into his eyes; any feeling behind them I thought I saw for fleeting second was iced over.  I was still as the initial pain faded and I understood any sudden movement from me would resume the fight.  We could not stand forever this way and I simply nodded and my sword found its centre.

             
He gave me no prospect to strike first, his sword was upon me almost as soon as I finished nodding and I was forced back under the continuous onslaught.  Clearly now he wanted this over with, courteously was ended and he wanted to be onto the next opponent.  After a few poor blocks that I just managed to sustain, I finally pushed back.  I swept the sword around from the left and he was obliviously prepared for it and at once blocked me effectively.  Then he went on to draw back his arm and his blade to form an attack of his own, obliged to raise his sword to at least head height.  As I was outstretched, he assumed I would draw back as well to be ready to stop him from attacking again, but instead I continued my path and spun right around, my head and shoulders crouched low, not least because I partly expected my choice to be a mistake.  Only I had to risk something or be beaten anyway.  I was quick and it only was a matter of next to nothing that even a second was too long to measure.  As he went to strike me down and complete his move, I had completed my spin and held firm to my sword that went on to take his legs out from under him.

             
A weaker sword would have broken and I was thankful for the one I had with renewed appreciation for the benefit of being Kay’s squire.  The man fell and I stepped back one foot back for support before raising my sword in an instant.  I was then ready with sword high to….I stopped.  Ready to block or attack I had considered my next move, only now he remained on the ground, face down, his sword under him and blood pouring.  Was it my strike or his fall I was not sure and I guessed it did not matter, but knew he would be soon dead from such a wound.  I knew too that he was crying out something but I refused to hear and nor could I hear with my heart pounding in my head and my breath returning fast and hard as if I had held it for hours.