The knight’s command to flee fell on deaf ears. Ezekiel was petrified, rooted to the stone floor and wide, honey brown eyes transfixed on the skeleton whose helm nearly grazed the ceiling of the mausoleum. Disarmed, the skeleton lumbered forward, emitting a groan that made the air vibrate with rage. The guardian swung to strike Kilena with its remaining hand protected by a gauntlet, only to clang off her buckler shield. It stumbled, and she stole the opportunity to pull the thief into action. Throwing back her shield arm, she released the wood reinforced metal to let it hang from her forearm and snatched Ezekiel’s wrist. Uprooted, he was knocked off balance to fall if not for the aid of her strength. Kilena darted and dragged him into a run with her.
Heart pumping, the exit grew further away instead of closer. The torch in Ezekiel’s hand bobbed back and forth, sending her lengthy shadow dancing across the stone floor littered with decayed rodent corpses and fallen arrows soaked with poison. Over the clambering of their own hastened footsteps, it was difficult to discern if they were being followed yet. Kilena anticipated a few seconds at most before they were pursued. She turned her head as far as she could, sapphire eyes sliding to the furthest edge of their sockets, to peer beyond her helmet and spaulder for signs of the tomb’s strongest guardian. Suddenly, Ezekiel jerked her arm and she was ripped backward into a full stop with her next step.
Alarmed, he yelled, “Knight!”
Before she inquired, her head snapped forward. Stalking out of a burial chamber directly ahead was another skeleton knight, but the threat behind them was far worse. Releasing the man’s wrist, she reinforced her grip on the buckler and her next step brought her crouching down in front of this inferior guardian. With a mighty grunt, Kilena swung her entire torso to smash the round shield into the skeleton’s frame, and it careened back into the chamber where it landed with a crash. “Go,” she urged Ezekiel, insisting he continue without her. The pace of footsteps from the towering guardian behind them quickened. “I will be right behind you!”
He needed no further encouragement. Frightened out of his wits, he found the will to flee and leave Kilena in the pitch dark. Her sword directed toward the guardian, she cautiously stepped backward, moving from toe to heel. Shield poised in front of her, she ducked her head behind it in preparation. She listened to her opponent’s pounding footsteps, the only means of discerning when it was close, but the echoes distorted the distance. Suddenly, the air rushed around her, signaling her enemy’s arrival. The claymore was already smashing into her shield when she realized the guardian was close enough to attack. Kilena stumbled back with the force of the blow, but her boot scraped across the floor to correct her balance. Blind, she swiped low with her sword, seeking the knees of her opponent’s armor to make it buckle. Following through, her right foot flew off the ground and aimed high. A reinforced heel struck its chest plate hard to knock it back, and then Kilena defended again.
“Thief! Arrest him!”
The shouting distracted her. Unwittingly, she had sent Ezekiel to his captors. In addition to the danger she faced, she raced against time. Knowing the exit must have been close to distinctly hear the voice of Lord Crowe, Kilena pivoted on her heel and sprinted, narrowly avoiding the claymore from crushing her helmeted skull. The dull tip sparked against the stone floor an instant after her boot pushed away.
The weight of steel plates, padded armor, and leather failed to impede the knight’s pace. Her arms and legs burned from the effort of climbing dilapidated stone steps, but she persevered to the exit and burst into the tepid afternoon sun cascading across the courtyard. “Wait,” Kilena demanded as she emerged from the mausoleum’s depths, encountering a dozen armed guards and their lord hiding behind them. Torso rising and falling with every breath she heaved from exertion, she turned half a step around. One final groan, this one of defeat, escaped the skeleton guardian before it retreated back into the depths of the crypt. From one encounter into the next, Kilena boldly faced the guards in the process of arresting the terrified thief.
A warm afternoon sun shimmered across helmets and weapons of the gathered guards, gawking at the shadowy doorway to the mausoleum. Collectively, their gazes drifted to glance uneasily at one another. They stood in a garden overflowing with luscious green grass, decorated with vibrant flowers cultivated along a stone fence that surrounded the cemetery. Immaculate headstones, round and square, were evenly placed in honor of fallen knights that faithfully served the kingdom.
“Arrest him,” Lord Crowe shouted belligerently, jabbing his finger toward Ezekiel. He offered no sign of resistance as the torch was ripped from his hand and extinguished.
In protest, Kilena shouted, “You cannot arrest this man!”
Shackles, dull and grimy, hung in one pair of gloved hands, poised to clasp around the prisoner’s wrists, until Kilena’s stern objection. The guard charged with capturing the thief hesitated.
“Explain yourself, former knight of the Iron Rose, before I have you arrested as well,” shouted the town’s lord, wearing a regal emerald robe around his shoulders.
Accepting permission to offer an explanation, Kilena strode toward Ezekiel and sheathed her sword in the scabbard strapped to her back. She rested this now free hand on his shoulder to offer support, while her buckler hung from the other. “You are safe,” she promised. “Please turn over your hand and show them the stone.”
Ezekiel dipped his chin, inspecting one hand and then the other, suddenly understanding an item was clutched to his palm. He raised his occupied hand and uncurled his fingers, displaying a smooth onyx stone with an ancient symbol carved into its polished surface.
“With all due respect, your majesty, this should be all the explanation you need,” Kilena advised, her gentle gaze rising from their inspection of the stone to Lord Crowe’s broad countenance.
While the guards blinked at one another in bewilderment, the lord’s beady, umber eyes widened with recognition. “The rune of renewal. An ancient magic locked away with my ancestor.” At hearing the identity of the enchanted item in his palm, Ezekiel turned his hand and let the stone plummet to the ground.
“Then you understand this man’s condition, and why he should not be prosecuted,” Kilena declared, satisfied.
“No,” the lord barked in protest. “He wrongfully entered my family’s crypt with the intent to steal heirlooms from their coffins. He is wanted for crimes of banditry and murder across many kingdoms. This thief will face punishment!”
Kilena allowed him to finish speaking, and she heeded his words well. Ezekiel lowered his hand and she stepped in front of him, to place herself between the criminal and the judge. “K-Kilena? I- Where am I? Who- who are they? I can’t remember,” Ezekiel meekly stuttered.
Ignoring the addled man, Kilena addressed the lord directly. “You informed me of the reasons Ezekiel needed to be captured and justice served. At the time, I wholly agreed. When I discovered him, he had already forgotten his name. He is lost and frightened,” she explained fervently, but with care. “How can justice be served? What remorse would there be when he fails to remember the deed for which he is being punished? No satisfaction will be found, nor vengeance, in watching this man who has forgotten his past face the gallows.”
Aggravated, Crowe questioned, “Are you suggesting we let a criminal walk free?”
“If that is your view then you are more narrow minded than I feared,” she said with restrained scorn, treading dangerously near the line of disrespect. “You are a noble man known for his mercy. This man deserves to take advantage of the chance he has been given to live a new life free of evil,” Kilena pleaded graciously. “Give him that opportunity.”
“Fine,” he bitterly conceded, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine! He is your responsibility, and I never want to see either of you in Crowedge again!”
“So be it,” she agreed sullenly.
“And one more thing, former knight,” he interjected as she began turning away. She paused and lifted her bright eyes to peer at the lord with undivided attention. “I expect you to do the right thing if he steps out of line again.”
“Your meaning is clear. You have my word,” Kilena promised dutifully, but bristled with contempt.
He pivoted on the heel of his boot, simultaneously gesturing for the guards in his company to follow. Grumbling, he remarked, “Never trust a woman to do a man’s job.”
Marked by a golden crow on his helmet, the guard’s general followed his lord and was first to unleash a bellowing laugh. The men in his charge chortled all at once, and they marched away with a renewed spring of confidence in their step. A reward for Lord Crowe’s insult that drove a wretched dagger into Kilena’s chest.
Spurned, the strength to depart the courtyard drained from her spirit. Shoulders sinking, a frown creasing her pale pink lips, her head hung. Sighing, a familiar burn stung her eyes.
The grim garden emptied save for the thief with a new lease on life and the knight nursing an invisible injury. Kilena’s left arm raised up behind her as she returned the buckler to its holster on her back. While reaching for her helmet, the pressure of a hand appeared on her spaulder and she rotated in place to face Ezekiel. Timidly, a honey brown and uncertain stare searched her face. He smiled and earnestly said, “I’m not- not sure what happened, but I know I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you. Thank you.”
A cleansing respiration expanded her torso as she inhaled, and slowly released a barrel of exasperation on the same breath. Dusting off comments similar to those made by the lord was always a fight of its own. Moving on was easier with a supportive companion. Ezekiel’s gratitude returned a kind smile to Kilena’s round face. Spirit uplifted, she said, “Let us be on our way. I do hope you fancy a fair bit of walking.”
Kilena Shrelack 