[Mkguild] The Spotting of a Knight: Part 1 of 3

[Kamau]

The Spotting of a Knight
Formerly; Pierga falls under the curse

By Kamau

Part 1
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The traveler had made good time since his pre dawn departure from 
Laselle.  This early departure had made certain that no one would see 
the direction he was taking.  While the man was dressed in plain 
clothing his bearing and features spoke of one of good birth.  He sat 
upon his mount with the natural ease of one who has spent many days in 
such labor.  His frame was large and upon the ground he would easily 
look over his horse's back.  The hands that held the reins were hard but 
not callused from work and the breadth of his arms spoke of great strength.

His features also offered clues to his station.  The dark brown hair 
beneath his cap was well kept and his beard well shaped giving his face 
a noble appearance.  But his eyes were what commanded all else.  Grey as 
steel and as piercing as any blade they missed not a thing they fell 
upon.  And yet within those eyes was an emptiness that held some deep 
secret, one that if discovered he knew could cost him his life.

For a brief moment, out of habit, he rested his hand upon the hilt of 
the sword that hung by his side.  As if he had been stung by a bee he 
yanked his hand away.  Staring at the weapon he clinched his teeth, his 
face distorted in pain.  He knew this former tool of his trade was now 
only a decoration or idle threat at best.

The road had been mostly empty so far but now, in the early morning 
light, he saw a small child, perhaps of ten years, coming toward him.

"Strange a child being out here at this time of day," he thought as they 
neared each other.

"Good day traveler," the boy cried out. "Tis a fine morning to be out on 
the road."

"Indeed it is," the horseman replied eyeing the lad who was burdened 
with two bundles slung from a yoke across his shoulders. "Is the road 
clear ahead?"

"I can only speak back to the cross roads where I did begin," he 
answered. "You should have no difficulties as the duke keeps this road 
in good repair."

"My thanks lad," he called back as the child passed him and continued on.

Slowly shifting the string of beads he held in his hand he resumed his 
prayer according to his custom while traveling.

"Hail Yanlin, filled with grace," he murmured. "The Lord dwells with 
thee.  Blessed above all of women thou be."

As he mouthed the prayers on each bead this day his thoughts drifted far 
from his usual intention.

"I'm certain that boy never would have greeted me if I were still 
dressed as a Yesbearn knight," he mused to himself. "and certainly not a 
knight such as Pierga of La Hovan."

He hung his head for a moment as he recalled his past life.  Then with a 
sigh looked at the sky.

"Oh how right they were to fear the evil creature I had become," he said 
to the heavens. "I praise you Eli for having opened my eyes.  Oh 
Yahshua, have mercy on me."

Pushing more thoughts of the sins he bore out of his mind he looked back 
at the beads in his hand and continued.

"Now and as we draw near our death, Amen."

Searching the road ahead of him he caught the first glimpse of a tower 
not far from the road.  The wooden structure rose above the canopy of 
the surrounding woods giving any in the small chamber that sat atop its 
four legs a commanding view of the land.

"Watch tower?" he questioned as he drew nearer to the place. "but for what?"

His eyes strained to see if it was occupied and blinked in disbelief as 
a face appeared in one of the large windows.  It was not the face of a 
man but that of a skunk.  Assuring himself that he was not mistaken he 
returned his gaze to the road until he was near opposite the place where 
the tower stood.  Looking once again he now saw the face of what looked 
to be a child appear in the same window.

"What madness is this?" he murmured forcing himself to look away less he 
draw the watchman's attention. "A beast and a boy in a tower such as 
that?  Is this some kind of waking dream?"

Shortly a bend in the road placed the tower out of view and he returned 
to his prayer.  A few minutes later, as he replaced the prayer beads in 
his pocket he saw a cart coming toward him.  Yet again he blinked in 
astonishment at what he saw.  Sitting upon the seat was a creature that 
could have as easily been pulling the conveyance.  From its ears to its 
muzzle the figure's head looked every inch of a horse.  Its hands as 
well seemed somewhat misshapen but not what one could truly call 
hooves.  Averting his stare he passed the cart and continued on.  Then 
he suddenly remembered what had been said in Laselle about a cursed town 
to the north.  Surely that was the origin of these beast-men he had been 
seeing.

As he approached a road leading to the west he saw a woman carrying a 
pack basket filled with greenery.

"Good day to you traveler," she called out as he neared. "I see you are 
new to our lands."

"What makes you say that?" the traveler asked.

"You come with your horse laden as if there were no places to stay in 
Metamor," the woman said as he stopped a short distance from him. 
"You're not even an hour from one place that would lodge you and you 
could certainly make the Keep before dark."

"The Keep?" he asked now concerned he would soon be in another place 
where he might be recognized.

"My, you are new to these parts," she said. "Metamor Keep.  It's where 
Duke Thomas rules from and the finest city in the valley."

The news that a noble dwelled in this Keep made him certain that he did 
not want to go there.

"Is that where you're bound?" he asked hoping to find a way of avoiding 
the Keep within this conversation.

"No I'm going to Iron Mine," she explained. "I just came out here to 
gather some wild herbs for a remedy I'm preparing for the Inn keeper's 
boy.  The woods to the west had exactly what I was looking for."

"I see," he replied looking in the direction she had indicated she was 
going. "So you're a healer in that camp?"

"Oh it's more then a camp," the woman told him. "It's a fair little 
village but the name deceives many a newcomer like yourself."

"Are there towns up this road as well?" Pierga asked gesturing up the 
road she had just descended.

"There's a couple small hamlets, more a cluster of cottages really, just 
up the way but the road stops at the foot of the mountain not long after 
the branch that runs off to the old Keep."

"Old keep?" he questioned.

"Yes, one of the old mountain keeps but it hasn't been used for a very 
long time.  That road is so overgrown that you can hardly tell it's even 
there now.  They never did repair the keep after it was sacked and that 
was long before my time."

"Doesn't that leave you vulnerable to attack?" he replied.

"No more then any other place in the valley," she said. "Most all the 
mountain keeps are abandoned now.  We rely mostly on the scouts to keep 
us safe."

"Well I should be on my way," he said giving his horse a gentle nudge.

"Pleasant journey," the woman replied moving in the direction of Iron Mine.

For a few minutes Pierga continued up the road then turned back to where 
he had met the woman.  If this road did run up to the mountains it might 
just be the place he was looking for.  Pulling his horse to the right he 
began making his way up the side road.

The woman had been right when she said that there was little more then a 
scattering of cottages along this ascent to the mountains.  Shortly 
after he passed the second cluster he saw what looked to be the remnants 
of a road off to his left.  Save for the way the old growth trees were 
cut back it was hard to discern.  Pausing for a moment he looked up the 
overgrown path and considered his options.  Dismounting he slowly made 
his way into the woods near the road.  While the young trees and bushes 
had overtaken the old highway the thick canopy of the older trees to 
either side kept the woods relatively free of undergrowth.  Carefully 
leading his horse he made his way back toward the mountains.

After traveling for some hours Pierga could see that the woods were 
thinning out.  Then he saw something ahead that assured him he was near 
his goal.  Just beyond where the woods seemed to thin was a wooden pale 
that had obviously been neglected for many years.  Moving forward he 
could see many places where the picket had rotted and now lay on the 
ground.  At one time it would have been a sizable obstacle to anyone 
going this way but not now.  Pierga guided his horse through one of the 
openings then turned toward the road itself.  He moved past the remnants 
of a fallen gate and turned onto the road.  He knew not why but here the 
brush and trees had not completely overtaken the highway.

Clear of the trees he now saw just how deeply he had penetrated into the 
mountains.  To each side rose steep rock faces that continued on to the 
peaks themselves.  Pierga turned his attention in the direction the road 
lead and saw only grey stone faces at first.  Then his eyes caught sight 
of what the woman had mentioned early that morning.  There, blending 
into the rock that it was undoubtedly cut from, stood a tower a good 
thirty feet in height.  About its base was a stone wall with a 
crenellated top from which defenders could easily slay any who would 
cross their killing field.  This was far beyond what he had expected to 
find and it gave him some concern that he stood well within bow shot of 
such a strong hold.

For a long moment he examined the keep looking for any sign of it still 
having an occupant.  Then he remounted his horse and eased it past the 
last of the brush blocking his path.  Keeping a weary eye on the tower 
he looked about the ground before it.  It became clear now why the land 
had not been overrun with brush.  Most of the ground was scarcely 
covered with enough soil for grass and bare rocks were visible 
everywhere.  At various places along the steep stone wall there were 
piles of rock that had crumbled to the valley floor.  As Pierga was 
within half a bow's shot he came upon what would have been the final 
defensive outwork.  This was a ditch, which stretched from one wall of 
the valley to the other, designed to slow an enemy's advance unless they 
stayed to the road.

A small bridge allowed the road to cross this defense.  For all 
appearances it lay in ruins, the nearest end being askew and half 
unseated from its footing.  Not trusting the bridge he was about to 
descend into the ditch when something drew his eye.  Dismounting he 
walked carefully down the incline.  Suddenly his footing gave way and he 
slid down the side, stopping only inches from the bottom.  There he 
found what he feared.  All along the bottom were implanted wooden spikes 
meant to impale any man or beast that simply tried to charge across 
them.  Looking back up the slope he saw that the earth which covered the 
sides was far too shallow to hold fast to the stone beneath it.  While 
he might cross with care he would not risk leading his horse this way.

Looking to the remains of the bridge he hoped he could find a solution 
to his dilemma.  Tying his mount to one of the old timbers he began to 
examine the structure.  Despite the apparent condition of the bridge the 
wood seem quite sound.  Cautiously stepping beneath it he could see that 
the main timbers seemed to be solid.  Gingerly stepping onto the bridge 
Pierga tested its planking.  Again all seemed sound despite the bridge 
being nearly half off its piers.  Testing each step he proceeded across 
to the other side and felt no movement in the disturbed bridge.  
Returning to the other side he untied his horse and led it to the other 
side.

Again he focused his attention to the tower watching for any movement 
that would warn him of danger.  He knew even if he were to see an enemy 
he would have no place to hide or run on this open plain.  Whoever had 
built this had made sure they had a vast killing field before them.

"This would certainly not be an easy siege," he commented as he took 
stock of what he had passed and the fortress before him. "I wonder what 
weakness was found that allowed it to be sacked?"

Examining the outer wall he saw it was simple but solid.  Perhaps forty 
paces along each side and a good fifteen feet to the top of the 
battlements.  The massive gates were open, one resting on the ground, 
its upper hinge no longer supporting its weight.  As he entered the 
courtyard only the blank stone wall of the tower faced him.  He could 
see on this and other levels arrow slots that would certainly rained 
death upon any entering.  To his left he could see stairs leading up to 
the wall and against the far wall seemed to be the remains of some kind 
of building.  As he turned the corner the first of the towers doors 
became visible.

The door was stood ajar and opened with surprisingly little resistance 
despite the loud objection voiced by its hinges.  Cautiously looking 
within he could make out several tables scattered about the chamber.  
Reaching to his belt he withdrew his dagger and stepped within.  As his 
eyes adjusted to the dim light coming from the arrow slits he surveyed 
the room.  This chamber had plainly been a common room, used for cooking 
and dining.  There were a half dozen tables and benches along with a 
large hearth, iron pots and other utensils still lying before it.  To 
Pierga's right a set of stairs led to the next level.  Looking about he 
saw there was no place for anyone to hide and so tied up his horse.

Carefully testing each step he ascended the stairs to the tower's next 
chamber.  Looking across the floor for any sign of occupants he made his 
way into the chamber proper.  The larger and more numerous slits of this 
level gave a fuller but eerie light to the room.  Here the first hint of 
what had happen so long ago presented itself to him.  The room contained 
several beds; some baring the marks of sword or axe cuts while others 
bristled with arrows.  Reflexively he made the sign of the Yew as he saw 
the bones of the men who had slept there still laying beneath their 
rotted blankets.

"By all that's holy," Pierga growled. "Do they not even bury their dead 
in this place?"

Yet even as the words escaped his lips he recalled the harsh realities 
of a soldier's life.  In war there were times the vanquished might never 
see a grave.  At least for these men their bones had not been scattered 
by some wild animal.  Suddenly a shudder ran through him as he recalled 
how he had left his fallen companions only days before.

"Oh dear Eli grant them peaceful rest in your kingdom," he prayed with a 
deep sigh.

Looking about the room he took note of a small hearth and several small 
chests.  There was also a table and chairs, still lying where they had 
been overturned in the battle.  From all that he saw in the room he 
guessed that this could have been the officer's quarters.

Moving back to the stairs he made his way toward the last chamber.  As 
he reached the first landing it was obvious that those in the chamber 
above had been alerted by the death cries of their companions below.  
The dark red stain of dried blood covered the boards and the rail to the 
side was nearly cleaved in two by the blows of a number of weapons.  As 
his head rose above the floor he could see that a strong battle had 
raged here.  Broken weapons and shields lay about the room as well as 
the bones of more of the defenders.  As he surveyed the room he could 
see that this was the soldier's quarters for three levels of sleeping 
platforms lined the walls.  Near the chimney were weapons racks, and in 
the center a ladder reached to a trapdoor above.

Careful not to disturb any of the bones, Pierga moved toward the 
ladder.  Resheathing his dagger he tested the rails then began to ascend 
making sure each rung would hold him before continuing on.  Pushing the 
trapdoor open he made his way to the battlement that topped the tower.  
To his great surprise the signs of battle were absent from this place.

"Did they surrender?" he pondered as he looked about. "Certainly this 
would have been the hardest place for an attacker to reach."

Moving to the wall he found iron rings to each side of the slots, some 
still holding arrows.  In the midst of each wall was a crude chest.  
Moving to one he opened it.  What he found within only deepened the 
mystery of what had happen to those stationed here for it was filled 
with arrows.  Looking out from whence he had come he could clearly see 
that a man stationed here could have easily picked him off as soon as he 
had passed the pale.

A sudden flash of movement in the corner of his vision cause him to spin 
about and draw his dagger.  There sitting on the far wall was a large 
black bird.

"Rrronk," it called, snapping its head from side to side and eyeing him. 
"Cr-ruck, rawk, rawk!"

"Noisy beast!" Pierga exclaimed sheathing his weapon. "Be gone!"

The bird simply sat on the wall, taking a step to the side while 
continuing to eye him.  Pierga looked for something to throw at the pest 
but finding nothing he simply moved in its direction.  He was only a few 
paces from it when it leaped from the wall and took to flight.

As he watched the bird disappear to the west he saw how the sun was low 
on the horizon.  His cautious journey through the woods had consumed 
most of the day and he knew the light would fail soon.  Descending to 
where he had left his horse he returned to his search of the courtyard.  
The structure he had seen against the wall appeared to be a small stable 
with two stalls and a place for supplies.  In the opposite corner was a 
small building with shuddered windows, another set of stairs leading to 
the wall nearby.  The door to this building bore a lock plate and ring.  
Pierga moved to the door and drawing his dagger again, grasped the ring 
and pulled.  The door resisted, yielding only a fraction of an inch.  
Again, with greater force, he pulled at the door but it held fast.  
Looking at the lock plate he pondered if the door might be locked.  Once 
again he seized the ring which turned slightly in his hand.  Twisting 
the ring farther he heard the cry of rust breaking free and a sudden 
release.  A slight pull now opened the door revealing a finely crafted 
latch within.

"Something of value or someone of station must have been here," he said 
looking within before entering.

Once inside he could see from the light of the door this was indeed a 
living chamber for someone.  Making certain the door would remain open 
to admit the dimming sun Pierga stepped in.  Save for the dust and 
spider webs the room was in remarkably good order.  Across from the door 
was a table with three chairs.  A tankard its owner had left on his last 
day within set near the edge.  In the right corner of the room was a bed 
still neatly made save for the ravages of mouse and moth.  At the other 
end was a small hearth and to its right a familiar piece of furniture.  
There sat a small cross that soldiers called an armor tree.  Pierga was 
certain that only a man of high station would have had such to store his 
plate upon when he was not wearing it.  This had to be the quarters of 
the keep's commander.

The light was growing too dim to explore much more but as he turned to 
leave his eyes fell on that which might hold the answer to some of the 
questions filling his mind.  To the right of the door he had entered sat 
a small writing table next to a fine chest.  Upon its top was a quill in 
an ink pot and a book.  There was also a small chest sitting near the 
back corner of the table fit for a man of station.  Moving to the table 
Pierga opened the book and glanced at the pages.  In the dim light he 
could not read but a few words and so decided to leave it for the morning.

He carefully closed and latched the door as he left to keep his find as 
safe as it had ever been.  He now turned his attention to what needed to 
be done for the night.  Moving to the stable he saw that while weather 
beaten it was still serviceable enough to use.  Looking to the supply 
room he discovered a set of grooming tools as well as other gear that 
would aid him in the days ahead.

Removing his horse's saddle he led it into one of the stalls and closed 
the gate.  He then set about clearing a place for himself to spend the 
night.  Returning to the second chamber of the keep he removed several 
of the moth eaten blankets and used them to soften the ground on which 
he would sleep.  Perhaps in the days ahead he would choose to stay in 
the keep or the commander's dwelling but not this night.  Satisfied with 
his preparations he turned his attention to his mount.  With the skill 
beaten into him as a squire he lovingly brushed the animal.  He had 
carried the young squire Yuther in his final mission but now obediently 
carried the man who was responsible for his death.  He only wished he 
had some oats to offer the beast but such provisions would have been too 
great a burden.  With a final stroke of the brush through its mane he 
patted it on the neck.

"When the time comes I will see to it that you have a proper owner," the 
knight said, resolve in his voice. "That is if Eli will grant me to 
remain safe for a time."

Leaving the stall Pierga walked around the courtyard examining the 
grounds for any dangers.  The small door in the back of the wall was 
barred but the gates to the front could not be closed.  Moving back to 
these gates he pondered what might be done to ensure his safety for the 
night.  Seeing some barrels under the stairs leading up to the bastions 
he chose to roll some to block the way.  While it would be easy for a 
man to move them aside the noise of doing so would give him the warning 
he would need to be prepared.

By the time this was done the sun had long set and the stars and moon 
gave what light they could to the night.  Before retiring he walked up 
to the wall's battlements and looked out over the land.  As best as the 
light from the moon would reveal there was nothing of consequence to be 
seen.  Returning to the stables he unrolled his own blanket and laying 
an axe he had found near his head settled in for the night.

As he slept the dream that had haunted him since he burned the temple 
played before him yet again.  But this night it underwent a frightening 
change.  Every night since he had set out to rescue Fr. Ari the dream 
ended with the knights of Yesbearn coming forth ready to cast him into 
the eternal flames.  This night they did not come.  Instead, after the 
chasm opened, he found himself kneeling at its edge staring into the 
flames of eternal punishment.  Then he was no longer in his body but 
looking at it from a distance so that he was only a silhouette against 
the flames.  Suddenly his body began to distort and change.  His legs 
became animal like and a tail sprouted from behind him.  He could see 
his head change as well.  A muzzle pushed out from his face and a pair 
of protrusions burst forth from the top of his skull.  Then a roar came 
forth from this inhuman form that sounded like that of a wild beast.

With a gasp Pierga awakened from his slumber.  He was drenched in sweat 
and his body was trembling.  Peering about he searched the darkness but 
for what he did not know.  Grabbing the axe he rose and walked all about 
the courtyard, checking every door and gate.  Finally satisfied that 
there was nothing about he returned to his bed and slowly returned to 
his sleep.  His hope of peaceful slumber however was dashed when his 
dream resumed but not in the usual fashion.

Now he knelt before the chasm, the flames rising in anticipation of his 
ultimate fate.  Then a clicking sound drew his attention away from the 
abyss.  Coming out of the darkness was not the knights of days past but 
common soldiers carrying axe and sword, bow and pike.  As they drew near 
they raised their weapons revealing white bones grasping their tools of 
war.  Looking now at the faces each was an empty skull, the eye sockets 
deep and dark, swallowing any light that drew near.  A man with a 
halberd stepped forward and with a bony finger pointed at Pierga.  Try 
as he might Pierga could not mouth the question he desired to ask.  
Several of those in the ranks made the sign of the Yew and the leader 
jabbed his finger at him again.  Suddenly a wail rang out and the flames 
behind the former Yesbearn roared.  For the second time that night he 
found himself wide awake staring into the darkness.

For a long time he simply lay there beneath his blanket trying to make 
sense of this new dream.  His mind refused to quiet itself sufficiently 
for him to return to sleep and as the dawn broke he rose to meet it.  
Taking some bread and cheese from his saddlebag he broke his fast.  
Sipping some water from his costrel he climbed the stairs to survey the 
land beyond the keeps walls.

The sun poured into the flatlands before the keep while the mountains 
that surrounded it kept the stronghold itself in shadow.  To the west 
Pierga could see a stream that flowed down the small valley to the south 
and east.  It ran across the ditch and through the pale disappearing 
into the woods beyond.

"Perhaps some fresh meat can be taken there," he said hoping there might 
be fish for the taking.

His eyes followed the stream to the north as it entered a cut in the 
steep wall.  A small pool, formed by a falls that sprung from the 
mountain itself, gave the stream its birth.  From his angle of view he 
could only guess at its height though he felt certain it was at least 
equal to that of the tower.  Turning to the north he could see the 
ground was covered with rocks and rubble.  Near the rocky face itself he 
now saw what appeared to be a wall partly buried beneath boulders, some 
larger than a house.  As he looked above this debris he could see jagged 
cliffs much further up the mountain.  Their rugged unweathered nature 
made it clear that sometime in the not so distant past a portion of that 
face had given way covering all that stood before it.  Finally turning 
his eyes to the south and toward the pale he saw what he knew he must 
have if this was to be his encampment until he returned south.  To the 
west, between the ditch and the pale, he could see the green of grass 
that would be needful for his horse.

Descending the stairs he saw the bird that had startled him on the 
battlement last night helping itself to the bit of bread he had left out.

"Shoo!" Pierga cried starting to run for the feathered thief. "Find your 
own meal."

The bird quickly grabbed a portion of the bread and took to the air, 
carrying its prize over the wall.

With a shake of his head he returned to the stable and opened the 
stall.  He would have to be more careful to keep his food covered with 
that black bandit about.  Giving his mount a bit of a rub he placed the 
bridle back upon it and led it out onto the plain.  Moving first toward 
the stream he allowed the animal to nibble at whatever grass there was 
in the shallow soil.  The land sloped upward toward the water's head and 
did yield to more fertile ground as they neared the stream itself.

Letting his horse feed on the grass growing near the water's edge Pierga 
looked to the falls that lay but some two hundred feet from him.  Now 
that he was nearer it was clear that the falls was much higher then he 
had imagined.  It fell straight from the granite face like a giant 
picture pouring water into the valley below.  The sides of the cut were 
far too steep for anyone to scale and the manner in which the waters 
spew forth obscured the point at which it left the mountain.  It was an 
impressive sight as the falls dropped perhaps a hundred feet to form 
this stream that fed the valley.

Leading his horse along the bank he looked for any sign of animals that 
might come by to refresh itself here.  He found no clear signs of life 
but then he was a knight not a woodsman who could read such signs with ease.

As he neared the protective ditch Pierga noted that the land to each 
side of the stream had been carved not by the waters but by hand to 
lower its course.

"Why would someone go to the trouble of altering the stream," Pierga 
wondered until he reached the edge of the ditch.

As the waters of the stream reached the edge it poured over only to 
enter a pool cut out of the rock.  From there it exited a narrow cut in 
the far wall of this trench preventing it from turning it into a moat.  
The knight knew that a moat, while a good defense was often foul and as 
much a danger to the defenders as it was to the enemy.  He questioned 
again why do the work if not to create a moat.

Before he could consider the reason for this he saw the answer ahead of 
him.  Just beyond in the wall of the trench was a great stone.  It was 
much like that found in a mill save that it was solid, with no hole for 
the shaft.  It lay within a channel carved in the rock such that with a 
lever men could roll it across the streams course.  This would allow the 
ditch to be turned into a moat at will, offering yet greater 
protection.  He reasoned that the deposits of soil upon its wall 
testified to this having been done on many occasions.  Still he 
questioned the value of all this work.

"Why would someone go to all this trouble?" the knight pondered. "Is 
there something here of great value that I do not yet see?  And if this 
place had been attacked why is this defense not deployed?"

Looking beyond the water gate to the west and south he could see where 
the rocky floor yielded to more fertile land.  Undoubtedly the stream 
overflowed its banks at times leaving whatever meager earth it carried.  
Perhaps this was the reason for the deeper channel and the pool within 
the ditch.  At least here there was grass for his horse to feed upon 
though there would certainly be no danger of his becoming fat.

As the sun rose higher in the sky Pierga and his mount walked all the 
land between the pale and the keep.  By mid morn the horse seemed to 
have satisfied itself and Pierga led him back to the stable.  With the 
sun sufficiently high in the sky he decided to make a better examination 
of the keep.

Entering the lower chamber he now opened the second door upon the north 
side allowing more light within.  Just as he had seen the night before 
the chamber was unremarkable.  There was a bench or two overturned but 
no signs of an outright battle such as in the chamber above.  Now 
however with the fuller light he noticed something he had failed to see 
before.  To the left of the hearth was a large trap door in the wooden 
floor.  No doubt beneath was a store room of some kind.  As he drew near 
the cover he could see a hook place squarely above it that could easily 
be used to lower supplies by rope.  Hung from the wall was a lantern 
that was certainly used by whoever descended into this larder.  
Examining the lantern Pierga found that the oil within had long ago 
dried up.  Looking about he saw several bottles and flasks that might 
just hold the fuel he would need for this useful tool.  While some still 
retained their contents none proved to hold the needful lamp oil.  This 
would have to wait until after he had fashioned a torch from some of the 
pine he had seen in the wood.

Ascending the stairs he returned to the chamber that had been the seat 
of whatever final battle was fought here.  The day light coming from the 
slits revealed in greater detail the fierce battle that had raged within 
these walls.  A broken blade lay near the hearth and a wooden chest near 
by bore the deep gash of an axe.  Near the table pottery shards and 
tankards lay where they had fallen that day.  Every inch of this room 
spoke of a hard fought battle.

Pierga now turned his attention to the unfortunate souls who had never 
risen from their beds.  In the first bed nearest the stairs he found the 
bones of a man who had died quickly for the broken shaft of an arrow 
still rested within his skull.  The partially cast off blanket was full 
of moth holes and the shirt that the man had worn that night had faired 
no better.  Then something caught the knight's eye.  Lying within the 
man's ribs was a small simple Yew.  Pierga crossed himself seeing this 
man was a fellow Follower.

"I shall lay you to rest soon," he said turning to see where the next 
body lay.

At the last bed against this wall lay the bones of one who had at least 
risen to face his enemy.  There was no certainty of how he had died but 
as the knight approached he saw no signs of sword cuts on the bone so he 
supposed that he too had been slain by arrows.  As he continued to 
examine the man's remains he found yet another Yew amidst the bones of 
this fallen warrior.

In the back of Pierga's mind an explanation was forming as to why these 
men had not been buried.  Steeling himself for what he would find next 
he moved to the soldier who lay on the floor near the overturned table.  
Not far from the bones of his hand lay the hilt of a broken sword.  The 
cuts and shattered bones of his neck were certain signs of an axe having 
ended his life.  As he had feared he would Pierga found a Yew on the 
floor only a short distance from him.  Against the far wall of the room 
were the other beds and here lay the last of those slain.  The bones of 
the arm lay on the floor next to the bed while the body was still upon 
the remnants of the straw tick.  He did not attempt to discover the 
cause of this man's death but rather searched for and found the sign of 
his faith.  More over upon the small chest that was near the bed lay a 
copy of the Canticles, a ribbon holding the place where he had last 
read.  He opened the book to the place and found one of the Psalms.



Blessed be the LORD, my rock,
who trains my hands for battle,
my fingers for war;
My safe guard and my fortress,
my stronghold, my deliverer,
My shield, in whom I trust,
who subdues peoples under me.



Closing the book he looked at the man and prayed that Yahshua would have 
mercy on him and grant him a place in his kingdom.  Walking to the 
stairs he paused for a moment and looked once again at the slain.  Had 
the real battle here been one of faiths?  Was this an Ecclesia 
stronghold?  Had this been the work of those of the Lothanasi?  But if 
so why was the keep not retaken by them?  Why abandon such a strong hold 
and leave these men to rot where they fell?

Setting his thoughts aside he climbed to the next chamber.  As the day 
before he saw the piles of bones where man had yielded their lives.  
Moving to each on Pierga saw the all bore some sign of the Ecclesia.  A 
shudder ran through him when he saw one near the stone chimney that led 
from the hearth below.  Running through its ribs was a spear at the same 
angle as had been made by the sword that ended young Yuther's life.  
Within this morbid vestige of a chest, where the heart should have been, 
lay a small silver Yew.  No doubt a gift from one who loved this man so 
long ago.

Moving to the ladder he returned to the tower's crenellated roof.  Just 
as on the previous day there was no sign of battle here.  Arrows aged 
and weathered stood in the rings meant to give the archers easy access 
to them in time of war.  The wooden roof above the battlement allowed 
beams of sunlight to break through where it had been damaged by storm 
and lack of repairs.  Remembering his find of the night past he moved 
about and examined all the chests.  Each contained arrows and one held 
some bows as well.  If the need arose he certainly had the equipment at 
hand to mount a defense.

Making his way back down Pierga cast a glance around each chamber.  He 
knew what he must now do but the question was where to do it and with 
what tools.  As he looked about the officers quarters one last time he 
noted a metal lantern lying in the corner.  Picking it up he was 
surprised to find a candle within untouched by the years.  This was the 
tool that would allow him to explore the cellar for a time at least but 
first he would need a fire to light it from.

Returning to the main chamber he moved to the large hearth and cleared a 
place.  To the side of the hearth was a pile of firewood untouched and 
ready for use.  Drawing forth some smaller pieces a family of mice ran 
for safety as their long time home was disturbed.  Drawing his knife 
Pierga made a pile of shavings and moved several of the charcoal 
remnants of the last fire about them.  He next carefully arranged the 
smaller wood to catch the new flames he hoped to light.  Taking out some 
tow, char cloth and his flint and striker he set about creating that 
flame.  While his skill had diminished from lack of use in time he had a 
small fire from which he could light the candle.

Moving to the trap door he examined it for any signs of hinge or 
handle.  Recessed into the one side was an iron ring covered with dirt.  
Brushing the ring clean he lifted it and attempted to pull the door 
open.  While it lifted slightly he could not move it clear of its sill.  
For a moment he wondered if the door was designed to need more than one 
man to open.  Then he recalled the hook above the door that he had 
suspected was for lowering supplies.  Perhaps it was for more than 
that.  Looking about he saw a coil of rope hung near the hearth, a hook 
attached to the end.

Casting the rope over the hook in the ceiling he placed the other in the 
ring on the door.  Grasping the rope Pierga pulled with all his might 
but only lifted himself off his feet, the door rising only slightly more 
than before.  Examining the door again he suddenly realized that the 
dirt from over the years had sealed the gap about the door like mortar, 
leaving it no way to swing free.  He returned to the wood pile and 
taking a small branch began to clean this gap.  Once again seizing the 
rope he pulled downward and with a grinding noise the door slowly lifted 
from its place.  Grabbing the edge of the door he pulled it back nearly 
pinning himself against the wall so great was the doors weight.  This 
caused a frightening thought to race through his mind.

"Oh Eli, please don't let it be so," he begged as he moved to now light 
the lantern. "Let not the others be left to starve in the bowels of this 
place."

Holding the lantern over the opening he could see a ladder leading down 
into the darkness.  Lowering the light he saw a row of barrels along 
each wall and some boxes more to the center.  Testing each rung Pierga 
lowered himself into the darkness.

Standing on the floor of the cellar he turned about to see what stores 
there might be left after the sacking.  Yet what met his eyes was not 
the disorder of a sack but a well ordered larder with barrels, boxes, 
bottles and bales all neatly stacked as if the steward had just left.

Turning his back to the ladder he saw large barrels lining the wall to 
his right and to his left a stack of many wooden crates.  Above the 
barrels hung several pack baskets, some fill with cloth bags.  Directly 
ahead of him, hung from the beams of the floor, were a number of now 
petrified pieces of meat.  Walking down and past these he could see yet 
more boxes stacked neatly in the far corner.  As he made his way between 
these two stacks of crates he could see a smaller pile with coils of 
rope lay atop them.  Moving to these he discovered they were filled with 
tools including a spade that he so badly needed to honor his pledge to 
the fallen Followers.

Turning to face the last wall he found a number of bales lying on the 
stone floor.  They seemed untouched by the rodents and he could only 
assume that this was due to the walls of this place being carved from 
the rock itself leaving little or no passage for them to enter.  But the 
effort needed to do such as that boggled the mind.  Again he questioned 
why such great labor for such a remote keep.

Moving back toward the ladder he now turned his attention to some boxes 
before the barrels on the wall.  Lifting the lid of one that had seemed 
open he discovered it filled with square bottles.  Taking one out and 
pulling the cork he quickly detected the smell of vinegar.  Moving to 
another box near it he found yet more bottles that to his surprise and 
delight contained oil.  While it may not have been meant for the 
lanterns above it certainly could be used for them.  He would continue 
this examination later but for now he had a task to perform.

Gathering up the spade, a pack basket and one of the blankets he 
returned to the common room above.  Extinguishing the lantern he laid it 
and the other items near the hearth then closed the trapdoor.  Realizing 
the amount of time he had spent within the tower he returned to the 
courtyard and took to the wall.  Not knowing if the place was frequented 
by hunters or others he made a quick examination of the surrounding 
land.  Satisfied that no one was about he left the keep and walked down 
the road.

"If I am to lay these men to rest," Pierga said voicing his plan. "I 
shall need a greater depth of soil then is here.  Perhaps a place near 
the wood will offer what I need."

He first examined the land near where his horse had grazed but found 
only a few inches of soil above the rock.  Crossing to the other side of 
the road he found only more of the same.  Making his way down the side 
of the stream he worried that he would be forced to bury these men among 
the trees.  As he was about to enter the older growth of woods something 
to his right caught his eye.  Looking to the ground he saw what appeared 
to be some flat stones such as those used in courtyards.  Moving in that 
direction he could not believe his eyes as he could make out a stone 
path leading near the stone face of the mountain.

As Pierga walked this path he noted that it was wide enough for four 
columns of men though now some of the forest had overtaken it in parts.  
Following this path he soon saw a small opening through the trees that 
might suit his purpose.  His ponderings were halted as he entered the 
clearing and his eyes fell upon the granite wall before him.  There, set 
within the side of the mountain were three doors, a fine stone yard laid 
before them.  The path led straight to this courtyard with lush green 
grass covering the rest of the clearing.  These doors were much like he 
had seen in the crypts in Yesulam and each bore a symbol and 
inscription.  On the one door was the carved image of the Yew with the 
inscription in the ancient script "Eternal rest grant unto them oh 
Lord".  The farther door bore the symbol of the Lothanasi though the 
inscription he could not read.  The middle door was a mystery for 
neither the symbol nor the inscription was familiar to him.

Moving to the door with the Yew upon it Pierga examined it.  To the side 
was an ornate plate with a handle and keyhole.  For a moment he 
considered if he should open it as it was certainly a sacred place.  
However he reasoned his purpose for doing so was noble and so he reached 
for the handle.

 From overhead and behind him a sharp loud cry sounded out.

"Rawack!"

Looking up he saw the large raven perched on a limb overlooking the 
small clearing.

"Rawack, arwk, arwk, rawack!" it called once more.

"You again?" Pierga said. "Go away, there's no food for you to steal here."

Grasping the handle he tried the door but it gave not an inch at his 
efforts.  Looking at the other doors he could see that of the Lothanasi 
had a similar handle but the middle door showed none.  In all other ways 
the door was identical to the others save where the handle should be was 
simply a black plate with several symbols etched into its metallic surface.

"Will this place never cease of puzzles?" Pierga said turning back 
toward the keep. "Perhaps I can find the key for the door and bring the 
fallen there."

Returning to the keep he immediately thought of the commander's cottage 
as the most obvious place to look.  Opening the door he entered and 
opened each window shutter to allow the light to fill the space.  With 
the full light of day filling the room Pierga could see all of its 
furnishings clearly.  Against the wall next to the bed was a small six 
board chest on which still rested a folded shirt.  Above this at about 
shoulder height was a shelf that stretched over the head of the bed as 
well.  On this were several books as well as a lantern much like the one 
he found in the officers quarters.  At the very end of the shelf was a 
chest much like the one on the table save it was smaller.  In the 
daylight he could see that each of these bore a set of arms carved into 
the leather which covered them.

"This man was of a good station if he bears arms," the knight said 
removing the small chest from its resting place and setting it on the table.

Opening the chest he quickly saw that while it held personal items, some 
of great value, there were no keys to be had.  Setting it aside he 
opened the larger chest.  Here he found only some writing paper and 
other assorted items.  Returning the small chest to the shelf he next 
looked at the six board chest near the bed.  Here again the contents 
were unremarkable for a soldier of a goodly station.  Lastly he moved to 
the large chest near the door.  This one was filled with mostly clothing 
and some linens but again the keys he hoped for were not to be found.  
Looking about the room he pondered where else a man might keep his keys.

"Perhaps he carried them on him," Pierga mused still examining the room. 
"if so only Eli knows where they might be now."

Closing the windows he returned to the tower and examined the officer's 
quarters never ceasing to be careful of the bones still lying on the 
floor.  His search however yielded no keys.

"There is no saving from it," he sighed and headed for the door. "These 
men will have to lie in the earth itself."

Picking up the spade from its resting place he walked back to the open 
ground near the tombs and began to dig.  He had gone no more then three 
feet into the earth when his blade again found rock.

"It will not be a deep grave but they have no danger of wild beast 
digging them up," Pierga said now lengthening the hole he had made.

Deep or not he had not completed two before the midst of the day had 
come.  Returning to the keep he took his noon meats and thought about 
bringing the bones of one man to place in the grave that was complete.  
If he pressed on with his work he reasoned that he could have the four 
officers buried before sunset and so chose to return straight to his 
digging.  After several hours of digging the graves for the fallen 
officers were ready.

Returning to the keep he entered the officer's chamber and considered 
how best he might move the remains to their final resting place.  Eyeing 
the straw ticks on the beds he reasoned that if they were still intact 
enough they might serve the purpose.  Going to the first bed he saw that 
it appeared to be sound enough to hold the bones.  Cutting the threads 
that bound it on one end he emptied the straw on the bed.

Taking the large bag to the first man's remains he knelt down and 
carefully placed the bones within.  The last thing Pierga put in the bag 
was the tiny Yew that the man had worn.  Cutting a strip of cloth from 
the end of the tick he tied it closed.  Moving to the next bed he 
discovered that this one was too riddled with mouse holes to be of use 
and so moved to the next.  Pierga managed to find enough of the other 
ticks whole to prepare the remains of all the officers for burial.

Carefully he carried the bags to the site he had prepared and lay each 
in a grave.  Then taking the spade he covered them over with earth and 
set to the head a small cross he had fashioned from wood.  Stepping back 
he paused for a moment thinking that these men disserved more then to 
simply be place beneath the earth but what could he do?  There was no 
priest to say a prayer nor could he seek one out with safety.  Then his 
eyes came to rest on the Ecclesial tomb door and he recalled the words 
the priest would say as they ended a burial and began to say the prayer.

"Eternal rest grant unto them O Lord," he said and stopped realizing 
there was no one else here present to reply to the prayers.  There was 
only one thing to do.  He would recite both parts.

"And let perpetual Light shine upon them," Pierga continued. "May their 
souls and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of 
Eli rest in peace.  Amen."

"Cr-r-ruck!" Came a now familiar sound.  Sitting on the branch above the 
graves was the bird that had plagued him from the first night.  He was 
now certain it was a raven.

"I see it is the same here as back in my own land," Pierga said picking 
up the spade. "Where there is death there are ravens.  Is that why 
you're here, because I'm burying the dead?"

The bird only jerked and tilted its head in reply.  Making the sign of 
the Yew he turned and walked back to the keep.  There was a very strange 
feeling about him as he tread the road back.  In all his days, not even 
as a squire had he dug a grave for a man let alone four.  He sifted 
through the emotions that assailed him.  It was a strange mix of 
sadness, loss, mortality and dread along with satisfaction, completion 
and peace.  More than once on that short walk did he feel the need to 
cross himself in response.

Reaching the keep he placed the spade with the other tools in the 
stable.  Drawing out some more of his supplies he sat down for his 
evening repast.  He knew he had to last perhaps a fortnight but he would 
need to find places where he could take game before long.  He would also 
need to look to the keep's larder and see if there was anything that 
could be salvaged after all this time.  As the sun set and darkness 
filled the keep Pierga reset the barrels that barred passage with the 
wall.  Rolling out his blanket he laid down well ready to rest after the 
day's labors.  In a few days perhaps he would sleep in the keep itself 
but not until the others were buried.

End Part 1 of The Spotting of a Knight


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