[Mkguild] MK story Journeys part 6

[Christian Okane]

   The cathedral was a fine-looking stone building. Probably the only
substantial stone structure in the city besides the city walls. Two tall
steeples flanked the main entrance doors of well-polished bronze.

 

   Kenward, brother Harrick and a small entourage arrived at the bishop's
palace at half past nine in the morning. All of the knights had bathed and
their armor, always kept clean. had been cleaned again and the tabards they
wore over them were freshly cleaned and pressed.

 

   The building was of middling size. Larger than most buildings in the city
but far smaller than would be found in most other cities. It sat next to the
cathedral with only a short walk from one to the other. A single guard
holding a spear stood at the main door.

 

   As they came closer the door opened and a young priest came out, moving
at a good pace. Short, blonde hair framed a face that held a calm demeanor.
"Welcome."

 

   Kenward gave a short bow. "Please inform the bishop Tyrion Verdane that
Sir Godric Neville Kenward, Knightmaster of the Order of Protectors is here
to meet with him."

 

   The priest bowed in return. "Bishop Verdane welcomes you to Kelewair. I
am Father Goward. Please follow me."

 

 

***************

 

 

   The village of Glengormley was small. Barely one hundred people in a
score of buildings on either side of the road. The buildings were all stone
and clustered together in a tight group. A small manor house sat at one end
and an even smaller windmill at the other. The back walls of the buildings
were all bare stone and there was no open space between them This left the
only way into or out of the village being the road at either end. Both of
those were now closed with barricades of barrels, boxes and even overturned
wagons.

 

   A simple design when the village had been built (or rebuilt) made the
village nicely defensible. It would not withstand an assault by a full army
but it made the village easily defended against raiders and the occasional
overly bold bandit.

 

   Standing behind the northern barricade was a half dozen men all
brandishing a mix of spears, clubs and one man even had a bow.

 

   Edmund stopped the column one hundred feet from the barricade.  He moved
ahead alone, leaving Terry and the rest behind.

 

   A javelin lofted out from the barricade and struck the ground in front of
him. He walked past it without stopping. When he was sixty feet from the
barricade he stopped. "You missed," he said bluntly. "Never throw at a
target from that far out. You have a small chance of hitting and even if you
do the missile has lost most of its energy. The chance of it causing serious
injury is small. Wait till they get this close. Then throw."

 

   A second missile lofted up from the barricade and plummeted down towards
the cheetah.

 

   Edmund looked up at the descending missile with a almost casual gaze. He
took one small step to the left and the missile projectile thumped into the
earth mere inches from his paws

 

   "Better," He commented but you STILL missed."

 

   "Enough of your stupid tricks monster," A brown haired man behind the
barricade said coldly. "We were warned of your coming," the leader said
harshly. "You are raiding, looting, raping."

 

   "Monster?" Edmund leaned against the horn on his saddle. "And this
warning came to you from Midtown? Baron Donel?"

 

   "Yes," came the answer. "A rider came through here this morning. He's
warning everyone."

 

   "And you believed him?" The paladin answered.

 

   The man looked confused for a moment. "Of course. Why shouldn't we? Baron
Donel has protected or village for generations."

 

   "Do we look like raiders?" The paladin asked. "Do I look like some
bandit?"

 

   One of the other men waved a large spear at Edmund. "You . . . your one
of THOSE people. From the valley."

 

   "So that makes me a monster? The paladin asked. "A killer? A raider."

 

   "We know who you are and what you want," the man snarled.

 

   The paladin slowly shook his head. "No. No you don't. You know nothing
about us. Of that I am certain."

 

   "Begone!" The man ordered. "You'll not take this town without a fight.

 

   "So," Edmund said slowly. "You'll not be allowing us into your fine
village?"

 

   "NEVER!" The man shouted as he waved his spear about. "We'll fight you to
the death to defend our families and our homes." The rest of the people at
the barricade cheered and howled insults at their opponents.

 

   In his mind Edmund already had his attack worked out. His archers would
shower those at the barricade driving them off. The survivors would take
refuge in the buildings. These he would set fire with torches and fire
arrows. (Why do people still use thatched roofs? Thatch! So easily set
alight instead of slate or even wooden shingles.) Those who stayed in the
buildings would die in the fire. Those who ran out would be run down by his
knights or cut down by his infantry. But that was Edmund the soldier
thinking. Edmund the son of a noble family. But he was Edmund Delacot,
Knightbrother of the Order of Protectors.

 

   "In that case," Edmund said simply. "We'll leave you in peace."

 

   And to the utter astonishment of everyone in the village. They did just
that.

 

 

********************

 

 

   The Knightbrothers weren't taken directly to the bishop. Instead they
found themselves in a small room with some chairs and a large couch. Bland
pictures of landscapes decorated the walls.

 

   "Please wait here," the priest said. "The bishop will be with you soon."

 

   The group was silent until the door closed leaving them alone.

 

   "Soon?" Harrick commented. "That doesn't bode well."

 

   The Knightmaster carefully sat down in a chair made of blonde colored
wood and upholstered in a matching tan. "Consider this a small test of our
patience."

 

   "You were expecting this," Harrick commented in a cold tone.

 

   A nod of the head was Kenward's answer. "Some people think it necessary
to show their dominance in such little things."

 

   "And others see it as a way to unsettle an opponent before a meeting or
confrontation," Harrick added.

 

   "We're not here to confront the bishop," Kenward responded. "He is on our
side."

 

   "I'm not so sure," Harrick answered. "We thought Ammodus was a friend
too."

 

   "Good point," the knightmaster commented. "But let's not prejudge him. He
might just be like Knightmaster Huwain."

 

   Harrick turned and looked at the current Knightmaster. "Knightmaster
Huwian?"

 

   "You never knew him?" Kenward asked.

 

   "No sir," came the answer. "He retired before I took the vows."

 

   "Ah!" Kenward said with a smile. "A fine knightbrother and a great
leader. But he seemed to be physically incapable of doing anything on time.
He was always late. Regardless of how important a meeting or appointment
was. They say he was even born a week late."

 

   Harrick gave a rare smile. "Truly?"

 

   "Indeed," Kenward answered. "Finally I took to telling him the wrong
dates and times. If the ceremony was at Midday we would tell him it was at
Terce. If the meeting was on the 15th of the month. We would tell him the
14th."

 

   "Did it work?" Harrick asked.

 

   "Oh yes," The knightmaster responded with a smile.

 

   The door opened and Father Goward stepped into the room. "The bishop will
see you now."

 

 

********************

 

 

   The trees and underbrush along the side of the road was thinner than he
hopped. It provided far less cover and concealment than he would have liked.
Still, with care and skill he stayed out of sight. Usually he would move
slower and more carefully but he had to stay ahead of the group Edmund and
Terry were leading. That meant moving faster than he would have wanted but
he had a task to do. An important one. He and the members of his squad were
to warn Edmund of troubles they might run into. Things like an ambush or an
approaching army.

 

   Normal people didn't understand. Having never experienced what being an
animal was like, they just didn't know what it was like. They didn't know
how amazing the enhanced senses of smell and sound felt. In his feline body
Stealth could hear and smell things that a human just never would
experience. His enhanced sense of smell picked up the faint whiff of a human
scent. After a few moments, the feline recognized it as a man. After
traveling with this group for so long Stealth knew the scent and look of
everyone in it and this person was a stranger.

 

   He stopped and for several minutes just concentrated on his senses.
Sniffing the scents and listening to the sounds around him. The wind was
gently blowing from the southwest telling him the intruder was in that
direction. Slowly, carefully, thinking through each move before he made it.
Stealth turned to the southwest and the foreign smell grew faintly stronger.

 

   The scout scanned the forest ahead of him looking for the slightest sign
of anything that didn't belong. A branch broken the wrong way, a human
footprint or a human shape amidst the shadows.

 

   After a few minutes, he saw a branch, the end of which was bent at an odd
angle. As if something had brushed against it. Looking at the ground beneath
it. He spotted a mix of leaves and pine needles that had been disturbed. To
most people it meant nothing but to him it was a foot print.

 

  The feline looked around the print and found what he was looking for. A
second footprint a little way off and slightly beyond that - a third. Slowly
and carefully he followed the prints moving in the direction they led.

 

   His sensitive ears picked up a slight movement off to his left and he
turned in that direction. He looked intently unsure of what it could be. It
might be the other scout or it could be a wild animal. Deer, badger, rabbit
and fox inhabited this area in abundance and he didn't want to go off
chasing the wrong thing. Then he caught a faint whiff of leather and oil.
His opponent was wearing leather armor that had been oiled to preserve it in
the damp and rain.

 

   SNAP!

 

   He heard the bow release and an arrow thumped into the tree next to him.
Stealth looked at the arrow for a moment. It was still quivering from the
impact.

 

   The feline reacted instantly. His own bow came up and he loosed an arrow
in the direction the first one had come from. Stealth saw a shadow shift
among the branches of a tree. He drew, fitted and loosed another arrow
straight at the shadow.



   He was rewarded with a shout of pain. The shadow enlarged into the full
figure of a man. That man turned and started running away as fast as he
could.

 

   The feline nocked an arrow and took aim at the fleeing man but he didn't
shoot. He wanted this scout alive to answer questions. And an arrow to the
back would probably be fatal. If it didn't kill the man it would make it
harder to interrogate him. He could still learn much from a dead body but a
live prisoner could tell him a lot more.

 

   He dropped to all fours as his body shifted to its more feral form.
Stealth looked at the fleeing man and the hunter's instincts kicked in. His
claws tore into the dirt as he sprang forward. His legs were pumping and he
rocketed forward

 

   Stealth was amazed at the blinding speed as the trees and bushes flashed
by in a blur. It was exhilarating! Every part of his body; every nerve,
every muscle and instinct was built solely for speed, to catch fleeing prey.

 

   He felt the power and speed in his muscles unleashed but it wasn't raw or
blind but was controlled and channeled, his instincts guiding him with
lightning speed. The cat raced through the woods twisting and turning as he
weaved among the throng. His extra-long tail flipping left and right, acting
like a massive rudder for the speeding cheetah.

 

   The predator closed the distance between them in an instant. The man who
had been running before now seemed to be almost walking. Instinctively the
carnivore lashed out with one paw and tripped the man. The prey tumbled to
the ground in a flurry of curses and flailing limbs.

 

   The cheetah clamped his teeth around the man's arm, biting down hard. He
twisted his body and his weight and momentum sent the man flying.

 

   The man flew a good ten feet before he hit the ground. He tumbled through
the underbrush for another ten feet before he hit a tree with a solid
sounding thump.

 

   Stealth stood up and shook himself off. He held still a short distance
from the man. Outside of the reach of a swinging sword. The man's body
remained limp at the base of the tree. The cheetah could smell fresh blood
and he could hear his ragged breathing. This told the Keeper that although
wounded his prey was alive.

 

 

******************

 

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