Greenwood Knight

Chapter 12

"The day is won! They flee!"

"Let us ride after them and cut them all down. Let the kingdom know to fear our King's might."

"Nay!" Erec bellowed. "Stay your hand. Look around you man! Is not the carnage littering the fields enough for you?"

"I will do as you say—my lord—but I do not agree with your policy of mercy. The king shall hear of it!"

"Yes, Sir Robert, he shall! For I shall tell him."

"He ordered us to route the mercenaries—to show the enemy the folly of pressing force against our king—to show the strength of our army and our king. You let them flee. They will regroup, send for reinforcements and they will be harder to fight when next we meet because they will know our stratagems and our weakness."

"The men who flee are peasants. The knights and trained soldiers lay strewn about you. In this kingdom, they are a superstitious lot. They will return to their villages and shall say that we were like ants up on the field for our numbers. They shall say that that we advanced like a wall of water drowning all in our path."

"Do you really believe this nonsense?"

As though Sir Robert had not spoken, Erec went on. "They shall speak of our might, our strength—and our mercy. Never again shall one lift up arms against us—only upon the pain of death. They shall fear our wrath if they scorn our mercy and rise against us."

"So, you say; but we shall see who the king would rather believe. And then we shall see who the fool is."

"You are mistaken if you believe that I think you a fool. You have shown strength and bravery today. Both excellent qualities in a knight. I only remind you, Sir Robert, that mercy is also a quality of a good knight.

In response, Sir Robert growled and turned away to join his men as they searched the corpses in the field. Erec watched him go, and sadly reflected on this last part of war. After a battle, the victors would collect weapons, armor, and anything of value upon the corpses as spoils.

If any were found to be breathing still, they were mercifully put to the sword, rather than allowed to die a slow, lingering and painful death. It was difficult, but he knew it the right thing to do. Prisoners were only taken when the enemy surrendered, or upon the very rare occasion when a soldier was found alive with non-mortal wounds, yet unable to flee with the retreating army.

"Milord."

"Lieutenant." Erec growled, still lost in his unpleasant thoughts.

"Three of their number were found that shall survive their injuries. Shall I bind them?"

"Nay. We are too far from the garrison. I have no wish to bring three more enemies among us."

"Shall they be executed, milord?"

"Never!" Erec barked, surprised at the suggestion. Clarifying, he added: "Seize their weapons and their armor. Treat their injuries and secure oaths to never rise against our king again. Let them go so they may carry the word that our king possesses great strength but also mercy."

"Very wise of you." Drew smirked.

"Get gone with you." Erec growled before turning his mount for their camp. He had a report to write.

So engrossed was he in his reports that sunlight faded without notice. A young squire came in quietly, lit the candles, and left unnoticed. It was sometime after dark, when Drew arrived with a tray of food that Erec finally looked up. Setting aside his quill and flexing his hand, he stood to greet his friend and lieutenant.