Darkness Rising 1 - Chained

Chapter 12; Defiance

Sir Unhert did not reply.

They landed for lunch by the side of a small stream. Sir Robert took his short bow and shot three wild deer for consumption by the griffons and the knights. The three prisoners sat on the banks of the stream, enjoying the warmth of the sun on their necks and the relief from the constant gripping of the saddle with their thighs.

Emelia felt grubby and unclean and looked longingly at the cool water of the beck.

“I’d give anything for a dip in the water,” Emelia said.

“I thought you couldn’t swim?” Hunor said.

“Oh I’m certain you’d save me.”

Hunor winked at her then turned to Jem.

“How are you coping with the griminess of our current predicament, mate?”

Jem was sullen, staring at the glittering stream, his mind evidently preoccupied.

***

The two children had almost entered the temporary camp before Sir Unhert spotted them. He leapt to his feet and called Lady Orla, as Ekra-Hurr pulled his hood tighter and eased under the cover of a riverside tree.

The children were perhaps eight and six and dressed in muddied clothes. They both had fair hair with bulbous noses and ruddy cheeks. The eldest child was a girl and she looked with awe at the tall Sir Unhert and began to speak to him.

Unhert looked bewildered and turned to Minrik and Orla, who approached. “Captain, they are speaking some bizarre dialect.”

“There was I thinking that all Nurolia spoke Imperial,” Minrik said. “Perhaps only the civilised parts eh, peasant?”

The girl smiled warily at him. Her younger companion clutched a bundle to his chest.

Orla tried to smile at the two children. “Let us try to be amiable, Sir Minrik. We don’t want to draw any unwelcome attention to our passage. Last thing we need is a running battle with the Goldorian Inquisition.”

“As you wish,” Minrik said.

The miserable knight sighed and turned to the children. Rolling his eyes he spoke slowly and very loudly. “Hel-lo, I am a kn-ight fr-om ov-er the blue sea. Can you un-der-stand me litt-le peasant?”

The girl smiled nervously and replied once more in her own language.

Minrik went a light purple and reached for the bundle the small boy carried. The child immediately burst into tears and began to wail. Orla scowled at Minrik and turned to Unhert, who shrugged. It was then she noticed that on the far bank of the river there was an audience of perhaps twenty farmers, stood impassively observing them. They carried a range of heavy farming tools.

The knights exchanged concerned glances.

“They are speaking to you in Old Goldorian. The girl has asked ‘where are you from?’ and introduced her and her brother,” Jem said.

The three knights looked at him in surprise. Orla paused for a second to contemplate then asked, “Can you speak their tongue then?”

Jem arose awkwardly from the riverbank, his hands bound behind his back.

“Quite obviously I do, Lady Orla. If I were to use my Wild-magic then I could ensure you could also understand, but clearly that is not an option. However, I fear if you allow your Eerian specialist in tact and diplomacy to harass these children further you may find two dozen angry farmers trying to toast the sheen off your exquisite armour.”