Antony rode in the midst of the other soldiers that made up his guard. There were twelve men in all, including him and Kade.
As they rode, he talked with a few of the men. One, in particular, caught his attention: a soft-spoken man named Ben.
"Where are you from, Ben?" he asked the soldier, as they rode down a hill leading away from the last town they had passed by.
"Concord, near the border with the sea," answered Ben. "My family has lived there for several generations."
"Do you miss your family, when you're away with the army?"
"All the time, Sir," said Ben, looking a bit hesitant about admitting this. "I haven't been home to see my children and my wife in months and..." He forced a short laugh. "I'm afraid my children will have grown so I can't recognize them."
Antony suddenly felt immensely guilty, as if Ben's sadness were his own fault. He turned to face the brown-haired soldier.
"After this is through, Ben, I promise you a long leave of absense. You surely deserve it."
"Thank you, Sire," said Ben, trying his best to remain professional, even though Antony could clearly see that he was happier than he had been throughout the entire journey so far.
As they crested the next ridge, they looked down over a small farming village. Drawing nearer, they became aware of the commotion that seemed to be taking place at the village's center.
"What's going on?" he asked Ben.
"I'm not sure, Sire," answered Ben, craning his neck in an attempt to see better.
At that moment, Kade rode back from his place at the head of the line, making his way through the other guards until he was at Antony's side.
"Looters, Sire," he said. "A relatively small band, attacking the villagers for their food."
"Bullies..." muttered Ben.
Antony, Ben, and Kade, rode back to the front of the line to look down at the village.
"We're almost evenly numbered, and we have better men and weapons," Antony said, grimly, moments after seeing the looters beat a man who wouldn't give up his family's food. "We have to help them."
"Sire..." began another of the guards who had just rode up behind them.
Antony whipped Emery around to face the man.
"We will help them!" he shouted, challenging the man.
"Yes, Sir," muttered the guard, returning to his place at the end of the line.
"One condition, Antony," said Kade, sternly.
"What, Kade?" he demanded, impatiently, itching to gallop down the hill and protect the villagers.
"You ride between Ben and I at all times. You're king; they might want to harm you. We won't let that happen."
"Yes, alright! Let's go!"
Kade took his place to Antony's right while Ben rode on his left, and they charged down the hill.
For a few moments, the only sounds were the shouts of the villagers and the looters' cries of surprise.
Then, swords clashed, and the fight began.
Antony swiftly dispatched one looter, who was threatening a women attempting to protect her children after her husband had been struck down by the looters.
A large, muscular man who seemed to be in charge of the group of looters, rallied his men for a renewed charge against the knights of the royal army.
The din of clashing swords, and shields blocking strikes against their owners, rang throughout the air. Antony watched Ben strike one of the looters, knocking him unconscious. He then pulled out his crossbow, taking down a looter who was making his way towards Antony.
Antony gave him a grateful nod and pressed on, swinging his sword confidently at the looters that came forward to challenge him.
Suddenly, the battle ended; the looters retreated. A few members of the guard pursued them for a distance to ensure that they really were gone for good.
They rode back to the center of the village, where the occupants were slowly making their way out of their homes, where they had retreated at the arrival of the armed soldiers.
Antony looked around, watching the children standing by the side of the street, admiring the soldiers' horses, and the mothers who fell to their knees, thanking Kade. The men of the village bowed their heads in thanks, or shook the hand of one of the soldiers.
The soldiers milled about, taking stock of injuries, their own and those of the villagers. None of the soldiers had received severe injuries, although one of them, a man named Ross, had suffered a painful cut to the shoulder, which the designated medic who had been assigned to Antony's guard bandaged and put in a sling.
Antony dismounted his horse. He was met by a small family.
"Thank you, Sire!" said the man, his voice full of awe and gratefulness. "Our family would have starved, had your guard not stopped those looters. They've been here several times, and the soldiers in the nearest large town have done nothing about it."
"I assure you, I will see that they are punished for their negligence. It is their responsibility to ensure the safety of your village, and if they have not been doing so, that will have to be changed."
"Thank you, Sire," said the man, again, inclining his head. His two children peered out from behind him, their expressions curious.
"These are your children?" he inquired of the man.
"Yes, Sir. This is my eldest son, William, and my daughter, Kirsten. And my wife, Serena."
"Pleased to meet you," he said, smiling. William, a boy of about eight, was looking at Antony's sword, now returned to its sheath, with undisguised awe and curiosity.
Antony laughed slightly, and pulled the sword out, kneeling before the boy and holding it out to him.
"Careful," he warned the excited boy, as he held the weapon for a few moments, holding it up experimentally. Antony stood, still watching the boy whose name was the same as his father's.
"Thank you, Sire, for everything you have done..."
The man was cut off by his wife's scream. Antony whipped around, his hand immediately going to his side, where his sword usually was, only to remember that William still had it. Antony was left unable to reach for it, or risk being shot by the looter who still remained.
Antony recognized him as the man that Ben had knocked unconscious. He was now advancing slowly towards Antony, his eyes wild and his handbow pointed directly at the king. Antony held his ground, standing in front of the villager and his family.
"Drop your weapon!" he ordered the looter, whose eyes were darting to the left and then to the right, wild with fear.
"Sire!" Antony heard Kade call.
Time seemed to stand still. Just as the archer loosed his arrow, Ben lunged in front of the king. The villager's children cried out as he fell to his knees.
Seeing Ben kneeling on the ground brought a hot rush of anger to the forefront of Antony's mind and, as the looter took off in a mad dash to get away, Antony yanked Ben's crossbow from his motionless hands and took aim, loosing a shot that met its mark, straight into the retreating man's back, between his shoulder blades.
He fell, face first in the dirt, and moved no more.
Antony turned. The villagers had retreated back into their homes, and the man who had been talking to Antony had drawn his children away, William leaving Antony's sword in the grass by the side of the dirt road.
Antony rushed to Ben, reaching the fallen man before anyone else. He fell to his knees beside him, and, placing an arm beneath Ben's head, eased him down until he was lying on the ground, his head propped up only by Antony's hand.
"Ben!" he said, panicked. He watched Ben's eyes focus on him, and saw the soldier smile weakly up at him.
"Sire..." he managed to say, before coughing, his hand going automatically to the arrow that was embedded in his stomach.
"You...saved my life," said Antony, his head spinning. "You can't die! You can't give your life for me!"
Ben managed a smile, that ended up looking more like a grimace. "It doesn't look like you have a say in the matter, Sire."
Antony was speechless, his face a mask of sadness and grief, over this man that he barely knew, this man who had been willing to give his life to save his.
Antony quickly ripped the edge of his tunic and held it to the wound the arrow had made in Ben's stomach, pressing it into the puncture, attempting in vain to stop the bleeding.
He felt Ben push his hands away feebly.
"Don't, Sire," he said, his voice weak. "It's no good."
Antony tried again, but Ben just grabbed his hand, now wet with Ben's own blood.
"It's alright, Sire. Just promise me something...two... things." Ben coughed again, a gurgling cough, and his eyes went out of focus for a moment, only to come back to focus on Antony moments later.
"Anything."
"My...family. Make sure they're taken care of, please, Sire."
"Ben, you've saved my life! You deserve to call me by my name; forget the titles. Of course! Of course I will make sure your family has everything they have need of. Anything they want, anything it's in my power to give them. I swear."
Ben managed a smile. "Just one more thing."
"Yes?"
"Promise me you'll be a good king...That my sacrifice won't be in vain. Promise me...Antony."
"I will do my best to be a king that you would be proud of, Ben." He stopped, feeling his voice breaking.
"Good..." Said Ben, his voice fading. He began to shudder, his hands going to the wound in his stomach. Antony grasped his hand, slick with blood, and held on tight, still holding his head up with his other hand.
Ben's eyes focused on Antony's face.
"I'm...scared...Sire...Antony," he said, his words slurred, his voice fading.
"It'll be...alright, Ben. You'll be fine."
"Thank you...Antony...for everything. Take care of my family."
"I will. I promise, I will."
Ben managed a smile, and then Antony felt his shuddering stop and the soldier was still.
Antony gently laid Ben's head to the ground, his mind numb and his actions seeming not his own.
Kade knelt to the ground and closed Ben's eyes, meeting Antony's gaze briefly.
"Why did he do it?" muttered Antony, as he stood at Kade's urging. Then, more strongly. "What made this man give his life for me!"
"It was his sworn duty, as your guard, to protect you. He knew the risks."
"It doesn't seem fair," muttered Antony. "That he should die for me." He looked down at his hands, red with Ben's drying blood. He clenched them at his sides, then looked ahead of him.
"See to it that he is buried, Kade," he ordered, and then marched to the assembled members of his guard, mounted Emery, and rode of down the street, needing to clear his head, and knowing he was angry enough to kill anyone who attempted to harm him.