The sun falls to the horizon as the moons light the rest of the night, the cold winds flow through the crisp air as the sound of hooves hit the ground. Fours Knights of the English ride at the night as a guardsman’s body was seen in the distance. “Fallen near,” one knight says. They race to the body, the sound of their armor and the stomping hooves startle the birds in the forest wall. The knights are horrified by the sight, a puddle of blood next to one, a gape-mouthed body with a bolt sticking out of its skull and a Joraal lying with a bolt in his chest. A knight steps off his horse to see the bodies. One knight spoke, “What do you suppose happened here, Gallingway?” his voice muffled in the helmet.
“I don’t know, but it’s obvious he killed these men.” He looked at the guards.
“We must find the owner.” A Scout spoke.
“Sir,” he pointed, “The sign.” Gallingway took a long look at the sign, a place he hoped to be treading, the fake meeting he wished to have with the owner. This was no longer a safety check on the farm, this was an investigation for the Knights and Scout.
He made a smile and said what was on the blank of wood on stilts, “Promised Farm of Higgins Estate, Bakery and Management Dealer.” He took off his helmet as the long, red feather on it tickled his cheek, he spoke with concern in his voice, “We must find the reason why this Khaja Slave was out here and why he killed these guards this far from his estate.”
“What should we do, you highness?”
“We approach him with dignity and loyalty like the rest of the Knights of the King. James!” He pointed at one Knight, “ Grab the guards and hitch them to your horse. Scout, you carry the Khaja as well.” His men carry the bodies on horseback as they race towards the estate.
Gallingway thoughts were filled with the killed men they found, curious if he lost his chance again. He pushed his horse to go faster, barreling ahead of the rest. He was concerned as those behind him tried to match his speed. He could see the Estate Gates.
A commotion arose in Gallingway’s mind, a plan of war, a war that could be won. He betrayed all his commanders, his friends, his own king he saw so corrupt. He was nervous, but determined to start a conflict, to finally show the true Red Banner. The Revolution starts, he thought.
They arrived. Two men opened the gates as the horse was lead to a hitch. “State your presence,” a man with a dark voice spoke. “We had no papers saying the king’s Knightsmen would arrive.” Gallyingway looked down to his hand, one gloved hand with a strange mark on the back of it.
“We came because of a commotion down the road by your farm. I wish to speak to the owner.”
“We don’t know of such commotion, so that’s not ours to discuss. Run off to your duties.”
“I am the second in command with the King’s Army, I can have your people put into Jail, tear down this farm and sell all the Joraal for cheap. Who is the owner?” The man clenched his gloved fist as the men beside him moved back. Steam began escape his glove. He aggressively walked towards Gallingway.
“With what had happened to your officials recently, I can hardly believe such a thing can happen at your government’s state. Go, you Red Hog, I don’t want to see you anymore.” The Knights had their hand near their sword as they waited for the gloved man to strike. Gallingway stood proud both his arms behind his back, under his red cloak.
“Carter!” a withered voice yelped. “Let this man do what he will.”
“Sir, this man is invading property without the proper papers to-”
“No need! If they are of Royal Army, they can pass by-”
“But sir, they need to abide by their own law-”
“It does not matter,” he shouted. “You heed me or you be fired, revoked, gone.”
“Yes… Sir…” he walked away in shame as his guards lead them inside.
Trophies were in display, Hogs Heads, Buck Antlers, even an old Dragon’s skull hung proudly on the wall next to the rest. The Knights took a closer look at them and saw a golden label on them, each having the same three names being referenced: Hance, Hannible and Jeremy. They enter a hallway and find pictures posted on the wall. This man must have been rich, he thought, pictures weren’t as easy to come by in a plantation of any kind. The hallway ends as they find a double door guest room. A beautiful design of branches and flowers bloom and shine on the wood of the two doors. The handle looked comfortable to hold in your hands as it created this eye-catching design of a tree branch. The Knights were never to witness the decor of the King’s Castle nor did the officials he hand appointed, it was a secret and a legend for the people to speculate his living style.
Higgins, at the door, opens it as a fireplace is lit across the room. A large fur chair beside a small table holding a bottle of whiskey and two glasses rest in front of the fire as heads of the creatures across the known lands mount the walls with great pride. As they walk inside this beautiful room, they notice portraits laying atop the fireplace, pictures of two boys and a fair man with them. He noticed what caught their eye, “Fancying yourself of my youth?”
“Parden?”
“The pictures. The only thing that can make me smile. Although… There carries a sad ending to them.”
“Age?” Gallingway responded.
“Not quite.” His smile faded as he grabbed another portrait of himself and the two boys. “You see these two fair men here?” He hands the picture to Gallyingway as the other Knights and the scout wondered to stare at the creatures.
“I do.”
“They were my sons, great boys they were. Never seemed to disappoint. They always found a way to make an angry old man like me proud.”
“What were their names?” the scout asked.
“That’s not polite there, boy.” Gallyingway shouted.
“It’s okay. I’m happy to share. The one there, holding the bow, is named Hance and the I have my hands around is named Jeremy.”
“Mind I ask-”
“Ask away, Knight.”
“What happened to them? Did they run off, leave without writing?”
“No… Once they were drafted in the war back when the damned Khaja were an unraveled mystery, they were killed and never to be seen again as men of the English Army.” He stared at Gallingway. “Since I found out of their deaths, I wanted to know who did it, what kind of people were they when they sunk a dagger in their souls.”
“Why think that?” Gallyingway said with a soft voice. “It was a war of the savages, those people fought long and hard against us, why couldn’t they have killed your sons?”
“Because it was too good to be true. Messengers told me they were missing and the only things they found were their badges and nothing else. They were apart of the Keltic Conspiracy, the battle where no man was found on either side.” He took a swig of his English Whiskey. “I gave a whole lot of money to trace their bodies. Whole lots.” Downed a quarter of his glass. “As we took the expansion outward, we found the village of Khaja. First time seeing them and we found them with graves of the our own in it. Found our men’s helms on pikes above their graves. Disrespect it was. Sold those bast**ds as slaves as we dug our own and gave them a proper burial.” He grabbed his Whiskey bottle and poured another glass for himself. The Knights and the Scout watched him with long faces, worried looks. “Do you know what we found when I came along?” He smiled. “My sons. Both buried in the ground with pikes driven in their skulls.”
“Were you furious?”
“By the gods, yes I was furious!” He raised his voice. He paused as he realized who was at his presence. “Sorry, I just have some rampant emotions. I believe I forgot my herbs today, so I may appear a bit tipsy.”
“Sure it’s not the Whiskey?” the scout whispered.
Higgins changes conversation, “So, I imagine you fine Knights in shining armor have yourselves a lot of these Khaja, eh?”
The Knights smiled as the scout cackled, “You bet this one does!” He slaps the Knight on the back.
“I do, I do. Wife loves the freetime she has.” They all laughed as Gallingway stare at the fire. He wanted no part in this conversation, he wanted nothing to do with this mindless laughter. As they made more remarks about their Joraal, a scream disturbed their cackling. “What the bloody hell was that!?” An explosion could be heard in the distance. A man rushed in slamming the door open with blood dripping down his face.
“We’re bein’ attacked! They have cannons, arrows, the whole lot of weaponry. We have to leave here, Masta Higgins.”
“Whose fight us?”
“No time, Masta. We mus’ leave to ya shelta!” Gallyingway takes off his helmet and marks it with an X with his knife and places it back on his head as he follows the guard out.
Fiery arrows fly from the forest borders as flashes from the cannons there revealed themselves in the dark horizon. Guards at the gate were trembling as they dragged men away from battle as they screamed for mercy. One with friend was laying on the floor staring, blank faced at his leg in the distance lead by a blood trail, his friend making sure he goes through fine. Houses were broken down as the wheat of Higgins’ field was burning, creating an illuminating light into the skies, drowning the stars out. Gallyingway was not fazed as the Knights and the others looked away from it, avoiding the carnage they swore to face.
“What should we do, Higgins?” The one threatening Gallingway earlier was asking for advice, orders to follow in this strange time. “The guards are thin, our arms are shortened and we are not fit for this kind of battle. What should we do?”
“Gather the Khaja and hand them weapons.”
“Sir, that’s insane!”
“There’s a reason why they’re attacking and that’s to free the Khaja, so put them in front of their crosshairs!”
“Incoming!” A guard yells as a cannonball hits the walls.
“You have no choice, Wallas! Just do as I say.” They go as he looks dumbfounded, not knowing what might become of them after this.
“You heard the man! Give the Khaja our arms!” He appointed three men to the arms shed as they grabbed armor and gear to the Joraals. Afraid and forced to fight, they all bared the likeness to a guard. They were told to fight by a few guards as they all refused.
“You cannot make us fight in such a battle!” a Joraal spoke. A guard grabbed him and stabbed him in the thigh.
“You will fight or you will put down here and now.” They all ran to the gates, arms at the ready to strike and take a life. Men watched them as they fought, making sure they did as they were told.
Gallingway ran with Higgins and the others as they past by men with crossbows and shoulder cannons. He couldn’t believe how armed this plantation was. They seemed ready to the teeth that would be in this situation. It seemed that the screams and cannon fire was farther away, safety felt granted to the Knights and Higgins. They were at the other side of the Plantation. Men coward behind the untouched soil there as men brave enough were making sure some were going to shelter.
“Have you seen Jeremy!” Higgins yelled at a nearby search party.
“He’s at the shelter alread-Argh!” An arrow hit him from the forest walls near them. “They’re flanking! They’re flanking!” Fiery arrow began to fly towards them, destroying all the huts they could. More guards flee to the shelter with Higgins as it feels like this battle is a loss to them. A whistle sounds is coming towards them as a cannonball explodes in front of Higgins and Gallingway.
A ringing deafens Gallingway as he could feel his armor embedded on his body. His helmet was gone, the ringing begins to move to his right as he tries to get up. He screams in pain. His leg is broken. He could hear the fires near him, but the ringing won’t stop. The shrapnel grazed the right side of his head, some still peaking out of his skull. Joraal in armor begin to scavenge the area in front of him as Jeremy could be seen trying to run away, but one of the scavengers catches and knocks him out near his owner’s body.
A familiar face could be seen by Gallingway. She called out to him, begging for him to answer, but the ringing stopped him from listening to her. She screamed for someone to pick him up as I stood to see wandering souls begging for a path to be lead upon, all of which lead to the void.