As the mighty sword was coming down, aimed at the bald head of Craven, there came a mighty feminine scream that startled everyone in attendance to the public execution. Even the cruel king hesitated and held tight the sword from falling on the victims head.
"Nobody ever interrupts the king from cleansing the land," the king said in a trembling voice, evident with habitual melancholy.
"He's my husband my king," the woman begged as she came forward. "Don't kill him. I'll join the army in his stead."
Everyone was perplexed by the brevity of that woman. She was young and blossoming with beauty, everyone wondered how such a beauty had fallen into the hands of a coward.
"He doesn't deserve her," women were heard mammuring.
Others were asking how on earth did he even woe her. How traitorous the world becomes when we get in trouble, how disloyal even friends turn, how even colleagues abandon us the moment we need them to help us, we become a liability and they forget all the good we ever did to them.
The king with an ominous gaze beckoned the lady to come forward. Everyone knew it was over; neither the woman nor the prisoner would see the dawn of the morrow and it was only a magic turn of wonders that could alter the inevitable. The king stood back on the stone and yelled.
"A man was herding his flock and behold a wolf pounced on one of his fattest rams and disappeared into the thicket. The herder, deranged, drew his weaponry to pursue the enemy but on tracking the beast saw yonder a streak of blood—an animal drawing another away—then he knew the poor ram was no more, and it was hence meaningless to keep tracking. His conscience was but then put in a great test; to either give up the chase, wail a little for the loss and take care of the remaining flock or to give priority to his anger and chase on the shameless wolf and risk putting his larger flock at stake. And behold in his dilemma appeared an old man dressed in a white robe. Too big and unbefitting to the old man was the robe. 'he must have borrowed it,' he said to himself.
"What are you?,"asked the aggravated herder.
"what significance does what I am hold when your anger has clouded your vision of what I have brought you?" the monkish old man answered him wittily.
Instantly the shawl of the monkish old man was flapped by the wind and behind the monk stood another majestic ram, fatty and healthier than the devoured one."
The people were perplexed by king Ivan's behavior that day, for he seemed more of a prudent king. But then he changed all of a sudden and his face was conspicuous with frown lines, and he drew his sword once again and aimed it at Craven and the people realized it must have been an absolute foolery. What was about to happen was just expected of the king, for he had never forgiven anyone, not even the petty offenders. King Ivan Edmund was known for his one phrase 'Forgiviness breeds ignorance, and ignorance breeds anarchy thereupon—thou shall not forgive.'
Ivan released the sword and a great clash was heard, as the razor sharp blade cut through. To the contrary of people's expectations, Craven was a free man once again. And the king decreed, "This man is today pardoned and no man shall lay on him his hands, for he will be breaching my order. Such a man shall die by the axe!"
From that day, wherever King Ivan went, Abhita Bender followed and his cowardly husband, Craven, would later disappear mysteriously, never to be seen again in the kingdom of Agatonia. Some said the king went against his own order and executed him, others that he exiled himself in fear of the king revoking his pardon on him and others said that he retreated to the great mountains of Venom wells in solitude and gouged his eyes in agony that the king had taken his wife,but there was no one who knew were craven had gone, for there were many myths surrounding his disappearance as it is with people who have won the concern of the public; they become unfathomable gods and are reverend, they become mystical creatures in turn, living as the gods they are while treading on the earth we live in.
***
Knight rolled in his bed, reluctant in opening his eyes. He felt like it was not yet morning but the lively chattering of birds in the yard and the entire neighborhood were a prove that it was really in the morning. He opened his eyes and was met by the sharp rays of light that sneaked into the cottage through the creaks in the window. He woke up, got out of the bed and walked lazily to the window. He was so hungry and tired since the heavy drinking that had taken place in his grandfathers tavern yesterday. He was so emotionally down that he lost control of his honor. The wine, though it for a while had rubbed off the ugly fortuity of separation that sneeringly looked at him, it also seized his mental faculties and made him a baby, totally strayed from the code of the knights-that of taking a total control of his judgement.
Just as he unshuttered the only window in his bedroom, and the skin-soothing heat of the morning sun sent a warm caressing feeling on his dump body, the door to his bedroom was also opened but gently. He at first was startled but to his relief an Old man stepped inside.
"Good day son, you slept with the door unlocked,"the old man revealed, with a smile on his face.
"My bad, the brew completely took over me," knight said. He too with a smile.
They all headed to the living room for breakfast. Which ofcourse Adams, always an early riser since the days of his youth. Even in the childhood days of Nova–Knight's late father– he would wake up at six and would be plaintiful that he had overslept.
Knight grabbed his cup of tea and drew it closer and then drew the bread too, then ate ravenously so that crunch sounds filled the dinning room. Adams seemed concerned and he interrupted the avid Knight
"A bit gently son," he said. "A gentleman shall not show his hunger openly lest he becomes a laughing stock to women."
"Hunger has limits gramps, it's like a decease–hide it and rot from inside– the earlier you show it, the better," said knight at last swallowing a lump of the bread, then soothing the choke of the bread with a deep sip of the aromatic tea. The old man just smiled at him and Knight added jokingly. "You can conceal hunger but you can't hide the boniness they say."
Just as they were done with breakfast they got into the delicate matter again.
"How will I take the news to her gramps?" knight asked, a sign of desperation in his voice.
"You must be strong son. You have to stand up to the task. Now get up and get dressed like a king, staying here any longer will only worsen your situation. Once she gets the news that you came home and never considered to give her a visit—"
"But the news alone will make her hate me," knight interjected.
Adams managed to bolster his grandchild's confidence all the same and in a short while, at the main door of the family cottage, there emerged two majestic figures. One of the figures utterly stood out from the other, clad with decorative long, flowing gown with tight-fitted sleeves and a velvet. On his head was a plumed embroidered cap. How good-looking and handsome the gentleman was that his confidence came back to him just by merely looking at himself. He possibly must have fallen in love with his beauty that he stood there stationarily while contemplating on his own beauty like the Greek gentleman called Narcissus who refused to love anybody, and eventually fell in love with his own reflection in a pool of water, lores add to the story that he stared at it for the remainder of his life and after he died, in his place sprouted a flower bearing his name.
"Let's get going son," Adams said as he led the way to the courtyard. Specifically heading to the stables where his horse and Adira were, just fifteen feet from from where they were.
When they got there, Knight was treading ahead of his grandfather.
"Wait a minute my grandchild," Adams requested.
"What's up grandpa?" Knight asked considerately, not knowing what his grandfather was up to this time.
"You know my son, love is one thing that has gotten physicians and even philosophers scratching their heads trying to understand what it is yet they still can't. It puzzles me to think how possible it is to make a device that can study the moon which is very far away from here, yet it has proved impossible to to study something wich has lived with us since time immemorial," the old man said looking at Knight in the eye hoping that he understood his words.
Knight looked at him too for he knew his old man very well, this was his habit of talking when he tried to pass out something important and so he tried to be attentive.
"In our days," the old man continued after a short pause, "we would take our girls to parties, every man with his lover and if a man failed to show up to pick his girl in such an occasion, woe to him for it was over or there would be many questions for him to answer as well as many appeasements to make— for women easily make conclusions when they feel like your heart is not with them you know what I mean."
"Very true gramps," said Knight pretending to understand what was being said.
"Very well, very well, now that you know that, it should not be funny to you for the beautiful girl to conclude that she doesn't matter anymore when she hears of your presence—she already might have— you know women and gossip are like dogs and fleas in this town," Adams said frankly.
Dipping his hands into his drawstring leather pouch, Adams rummaged through the small gems the pouch contained and there was an intense clinking and tinkling as the tiny and medium sized gems bumped and jolted on each other. He surely had not touched that pouch for decades since the demise of his beloved wife, he actually swore never to open it the day he laid her to rest. That's the day he felt like the world had cursed him to suffer for all the days he lived in it.
So the pouch had really aged and had a blackened tinge, with partially rubbed cobwebs since others had proven unpluckable.
After a short search he got hold of what he was looking for, he then fished out a beautiful jewel. It was a beautiful necklace with platinum links, the majestic diamond shined in the mid-morning sun as Adams extended the jewel to Knight.
"This belonged to your grandma," he said in a low tone, his white lashed eyes becoming teary and the wrinkles on his face intensifying.
"It's okay gramps, Knight consoled his grandfather and took the necklace.
"It's on your hands now son, give it to her, maybe it may work wonders for you," said the old man.
"Good day grandpa," Knight said as he mounted his horse.
"Good luck with your endeavor son," Adams said waving his hand to bid Knight goodbye.
Knight rode out of the compound with determination. There was only one tough task ahead of him now; going to his lover and breaking the ne
ws then seeing her sob in pain of what was about to happen to them.