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Druid Knight's Vows By William Black I took the vows of a Knight, of an Order long since dead. Destroyed from within, but not of light, By agreement from the head. Rounded and hounded because of greed, the foundations were easily shaken. Of such problems a Knight should be freed, By his misstep he might be taken. Now history is repeated, but mistakes can be bypassed. The mammon of Man can be cheated, By Holy honour surpassed. The Druid Knight Chapter 1, Chronicle I By William Black The Great Hall, its walls decorated with multicoloured tapestries, was very crowded. Humans and other creatures from all over Lady Morion’s realm had gathered to pay her tribute, for she was their beloved sovereign. Peace had reigned for some time since her rise to power. All held her in great esteem. The Lady herself sat on a humble throne; her features serene and noble. Four guards stationed at the four corners of the raised dais protected her. Several knights attended to her protection also. And there were many Ladies of nobility in attendance, and courtiers seemingly without number. Yet the cloaked figure wondered why such a beautiful woman known for her compassion and wisdom would require so many protectors. "No matter," he thought without concern. "I must have an audience with her." He moved swiftly and with purpose through the crowd. People moved to avoid him as if driven by more than their own self will. As he approached the dais he brought his hood further down over his eyes. Morion watched with amused interest as her knights attempted to block the intruder’s way, only to give way as if driven by an unseen force. All but the knight known as "Wind Walker". He held his ground. At this the hooded upstart raised his right arm. A loud screech echoed through the Hall as a large eagle swooped through the front entrance, gliding over the startled court, to perch itself on the ledge of the open window above the throne. Wind Walker backed away, but only a few steps, allowing the unknown visitor to pass. As the cloak figure neared his target, he slowed and removed his robe allowing it to fall to the ground. Morion looked at the man revealed. His appearance was at once youthful but aged. His eyes danced with light and there was an assurance about him that intrigued her. He wore the trappings of a knight; a scimitar his only weapon. But her interest rested on his surcoat and the device it bore. "Dear Lady," the visitor began, "I truly apologise for the abrupt intrusion into you daily affairs, but I have travelled a long way and would not be denied an audience with you." "You seem to have what you wish for," she chuckled. "Tell me your tale". "Once you allowed a stranger to pick a flower in your beautiful gardens," the knight began, "I was that stranger. At that time I noted how carefully and lovingly you tended your gardens, and how they responded to your loving touch. I knew I had found a comrade in arms, so to speak." The Lady Morion’s eyes sparkled with interest. A smile played across her lips. "To make a long story short, I am on a quest." The knight paused for the simple statement to take effect. The Lady motioned him to continue. "You see, there are other gardens, vast and beautiful, far more important than yours, which are being destroyed daily. They have no protectors such as you and your nobles. The destruction comes not only by humans, but by other forces as well. My goal is to slow, if not end, this needless devastation." At this the courtiers started to laugh. The knights, being more diplomatic, just smiled. All except Wind Walker. His eyes narrowed as if trying to pierce through the visitor’s words. The Lady Morion motioned them to silence. Her gaze bordering on anger. "And tell me, O knight most pretentious, with what shall you fight your battles? I see no shield and only an Arabian sword at your side. With what shall you battle this menace of gardens?" With that the visitor raised his left hand palm up. He slowly twisted his hand to face downward. Rich sweet smelling soil seemed to spill from nowhere. He then lifted his right hand to his mouth and blew gently, but a great wind entered the Hall. The tapestries flapped violently and the crowd let out a startled scream. The eagle screeched in protest; spreading its wings trying to maintain its balance. At this the knights and guards drew there weapons. The visitor raised his left hand and with a quick flick sent a ball of flame racing through the hall, only to have it smash harmlessly against the far wall. All stood in awe. The intruder raised his right hand and with a pouring motion water cascaded to the floor. Finally, the man brought his hands together in a loud clap. A dove appeared and flew to sit alongside the eagle. To Morion’s credit, she kept her composure. "Lady most fair, I am not without weapons, nor without friends," and he motioned towards the birds on the sill. "I see." The Lady Morion was impressed, but she had seen many things in her time. This was only sorcery. "Tell me your name." "I am William," the knight answered simply. "So William, tell me about your device," she said pointing to the visitor’s surcoat. "Why is it that you wear the Cross of Saint John on a backdrop of an oak tree? The oak is the sign of Druids!" "Lady most noble, all I can tell you at this time is that I am a Christian, but one with a history." The knight watched her with a smile. Would she condemn him out of hand? To reassure her he remarked, "I judge no one, but those who would harm that which I love and serve." The Lady smiled. "What is it that you wish of me? "Beloved Lady, I seek only to use your gardens for solitude and learning. I wish only to pass through your realm unchallenged and unhindered." "And what do I get out of it, not that I am in need of anything you understand?" "Lady Morion, I give you my pledge of honour that I will come when you wish me too. I will be at your service, as I am at the service of all those who hold the Earth in high esteem." Morion approached William and took his hands in her’s. Her warmth filled him with feelings he thought he had left far behind. "My Druid knight, you have our leave to do as you must. No man, woman, or creature will bar your way in my realm. I doubt that they could anyway," she said with a mischievous grin. "Only one thing I require of you in return. You must come back to us yearly, or send word of your whereabouts to me at this court. Do you agree with these terms?" The knight lowered his head humbly before replying. Then, raising his brown eyes to meet her gaze, he said, "Most noble of Ladies, it would be my joy to do as you require. If you need me between times, call me. I shall be at your service." "But how can I call you when I won’t know where you are," her eyes flickered with doubt. "Arrow," at this the knight pointed to the eagle, and all eyes in the hall turned towards the window, "he will know where I am at all times. Just ask him with your thoughts. Hold me in your mind. He will find me." "And what of your peaceable friend, the dove?" Morion looked quizzically back at William. "What dove?" Again he pointed to the sill. The dove was gone. The people and other creatures looked around, but found no sign of the bird. When Morion turned back to her guest, he was already heading out the door. Suddenly, as if out of space and time, a dove alighted on the receding knight’s shoulder. "Remember! Call me when you want or need me." The voice was strong and full of love as it floated back to her. Wind Walker noticed that the robe the knight had dropped on the dais was no longer there. "That man disturbs me," she said to herself, but out loud. The largest of the knights drew his sword again. "Do you want me to bring him back?!" Morion looked at the knight as if seeing him for the first time. "No," she smiled. "It is a good kind of disturbance. Leave him be, I don't want you hurt." And she allowed her mind to wonder as she walked back to the throne. The large knight breathing a heavy sigh of relief, and followed. William Black © Continues... Chronicle I, Main page |