The Paladin: a story of Faith

The Task

Teech Servis

When the urge to wander came, Teech was cutting wood for winter. "Now?" he asked aloud, accustomed to only himself and his God for company.

A warmth of affection answered. Yes, he was to go just then.

As usual, if he was paying attention, Teech simply understood what was expected of him. He'd learned long before that paying attention to such urges usually worked to his benefit. In response, he shipped his axe and started out, walking with long strides in the direction he felt led to take. Behind him, his faithful hound bounded out of the woods and followed.

For the better part of a week, Teech walked. Born and raised in the mountains, he well knew how to find food and water for himself, how to stay warm at night in the chill, autumn air. Garbed mostly in leather, Teech was dressed for the elements- or at least, as dressed for them as he ever was. He had no qualms about dropping everything and setting out to follow his God's prompting. A life in the mountains, in the servitude of his God, had taught him to be habitually prepared for anything.

Eventually, after nearly five days of wandering, Teech felt permission to stop. He waited with his back to a tree, seated on the ground and all but invisible to the casual observer. The place where he'd stopped was on the northernmost edge of the mountains, overlooking a valley.

Down below, the remnants of a recent battle lay, spread out. The bodies of armored soldiers littered the plain. Teech could only wonder what terrible battle had been fought and why the opposing armies had chosen to fight on top of the bog when, on the far side, a roadway had been laid over far firmer ground.

One overburdened cartwheel could slice through the tangle of roots and grasses that made up the sod, leaving everyone to sink to their deaths in the sucking muck beneath. Teech had ranged this far north before, had been down to the bog. His father had brought him when Teech had been but an adolescent, needing to experience things for himself in order to learn anything.

"God, why am I here?" he asked aloud. But all that answered was the understanding that he was to wait and watch for a time.

Down below, a small band of people were stripping the dead of their armor. Teech was given to understand that he would wait for the scavengers to leave before going down to the battlefield. He didn't bother to ask why. Clearly, anyone willing to strip armor from thousands of dead, wealthy Central Valley nobles and risk the ire of their king wouldn't worry about killing one humble mountain man.

He watched the scavengers for days. They stripped armor, weapons and items of worth but left clothing behind. Finally, when they were gone, Teech roused himself and took himself down to the valley of corpses. It seemed that no one else would bury these dead, and doing so would be easy; all he had to do was cut through the sod and sink the dead in the muck.

Teech was nearly to the tree line when the vultures began circling overhead. It seemed as though there were hundreds of them in flight. As if on cue, they descended at once and began to rip into the dead. Teech had never seen the like; these birds seemed particularly vicious, as if their goal was to make as large a mess as possible of each corpse rather than simply to eat.

Teech felt, rather than heard, the cry that ripped from his throat. "Noooooo!" he screamed as he ran onto the field, shooing the birds away.

They didn't frighten easily, but then, vultures never really did. He fetched out his axe for protection from the birds, but it proved unnecessary. They started toward him of one accord, as if to drive the interloper from their feast, but when they'd come within five paces of him, they fell back, as if an invisible shield protected him from them. Startled, they tried again, with the same result.