The Great Escape

Chapter- 11

The tip of the quill scratched against the parchment. The strokes of wet black ink curved into letters and words. The paper glowed yellow from the light of the oil lamp. An ink pot sat silently beside it, it's rim smudged with dry ink.

A white bedsheet was sprawled on the marble floor and above it, Lady Kiara adjusted herself ever so often to be comfortable. Scratching the tip of her nose, she scrunched her brows in concentration as she wrote the letter. Beside her, a neat stack of blank papers waited for their turn to be stained. On the left, beside the nightstand, the letters were left to dry.

Eight written, one more to go.

Cracking her knuckles, she picked up the quill again and dipped it in the ink.

Dear Mr Brown,

I write this letter to you with a heavy heart. Your young grandson has passed away. It is hard to believe and even harder to suffer. I can not dare imagine the pain your soul must be bearing at this moment.

Ralph was the strongest soldier I had met. He was young, determined and tactical. Eager to correct his mistakes and even more to aid his juniors and colleagues. A through and thorough knight, a true savior.

I still remember the first time I met him. It was around three years ago when he had been selected for Knight training. Barely over five foot and some four inches, the helmet was too big for his small head. For all those who jested about his small stature were forced to shut up when his limbs suddenly experienced an immense spurt of growth just a month later. My guess is this is common among boys— growing out of nowhere.

The trainers always praised him. My frequent visits also allowed me to spar with him a few times and it was always a good match. And as good as he was as a soldier, he was an even better human.

After passing the qualifying tests last year, he was under my command in a mission three - four months ago. He told me one night, prior to an important expedition, how he wanted to open a shelter for sick animals once he retires from the knighthood with much more coins jiggling in his pockets. After that, we all teased him for possibly abandoning his comrades for the horses. But our hearts always knew he had dreams higher than the sky and heart bigger than the sea.

For such comrade to leave us, the pain shatters me. But then, I reminisce Ralph and his memories. They leave me brimming with pride.

The handful of missions in which I had the opportunity to see your courageous grandson in action, he never once faltered, even in the face of death.

I did not see what happened, I do not know what happened. Not at this moment, at least. However, there are two things I can assure you. First, your grandson fought bravely. He was not the kind who would accept death because it was peering down at him ominously. He had glared back. Cornered it. Fought tooth and nail with the ill fate. Victory— he might not have achieved that— but he went down with valor and dignity.

Second— whoever is the culprit, the person will be caught and hanged. It is a promise I make. Not as your grandson's superior, not as the member of Douglas County. This is a promise I have made as a granddaughter would make to her grandfather, a comrade would make to the kin of a fallen one. I shall find the sinner who snatched away the life of my brother and punish him for his sin.

The—

Someone knocked at the window.

Kiara turned her head to see a familiar cloaked figure perched at the tree branch outside the room.

Sighing, she closed the lid of the ink pot and rested the quill in a box. Pushing the handle, she opened it slightly, only enough to slip her head out. She asked, "Who is this?"