The Sword of Stone - Sworn Honours

Chapter 4: Leaves of Gold

In the morning, after breaking their fast with the servants - it was clear to Rolan that the supper shared the night before was only a courtesy and that this baron wanted them gone. He thought: A paladin mustn't overstay his welcome in a lord's grace.  

Rolan waited for Lucan to gather their mounts at the outer bailey; as he did, he spotted a man wearing a bloody brown butcher apron, skinning a deer on a table and carving it carefully. Perhaps this one knows the direction towards these ruins, he pondered, approaching. The baron's directions weren't clear enough for Rolan to trust, especially about the local settlements within the redwoods. 

The pungent smell of the deer's corpse slithered into his nose as he neared. The butcher heard him before he saw him, his armour clattering with each step. 'Sir knight,' he stopped what he was doing, took his tight leather cap off and bowed humbly. His face was a light bronze from all his time out in the sun, and his eyes were brown and dry. 'How might I be of service?'

'My duties take me towards the ruins of Tem; I hear they're deep in the woods. I assumed you would know the forest better than most?' he asked kindly.

'Sir paladin, you honour me,' he said humbly. A struggle of thought crossed his face before he replied. 'I fear I may not be of much assistance, sir. My duties never drive me too far into the forests. However, I could give you general directions to a group of trappers who occasionally pass through going deeper into the redwoods around those ruins. If it pleases you.'

 'I would be grateful,' the knight told him. He turned his head, seeing Lucan approach from the stables, clutching the reins of their mounts and leading them over to the knight. The butcher gave the directions, describing the details as best he could before Rolan and Lucan set off, going through the rising gate and into the inner town, where they travelled back through the streets, the smells from before returning. 

Descending the curvy hill into the outer part of the town, a square made four partings: towards the keep, south following the river, east from where they came, and west towards the bridge crossing over to the redwoods. Rolan and Lucan made quick stops in the town's markets, grabbing provisions: bread, salted meat, dried salmon, new pots from the ones Lucan broke back in the hamlet, and feed for the horses. Before leaving, they drew water from the town well into their flasks.

They were crossing the stony bridge and following the path into the redwoods, going past the first set of trees, which were smaller nearer the river. But as they continued, the trees seemed to grow taller, the base thicker and more uniform as they pressed on. Some trees were bulgier, with their roots sticking out like vines colonizing the ground around them, intruding along the path and interlinking with one another, occasionally having to steer their mounts around carefully so as not to trip them over. Rolan found one saving grace in these woods and that was the temperate climate within, the leaves above them shielded them like a ceiling of a palace. 

The sunlight reflected the leave's colours: a reddish hue with an autumn glow of gold lined with that amber touch, a majestic glow of beauty around them. It was darker yet more pleasing to the eyes. However, Rolan didn't let himself get distracted by it, unlike Lucan, who looked around with eyes wide and wondering. 

'You haven't seen anything like this before, have you?' Rolan asked the boy, keeping his wits about him. 

'Never, sir. Not even my house's lands have such beauty,' the boy said thoughtfully.

Rolan glanced curiously. 'Do you remember much back then?'

'Bits and pieces. The last thing I remember was going through the forests of Evernan with my father and another lord marking trees. Though I couldn't tell what for,' Lucan looked at Rolan, curious. 'What about yourself, sir? What was your life like before you joined the order?'

Rolan noted the surroundings, remembered the butcher's directions, and guided his horse left through a narrow passage of trees. 'I never joined. I do not know of life outside of the order. My only family was that of the paladins who raised me.'

They had to duck under a large piece of wood protruding from a trunk and connecting with another tree. 'What about your family? Your real one? Have you ever found out who they were?' 

Often, he wondered about that and who his father and mother might have been. Yet, the many years of his life have made him care less and less about it. 'They could've been kings, they could've been lowlife criminals. I don't know, I don't care. I was barely a year old when the order took me in, and I wouldn't ask the father to change that. This life brings rewards beyond simple things like glory and wealth.' 

'What about love?' 

Rolan smirked at that and glanced at his young squire. 'There is much love within the order, lad. For without love, the world would be much darker.'

Lucan looked on ahead, thoughtful of their conversation. However, Rolan began to focus as they entered the less descriptive parts of the wood. Now, it was darker, more blood red, making the closing trees more sinister. It brought an eerie tingle to his spine, and he felt gentle chills going through his arms. Yet the knight kept his cool and maintained a stoic posture. Lucan was less on edge than the paladin as he continued to gawk wonderfully at the trees.

They came across their first community. A small hamlet - if one could call it that - sat near a small hill, under a levelled piece of ground without trees. There were large swaths of the mountain dug up in round little holes, with miners near it, collecting the amber off shovels and dumping them into nearby crates, which the children of the hamlet ferried to the storage sheds dotted around the settlement. Rolan looked up, hearing movement, and saw a watchtower built around a tree, with archers standing peaking through the murder holes with suspicious eyes.

Nearing the settlement, an old lady approached wearing a thin linen dress and a round pointed hat, much like that of the witches in fairy tale stories. Yet most of the time, this meant they were healers. Rolan knew just by the haggard face of this woman that she was someone of importance.

'State your business, then begone,' she said with a crude-thick accent.

'You will address the paladin as sir,' Lucan regarded her coldly. The boy seemed on edge when she approached.

'This yapping creature talk for you, Sir?' she glared at Lucan with suspicion.   

'No, he does not,' Rolan said, glancing at Lucan with a chiden look. 'I come seeking the ruins of Tem. I was told that there would be trappers near this settlement of yours. Tell me where they are, and we'll be gone.'

She was standoffish, looking at the two men like they were plotting to kill her and the rest of the settlement. 'They left a few hours ago; I imagine they won't be back till after nightfall.'

How could one tell when such a time comes? He pondered, looking up into the little open bits of branches that left little for light to pass. 'My thanks. We shall wait for them outside your settlement. Be sure to tell them of us and that we wish to talk to them.'

Rolan tugged at the reins gently, turning the horse around before trodding away from the settlement. Lucan followed clumsily close and tried to get Rolan's ear. 'Isn't that a witch?' he whispered.

'A healer, simple as that boy. And need I remind you that there are such times as when silence suits you? Then was one,' Rolan said.

'She should've addressed you---'

'These people barely see sunlight,' Rolan stopped him before he could start. 'Most of them wouldn't know what a knight is, let alone a paladin. Bare in mind, boy, we serve the crown and its people; it is our duty not to judge them but to defend them against forces beyond their knowing.' Lucan's face turned blue with regret, trying to hide it from the paladin. Rolan sighed. 'Think before you speak, that is all I'm saying. Do not jump to conclusions, and be mindful of arrogance.'

Lucan nodded sheepishly. 

'Sir!' the lady shouted at them. Rolan stopped and looked at her side as she approached. 'We may not be as upholding of the customs you hold, yet we understand hospitality. Please, I invite you to sup with us.'

'You don't have to do that,' Rolan told her kindly.

'Allow us it; I do not wish you to think we savage, sir,' she bowed her head slightly. 

Hesitantly, Rolan agreed: 'You have my thanks.'