"Blessed is the farmer who toils all day,
Who works till dusk without thought of play."
The words played in Drake's mind, corporeal, he heard them, but he knew they weren't said out loud. His world was dark, he could feel his body, and his body hurt. His breath hurt as his lungs came against his broken rib. He could feel his limbs being moved roughly, but he wasn't in control of them.
"Blessed is the farmer who breaks the hard land,
With strong arms, muscled back and calloused hand."
That same voice inside his head, it had a musical quality to it, a motherly intonation that he couldn't place.
"Should we just leave 'im to die?" That voice belonged to someone outside his mind, he didn't know who and he couldn't open his eyes to see, but it was rough and unfriendly. Why was it so unfriendly?
"Oh, he'll die alright, we'll string him up next to his bitch, he was so keen on reaching her before" a second voice replied, that one sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. Were they talking about him? Drake's head hummed in pain, his thoughts came slowly, like he was pulling a wagon wheel out of the muddy clay of the back pasture.
"Blessed is his family who helps in his labor,
They work as one to make the farm greater."
That voice in his head again, he must have had too much to drink the night before and was hearing things, but where was his family? He felt his arms being lifted and groaned against his broken collarbone.
"Oi! Give us a hand, he ain't no wench that can be tossed about! He must weigh as much as a horse!" Drake felt more hands on his arms. He managed to open his eyes slightly, his vision blurry from blood and tears. His head lolled to one side, and he caught a glimpse into the stone doorway of the farmyards wall, the gate was busted open. Why was it open? Had Mathew tried to herd the goats with Daisy again? He could see his little shrine sitting just inside, untouched. He tried to give his head a shake, was the interior of the shrine glowing?
"Trying to wake up huh? You're a tough bastard, not many even survive a blow from Lewdric, but can't have you making trouble now!" something hit him between the eyes and Drake's vision blew into black and stars again. He wasn't knocked unconscious this time, but he shut his eyes tight against the pain.
"But cursed be he who comes to steal,
Who takes from the farmer without care or feel.
Cursed be the one who sneaks in the night,
Who comes to kill while the family sleeps tight."
There was the unspoken voice in his head again, only now it carried a frozen knife's edge to its formless tone.
"Drake Drascal, do you hear me?" the voice spoke directly into his head. It must be the blows he took to his head; he was hallucinating. His feet were scraping the ground now, he was being carried somewhere.
"DO YOU HEAR ME DRAKE DRASCAL?" the voice boomed inside his skull reverberating around the bone. He gave an involuntary flinch. He recognized that tone, he was in trouble for something.
"Now, now, just go easily big man" one of the men carrying him misinterpreted his flinch for resistance.
"ANSWER ME DRAKE, THERE ISN'T MUCH TIME." the words shouted into his head again, he was in trouble all right. That was the tone Mae used when he forgot to do something she had told him to do several times already.
YOU ARE READING
Paladin of the Peaceful Lady
FantasyDrake had put adventuring behind him, now living with his family on his own farmstead he would be torn away and thrust back into a life he had thought he had left behind.
