Author Games: A Knight's Valor

Flash Challenge Entries

Cadosa Female: Momo Seafare

To people, the little girl hunched over by the baker's steps might be no one in particular. She could be a beggar, a lost child. Perhaps she'd lost her key to the baker's house, but even that was not a valid reason. First, the baker was child-less. A beggar from Cadosa would be roaming the streets with nets wrapped around their bones and skin, and a lost child wouldn't be this cheerful. They wouldn't have this faraway look, and certainly wouldn't have a smile on their small faces.

But people were people. They minded not the little girl hunched over the baker's steps. They didn't care whether she was a beggar or a lost child. And Cadosa was having another festival later that day, so they'd rather getting ready in their homes than asking the girl what had happened to her.

The child of course, did not know all these. The child had been thinking instead, Do they know about me? Do they know about my Mother? Do they even have an inkling about how I wounded up there, hunched over by the baker's steps? And she thought, with an innocent nod of her head, Perhaps they do.

Perhaps they do, she stated once again in her train of thought.

A knight is a remarkable thing.

A knight wouldn't be forgotten.

She'd been sitting there since the break of dawn, waiting for the baker to hand her her daily basket of saltwater bread. "Lovely morning, dear sir," she'd greeted that time. Monicah grinned up at the old man, the enthusiasm never quite leaving her voice as she continued, "It's my Mama's birthday today. You know her, perhaps, do you not?"

The old baker patted her little head. He gave a bark of laugh as he handed her a basket, discreetly adding two more bread for the sweet child. "I may be old, Monicah, but I won't be forgetting your mother. She comes here, too, did you know? She buys those special cinnamon buns and tucks them inside her rags. Sweet little things, the both of you are."

"Did she, really?" Monicah's tiny voice came out loud and thoughtful.

The old man stared at the girl. Obsessed isn't she, he had thought, a small smile playing on his wrinkled face. Obsessed by the thought of having a knight for a mother. He didn't leave his awkward position at his door even after five minutes, when the girl had finally stopped looking everywhere with a distant look on her face.

But then he knew the girl wouldn't be leaving any sooner.

What was she thinking? Moreover, what was she doing here still?

The sun was at its highest peak in the sky when Monicah had finally stood. She glanced at the baker's window, and even after knowing there wasn't a person behind the thing, waved and smiled, yelling a goodbye as she ran away towards her home by the shore.

"Mama!" Monicah kicked off her sandals and zoomed to the house. "Mama, I have something for you!"

Her mother glanced up from her cooking. Even if the woman was as sleepy as a drunk barman, a small yet bright laugh left her mouth. Gracing the quiet house with a melody, and making Monicah's heart flutter in adoration.

"Monicah."

"Mama, I have bread for you." Monicah was out of breath. "The fish father and I caught, have you seen them already?"

"Monicah."

"The old man wanted to say his best wishes, too. Happy birthday, Mama."

"Monicah." Her mother had knelt in front of her now, so that their gazes were level. Monicah had stopped talking, already. She gazed intently into her mother's gray-green eyes, a smile fighting its way on her lips once again. "Monicah, my darling, do you want to be a knight as well?"

And that was the start of everything.

Yes, she thought.

Yes, she said.

The next morning the little girl was at the baker's steps again. She shouted, at the top of her lungs, in front of all the people going in for a basket. And shout she did, "I'm going to be a knight!"

I'm going to be a knight.