My Dark Knight

Chapter 12

"You worthless boy! I will show you!" The man slurred as he raised his fist to pummel the young boy.

"What the devil..."

The man raised his eyes to his fist which was presently captured in another's grasp.

"I suggest you take your leave before you are forced to do so." Tristan glared coldly, his anger barely in check.

"Aye? And who are ye to be orderin' me about?"

"Your lord!" Tristan growled before landing a punch to the drunkards jaw.

The man held his jaw as he stared at Tristan with fear laced eyes. He hurriedly got to his feat, did a bow, and scurried away with his tail between his legs. Tristan watched the man's retreating form with disgust. An insistence tugging had Tristan looking down.

"Ye saved me, thank ye." The little boy said, his emerald green eyes shimmering with tears.

Tristan bent down so he was eye level with the boy.

"It's nothing to thank about, lad. Tis my duty." Tristan said gently.

"What's your name?"

"Duncan."

"Tis a nice name. Where is your mom?" Tristan asked.

"Mamma at home." The little boy, Duncan, nodded thoughtfully.

"And why are you here by yourself." Tristan questioned.

"Ehh, me father wanted to buy himself a drink. I had to make sure he didn't."

Tristan nodded solemnly before picking up the lad. Nodding at one of his men, Tristan turned with the boy in hand. He hand to control the anger which surfaced, instead of the father taking care of his son, the son had to act as the father. The boy was stripped of his youth before it even began.



"Where are we going, my lord?"

Tristan let a small smile play on his lips, making him look even more handsome than he possibly could.

"You're a curious one, aren't you. We're going to your mother."




"Yes my lord?"
Tristan turned towards Gerald, one of his men.

"Gerald, I believe Duncan and his family are the ones who just recently moved here?"

"Aye, my lord." Gerald answered.

"Did you know he was a drunk?" All though the the questioned was asked lightly, Gerald knew it was anything but. Being his first, it was his duty to make sure everything ran smoothly.

"Aye my lord, I found out this morning, I was just coming to inform you."

Tristan nodded but didn't say anything further, he couldn't let the lad see his anger. The boy in question however, was joyfully riding Tristan's shoulders, not a care in the world, smiling his first genuine smile in a long time.

Tristan came in front of the house and knocked.

A petite women opened the door. The house smelled of whiskey. The women's clothes were ripped and dirty. Tristan couldn't didn't see her face; her bruises remained unknown, for now.

"Duncan! Get down!"

Looking at the mans fine clothes, she knew he must be of status, she feared what her son might have done. She could only pray he hadn't been caught stealing. The man she was married to would stoop low enough to harm his own flesh and blood for some ale.
Tristan put Duncan down, who went towards his mother.

"Please forgive-"

"May we come in?" Tristan asked tersely. He may have versed it as a request, but his tone of voice left no room for argument, forcing the women to move aside as the two men entered. Tristan took in the small cottage. It's was very, very small as well as dark. A disgustingly foul odor emitted from the room they stood in. Tristan looked around with dark eyes, this place was in need of being fixed, therefore, no one should have been given such a place to live in, regardless of the circumstances.

"Please forgive me, Duncan-" the lady tried to apologize again.

"The lad did nothing wrong." Tristan cut off.


"What is your name?"

"Mary."

"What I would like to know is, does your husband drink often?"

"Aye." The women nodded.

"Does he beat you or the child?" Tristan made sure his face was stoic, he needed the truth, no point in sugar coating anything.

The women briefly hesitated before giving a slight, quick nod.

"Let me see the marks."

The women moved over to light a small candle, as she turned around, Tristan saw the bruises which covered her face, as well as the swelling.

"And the child?"

"Nay, I send the child away when he..." The women trailed off.

Tristan gave a tense nod before saying,

"My men will be with you shortly, do not be alarmed when they come. Pack your belongings, you will be moving into a different living area, this cottage is not suitable to be occupied."

The women merely nodded.

"Your lordship, are you making us leave?"

Looking down,Tristan offered the boy a small smile before shaking his head.
"No lad, this house is not nice, you will get a better one."

"Oh, aye. The house is nay verra nice." Pausing briefly to look around, little Duncan nodded as if agreeing with himself before turning hopeful green eyes towards Tristan, "Will ye play with me?"

"Of course, lad." Tristan said gently, " I will come by tomorrow or mayhap the day after."

Duncan gave a bright smile.

"That is not necessary, my lord." The women said hesitantly.

"I am aware it is not necessary, but with your permission, I would like to spend time with your son."


"Please mamma." Duncan begged, his eyes big and wide.

Mary nodded, not saying anything, or rather not knowing what to say or what to do, what to expect.









The walk back to his manor was a tense one. Tristan walked with Gerald by his side. Gerald risked a look towards his lord, and fear had his blood run cold. His lord was a kind person, more caring then most, but he did not attain the tittles such as the "devil" and " commander" for naught. He was a beast on the battle field. His eyes, a cold, silver flame had the strongest of men trembling before him. Some say he fought with such zealous and passion, nothing could deter him. He met death and still lived. Gerald knew he was at fault, his lordship had given him a responsibility and Gerald had failed him. His lord hated drunks, especially those who beat on those they are meant to love and protect.
Tristan nodded towards the guards and went straight to his study, not bothering to stop and greet anyone. He went and stood by the window. After briefly looking over his lands, he turned towards Gerald, and in a calm before the storm voice, asked

"You put them in the cottage?"

"Aye my lord, I should have made sure it was proper, but tis looked proper on the outside." Gerald knew that wasn't an excuse, as well as Tristan.

"Those are my people, living on my lands. They deserve to be protected and cared for." Tristan growled.

"I want you to go with several men, and make certain a home is prepared for them. Make sure the drunkard does not come near them. Is that understood?"

"Aye, my lord." Gerald bowed before leaving the room.



Tristan walked over to his desk, on the wall behind it hung a sword. He took the sword down and began to vent his anger. Tristan went to the training grounds, called one of his strongest men, while thoughts occupied his mind...


Duncan, an innocent young boy did not deserve to have to live in the shadows of that man. The first blow came from the right. The women, though they may not love each other, did not deserve to be beaten. Another blow from the left. No one should have to endure such circumstances. He blocked a blow from ahead. One can not save everyone, but he could damn well try. He barely dodged the attack to his leg. Sweat gleamed from his hair, as well as ran down his bare torso. His jaw was clenched as he side stepped his partner. How long had they had to endure this? The lad was probably six to seven summers. The sword nipped his upper arm, barely leaving a scratch before he moved out the way. She had to be with the man for at least that long. Why had she not left? Of course, most people wouldn't have left. As Tristan continued to block blow after blow, he was watching a boy, no older than six.....

"Mamma, I found-"

"I don't care what you found, leave." The women snapped, not caring for the young child.

"Papa! Ma- ahhh!" The boy cried in agony as the whip came down on his back.

"I told you not to come to my room!"

"Stupid boy does not listen." The women snapped, " no doubt like his father."

"You shut up! Ungrateful bitch." The man growled before bringing the whip down on the boys back once again. Tears trailed down his face, the blood on his back making his clothes stick. Not wanting to be punished for something he did not once more, he tried getting up before crawling out the room and clasping on the floor. Tears covered his chubby little cheeks, the spark of life missing from his eyes.







"That will be enough." Tristan looked towards the source of the voice to see Sarah standing there with a tray of food, or rather his food. Tristan looked around to see the sun had set. He hadn't noticed how much time had passed, his partner on the other hand did.

"My apologies Harold, I didn't notice the time."

"No need my lord," Harold smiled, "you have great stamina."

Tristan chuckled lightly at the mans antics, he may be one of his strongest men, but he was a joker. Tristan watched as Harold slowly walked back, Tristan had unknowingly worked him to exhaustion.

"Time to eat." Sarah said.

"I'm not hungry, Sarah."

"Not hungry me arse! Ye nay ate yesterday, and today, ye worked until sundown with ye wee sword!" Sarah huffed.
For an old women she sure had a set of lungs, Tristan mused.

"Alright, my apologies I'll eat my dinner." Tristan grumbled. He just wanted sleep.



After Sarah had made sure Tristan ate everything she had brought, Tristan retired for the night, only to be haunted by a certain sapphire eyed beauty.






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