The Prince's Thief

9. Enduring Elyhas

" Elyhas, as much as we all enjoy your sense of humour, perhaps you would allow us to enjoy your silence for a few moments." William joked, throwing a pinecone at Elyhas, who had yet to stop talking.

" I'm only trying to keep Faye awake." Elyhas protested.

" I think, Elyhas, that despite your best intentions, your words have a tendency to put me to sleep rather than keep me awake." I teased gently, wincing in pain as I shifted my position.

" Perhaps we should let Faye rest. I don't imagine her wounds will heal any faster should she become exhausted, Elyhas." Arthur joked.

" I'm feeling much better." I lied. Truthfully, I almost felt worse than I had three days ago when I had first been injured.

" Elyhas, William, Damian, why don't you three see if you can find something fresh to eat?" Arthur ordered, and the three stood, disappearing into the woods. Arthur came and sat next to me, close enough that his arm brushed against mine. I felt myself stiffen, my body become rigid, and my pain grew more intense.

" I can tell when you are lying, Faye. You might do well to remember that. You aren't feeling any better, are you?" Arthur asked, and I looked down, my muscles relaxing.

" No, Milord."

" You needn't lie to me, Faye. I won't think any less of you for admitting you feel your injuries the same as any other. I won't think you weak. You have already proved yourself. Even the bravest knight in Calber would not have dared by themselves what you have already done. If you are not yet well enough to travel, you should say so." Arthur spoke softly, and I looked up at him.

" The wounds are healing, Sire. I feel them, yes, but I am well enough to travel. I hope you don't mind my saying so, Sire, but you are wrong. I haven't proved myself. I likely never shall to many, despite what I accomplish. I am a woman, Sire, and that means that I shall never be able to stop proving myself, for the moment I do, all that will be said was that I was not capable of something because I am not a man, but a woman. It is quite different for you and I, Milord. And yet, in some ways, I expect it is the same, for you are to be king one day, and that also means you must continue to prove yourself, does it not?" I murmured.

" I would not have expected the daughter of an armorer to understand such things. That said, I also would not have expected a girl to have such skill with a bow and sword." Arthur commented.

" I think you would be surprised to find that people are not so different from one another, Milord. Of course, there are good people and bad, but at the root of it, I believe everybody has similar wishes at heart. To be happy, to be loved, to be valued, to be accepted." Arthur seemed to think on these words for some time, and was quiet for most of the night.

~~~~~Twelve Days Later~~~~~

The journey home was nearly over, and though my wounds still pained me, neither I nor any other had received an injury since our depart. In fact, it had been relatively uneventful. Despite Calber being in view, it seemed as though it were farther away than it had been two days ago. Nevertheless, we were not far from the gates of Calber now, and I was both happy to be returning home, and petrified to see what might have happened whilst we were away. I was worried about what may have happened to Tristan, as well as for my father. Sickness spread easily in the winter months, and though my father was not old, he was not young anymore either. I only hoped I would find the people most important to me in good health, alive and well.

I could barely breathe as we passed underneath the great stone gatehouse which concealed the drawbridge surrounding the citadel. As injured and sore as I was, I felt hope give me energy as we neared the castle.  The sound of horses hooves hitting the cobblestone echoed in my ears, the familiar scents of Calber permitting nostalgia to flood over me like rain in the new spring. The smell of freshly baked bread filled my lungs as we passed one of the twin bakery's, and the smell of smouldering steel as we passed a blacksmiths shop.

At last, we entered the courtyard of The castle. King Isdemus entered the courtyard as we began to dismount, Arthur greeting his father quickly.

" Well? Was it recovered?" King Isdemus asked.

" Yes," Arthur nodded, " And in my possession. We have much to discuss, father, but first one of my knights is in need of the court Physician, and another already there, I believe." Arthur added, and King Isdemus nodded.

" Yes, of course. Find me tonight." King Isdemus added, walking away.

" Elyhas, take the horses with William. Damian, help me take Faye to the court physician." Arthur ordered. Whilst Morthuse and Perillen had been returned to their village on the way home, Damian had refused the escort home, arguing my injuries were severe and must be returned home as quickly as possible. Arthur had not argued, and offered to escort him home afterwards.

" I don't need help," I muttered in protest, earning doubtful looks from both Prince Arthur and Damian, whom were soon supporting me on either side.

" You two do realize that my legs are both in perfectly good working condition," I added, but Arthur just laughed.

" Yes, but your injuries may cause you to stumble and do yourself further harm. You're one of us now, Faye, and a knight always looks after his own." Prince Arthur added, and I grimaced.

" I suppose this is the bit where I'm meant to express my gratitude."

" It's not an unwarranted reaction."

" Is that so? Funny. I don't recall any of your knights expressing gratitude for being half carried against their will before."

" I see you tongue isn't any less sharp not honest than when we first met, Faye." Arthur commented, waving ban elderly man in simple blue robes over.

" Issiel, she's been injured. Arrow wounds. And there was another knight here, Tristan- what became of him?" Arthur asked, as I sat on a makeshift bed whilst the physician glanced at me.

" You do realize you have out me in a very strange predicament, Sire?"

" I beg your pardon?"

" You have just inadvertently referred to this woman as a knight, and she has indeed been injured by arrows, when the simple fact of the matter is that she is a female, and as such, should not be anywhere near weaponry let alone considered a knight. She is an abomination, this is sacrilege! I will not heal a woman whom commits sin intentionally and intentionally allows you to also commit sin. T'would not be right, Sire. The woman ought to be left to die of her wounds as punishment for her actions."

" Need I remind you that you took an oath, Issiel? To abandon that oath would be betrayal of your craft and treason against the King! Issiel, you will heal this woman, this knight, and if she does not fully recover in ample time with no complications, I will see to it that yours days to be lived are short and spent in the dampest dungeon cell of Calber." Prince Arthur's voice came out with a commanding loyalty, and it was then that the full weight of his earlier words fell upon my pale ears. You're one of us now, Faye. A knight looks after his own. Something deep inside of me swelled with a strange feeling, and I couldn't help but inhale a sharp breath at the words with which Prince Arthur had just reprimanded the court physician, on my behalf. Issiel made a distasteful face.

" To treat this woman is treason to God!" Issiel snarled.

" God is not the one you should be concerned with just now, Issiel. And by who's grace other than God's do you think enabled this woman to be selected, and skilled enough, for the task from which we have just returned?" Arthur snapped.

" Bu who's hand do you believe it was who has laid out her punishment, Sire?" Issiel asked quietly, and Arthur's eyes flashed.

" That would be Cornelius Dulamonde, for it was by his hand that the forsaken place was equipped with contraptions. Choose, now. You either heal this woman or admit high treason."

Issiel dipped his head.

" Very well. I will save the life of the wench. Your soul, however, is beyond my help." Issiel replied calmly, and Arthur said nothing before he slammed the door to the chambers.