The Slave Knight Part 1: The Dagon

Chapter Twenty: Fuhries of the Forest

They had been riding for hours, with King Malen at the head. He rode close with the kingsguard Faelen making frequent turns and double backing many times, ensuring that none could follow their trail. In truth, the Haertland's kingsguard would eventually find their trail, but Malen believed that there was no sense in making it easy or obvious for them. The first few hours were just hard riding, through forests thick with trees, gnarled roots, ravines, and holes, all of which almost guaranteed that a horse would break a leg or turn a hoof. None did.

These were war horses of the Haertland, and it seemed that their acclaim was understated at best. Each horse was as surefooted as could be, with easy going rides, competent progression, organization, speed and agility, strength and stamina for days, and they knew where the hell they were going. Hardly any at all had a smattering of sweat by the time the warbands settled from a gallop to a canter, and then to a slow meandering as they prepared to take their first rest in hours.

Sir Jonus was particularly happy about that, as it had been quite a ride for him. The horse he rode was a massive war horse, who could bear his and Sir Wallace's weight. However, the awkwardness of Sir Wallace being astride his horse, belly first, made the ride that much more awkward. He was happy to throw himself off the horse, and even happier to throw Sir Wallace down with him. Sir Jonus still head a grievous resentment and frustration at Sir Wallace's lack luster attempts at escape and the loss of his vigor at their misfortune. He hated how Sir Wallac lost his own will to live since Meister Kevin's execution. It was a tragedy, yet Sir Wallace had a duty that he had shirked at every turn, while locked in the dungeons of the Haertland.

Pussy. He thought viley, but would not utter the words aloud. Contempt was in his mind and would spill out into his voice if he were given the chance to speak. Such contempt would rise to a challenge, and such a challenge would lead to another needless and useless death in the already thinning ranks of the Wild Boars. It was something that even a thick headed slave knight like Sir Jonus could appreciate as much as anyone else. As such, he held his tongue. Instead, he let his ire show in different ways. Such as callously letting Sir Wallace lay on the ground, unconscious while his war horse shat near Sir Wallace's face. None of the slave knights made a move to make Sir Wallace's condition any better, feeling a similar, if not the same way, as Sir Jonus.

Sir Jonus decided it was time to confront this dark elf and see what was what with him and his fuck high elf Faelen. Most of what was done came out of nowhere, at least to Sir Jonus and he wanted answers. He was sure that the rest of the cabal they had formed wanted the same answers. It seemed all of them, that is Sir Jabberjaw, Sir Jessup, and Sir Winifred, were of the same mind, as of late. He joined them in their walk toward their two elvish saviors.

The remainder of the slave knights gave the dark elf and high elf a wide berth, allowing them to work, unpack and prepare for the next leg of their journey on their own. They knew not what to do, nor say, with them, and while many were thankful for their kindness, they were wary of their motivations. Durug and Sir Yashua were both just happy about their luck, or providence as Sir Yashua would have it, and had gone to a far corner as thick as thieves talking about this and that ,about the merits of divine intervention, luck, or any of the other many sources of their salvation. Neither even conceived that this was planned by anyone.

Sir Jonus met with the remainder of the cabal and all gave curt nods, one to another. Before he could get out a word Sir Jessup invaded their minds. Everyone, this may have been an offshoot of the plan that we devised. Be vigilant.

What do you mean Sir Jessup? Sir Jonus had been quick and clear headed now. He wanted answers. He wanted clarity. He wanted something more than what he had, which was nothing. Sir Jessup spent the time explaining the situation with Hoflar, the Meister of the Treasury and Ulfnir, the Dungeon Meister. He explained the work the twins and Anthony had done in order to achieve their escape, and the things Sir Jessup was "forced" to do to ensure their safety. The cabal stood stoically and solemnly as Sir Jessup recounted the events of the past couple of weeks. They listened. They saw, and they bore the sins of Sir Jessup and his minds.