The Knight and the Peasant [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 40

Salvador and Emma had found their way back to the tavern and parted to their rooms. In the morning, Salvador had stumbled back down the stairs to get some breakfast. Yesterday, Tomas had assigned one of his men to be with Emma at all times to ensure her safety. The captain sat with Gerard at a table in the far corner of the room. Salvador moved to join them, avoiding the gazes of the many eyes in the tavern that morning. Just the three of them. Just like how it started out. He sat down and ordered a mojito cocktail. As he waited for his drink, Captain Tomas spoke up, "What do we do now?" asked the captain.

Gerard sighed. "The Réaltimarines are most likely only a few days' march away from here. Stéphane put her ear to the ground last night and heard reports that they had just burned down the village of Anativa."

Salvador wrung his hands. Anativa had been a nice village. His mother had taken him there once on a small trading venture. The people had been exceptionally friendly. "Anativa..." he muttered. "They're only two days away from Sapinsville." He lifted his gaze to Gerard. "How many men?"

Gerard was obviously uncomfortable. "She said that she had heard over ten-thousand men."

Salvador cursed loudly. It drew more than a few gazes. Tomas gave him a pointed stare. "Sorry, sorry," he said, waving his hands as if to clear the air. "Sometimes my mouth grows legs and runs off on its own." Tomas huffed.

Salvador leaned in close. "What are we supposed to do? We have two days and the lord of the manor has decided to take leave to visit his brother in Rivièrra. We do not have time on our hands."

"Time is the cruelest thief of all," Tomas murmured.

"Damn straight," Salvador agreed. He fingered his rune. The copy of the one that his mother had worn the day she had di―

She's not dead you fool! She can't be! He reminded himself harshly. But everytime he did... it felt weaker. Not as resolved as he used to be. Doubt had always lingered with him but now it was ever-growing in its power.

Gerard spread his hands almost as if in defeat. "I can reveal myself as who I am and Tomas can as well. Perhaps together we can quickly organize everyone we can in a defense of the town―"

"In two days?" Salvador said, cutting him off. He shook his head. "It's impossible. It's all impossible. It's all for nothing, damn it."

Tomas' eyes shot up to behind Salvador. His hand shot to his sidesword. Salvador noticed it immediately; he rose and turned, by the time has was all the way around, his dagger was out of his belt. But when he saw who was behind him, his tongue felt like a swollen sponge and his legs turned to cooked pasta, the ends of his hair seemed to dig into his skins like needles tipped with poison. His dagger trembled in his hands and no words managed to make their way past his lips, although his mind was saying a hundred different things all at the same time.

"So quick to bare steel, are you?" Arrio quipped as he lowered his hood. The figure next to him followed suit.

Isaiah.

The boy grinned, "Well, well, here he is!"

Salvador had imagined this moment a thousand times. He thought he would rush forward and grip the two of them in a hug fit for a bear. That he would shake and sob, or speak to him of his adventures. He had visited Sapinsville before, but he had never sought out the people from his past. He didn't want to face them. All he ever did was go to the keep that housed the Lord Rivera of Sapinsville. Staring, wondering, how he could get in. How he could save the mother he knew was trapped behind those walls.

But now, here they stood. The spectres of his past, manifested. And all he could do was stand still, mouthing words that never came to be.

Isaiah had grown to be a strong boy, with thick arms and the formings of what Salvador had no doubt would be a bushy chestnut beard. Arrio had retained his plump form, wearing eyeglasses and a thick mop of black hair. Arrio snorted at Salvador's silence. "Not exactly what I was expecting, but sure."