The one from the other two combined a short note that I wrote her, so, technically, this is installment III. Enjoy.
The Clamor Amongst The Wood (continued…)
by Senator Brett
The figure that had emerged could not be mistaken for anything other than a knight, dressed in full battle amour and shrouded in what could only be the king’s royal robe. And, while the figure had emerged from the woods it seemed to stumble from it more than actually walk away from it.
Immediately, Princess Anel could tell that the knight was wounded. Even from the safety of the trees and from the distance where she sat perched on her pony she could see that the royal robe was in disarray and battle-worn and that the knight walked with a visible limp. “How can this be?” whispered Princess Anel to Breann, but mostly to herself. “No one wears the royal robe unless they are the king, unless they are my father. And, this can’t be. We received word moths ago that father had been slain in the Battle of Balaam.”
Princess Anel wanted desperately to run towards the figure and wrap her arms around it and believe, really believe, that this was her dead father returning from the grave. But, she knew better. Things like that never happen, not even in her precious world. This had to be a trap. Obviously, someone made a robe identical to the royal robe, made themselves some armor that resembled her father’s own armor and was using their limp to garner sympathy in hopes of bringing her out of hiding.
“This has to be a trap,” the princess muttered. “I won’t fall for it. My father is dead. I know this to be true. Whatever that thing is, well, it isn’t my father.” Breann quietly brayed in agreement as to not be heard, but also to let the princess know that, while she might be just a pony, she still understood what was going on in front of them.
But, then a strange thing happened as the princess peered at the wounded knight through the trees. The knight stopped just a few short paces from the old abandoned barn, slowly knelt on both knees and leaned back his head as if in utter exhaustion. Then the knight casually tilted his head downward and removed his helmet. And, once the knight lifted his head again towards the sky the princess gasped again, this time a little too loudly as the knight quickly jerked his head in her direction.
And, in a flood of emotion and with much laughter mixed with even more tears Princess Anel spurned Breann like a lightening bolt from among the trees where they had been hiding and galloped straight towards the knight. “Orione, Orione! Can that be you?! Can that really be you?!” screamed the young princess.
Orione rose stiffly from the ground and smiled broadly, “Why, yes, my Princess Anel. IT is I, Orione, Master at Arms and faithful servant of your father, King Lucia, Lord and Master of all of Appalapachia.”
“I’m so terribly glad to see you. It’s been too long. I see that you are wearing my father’s robe.” Princess Anel quickly dismounted Breann and ran to the bulky wounded knight and threw her arms around him. “Where is he? Is he safe back at the castle?” inquired Princess Anel.
The powerful knight held the princess tightly and said, “My little love, we have much to discuss. As for now, all I can tell you for certain is that I know not where your father might be and that I hold myself responsible, personally responsible, for losing him. I hope that your mother, and you can, forgive me, and I promise you both that I will spend my very last breath in search of your father. And, I shall fill your mother, and yourself, in with all the terrible news once we are all together in the Great Hall at Castle Fyrkat.”
“But, I want to know right now!” pleased the young princess.
Orione replied softly, but sternly, “My Princess Anel, there are some things in this life that are better learned in the company of those that love us the most.”
(To be continued)