The Knight Behind the Pillar (9 page)

             
The horse sensing my own panic reacted as any well trained horse would, it went even faster and relied purely on its own sense of flight to escape the danger it perceived. 

             
The saddle moved again. 

             
Perhaps had I spoken to the page I might of discovered he was a useless page or maybe this was not a well trained horse.  My body was shifting with everything else.  I tried to resist the saddle dragging me down with it by pulling the reins even harder to hold myself up. 

             
Across the open flood meadow land we thundered on, it simply meant one thing.  There would be nothing getting in the way, nothing to slow us down.  The occasional stretch of shallow water meant nothing to a horse of such strength and power.  The water was cool for the horse helping him keep the pace, for me the cold water splaying up only added shock as another part of my suffering.  Shouting meaningless words such as stop and other appropriate words that nuns would run from was a waste of time.  I also had little breath for it.  Unproductive were my efforts to remove my leg despite now growingly desperate attempts.  My acceptance for addition pain from my endeavour leaped forward every second if it meant I could work my tied up leg free. 

             
Again the saddle shifted, this time it felt substantial, even if in truth it was only a minor amount.  Now gravity had a hold of me, and each additional inch was increasingly dire.  All of a sudden I saw that the woods ahead had gotten close very fast as I had not been paying attention to the scenery.   If I was going to fall, hitting a tree on the way down was not something I would wish for.  As I dreaded, the support of the saddle fell away suddenly taking most of me with it to one side.  The saddle did not come away entirely so must have been tied to some degree, but my leg remained coupled with the horse against my will.  I was now just hanging onto the horse by holding the reins not designed to take the full weight of anyone and my entangled leg.  The horse was less than happy about his head being pulled about in such a way as well.  If I could get my leg free I could drop to the ground feet first, but otherwise if I let go of the reins I would hit the ground with my head and if that didn’t kill me being dragged by this horse was not going to be positive for my survival chances. 

             
The world went darker as we hurtled into the woodland, the sound of hoofs changed from the compaction of wet mud to the hard pounding of dry undergrowth.  The horse’s muscles attuned corresponding to the more punishing terrain and suddenly each contact with the ground was a greater blow to every bone of my already hurting body.  My hands were being cut to pieces by the reins while both arms felt like they were being pulled out of their sockets.  I could not hold on, had no strength to reach for the horse’s neck, pain was completing with will.  I kicked my leg some more trying to loosen it, but knowing it was no good, something broke! 

             
Pain won.

             
Through the fog that was my pounding head I struggled to open my eyes.  The ground and I had seemed to have formed a new relationship based on sheer hate.  I just could not avoid colliding with it today and before now we had been doing reasonable well.  Making a number of curses and groans I righted myself.  I was still in the forest according to the dark green haze beyond my mud and wet moss covered hands.  I tried concentrating on my immediate views.  Then the pain having waited for me to sit up kicked in and I cried loudly before it passed beyond feeling and became numb.  Trees gained focus as the blur of a patchwork of greens, browns, dark and light reduced in size and gained perspective.  It got a little better each time I opened my eyes.  Opening them was hard to do as I had to close my eyes often for the sake of my throbbing forehead.  I spat out a mixture of dirt and blood and coughed causing shots of pain to run across my chest. 

             
Finally my head fell back and then I was aware of figure before me, almost opposite.  My eyes adjusted to the light some more and I could see he was siting, his back against a trunk of mature oak tree. 

             
“I saw you fall,” Arthur spoke as I stared at him to make him out.  He had a bitter tone to his voice that was new to me and I had to see him to believe it was him.  Then answering the question not asked he stated bluntly, “Guess I had to check you were still alive.”

             
I felt behind me and found I was partly lying on a large exposed root of a tree.  Support enough for now and I pushed myself across a little further then collapsed on it.  Pain was not describable at that moment. 

             
“Thanks,” I finally answered once I thought I was not going to faint.  “I thought you were gone and I had….” I said with an effort, pausing to let another wave of agony pass, “lost you.”

             
“I didn’t want you to find me.” Arthur snapped, his voice heightened with an edge of anger and at this stage I was not sure who it was aimed at.  I did not know what to say in return and said nothing, but he continued after a short silence.  “Why were you rushing to catch me?”

             
The good news was I was alive, I could not think how.  The pain seemed to ease a little in some places unless I had lost body parts and could no longer feel them.

             
As for Arthur’s question I finally answered slowly with half a grumble “I wanted to check you were alright.”  I said, still trying to clear my head and think straight.

             
“Liar.” Arthur yelled and jumped up, his face red.

I did not think it was best for me to move so stayed seated.  I was not even sure I could move yet, but my mind was now racing.  I really was not in a fit state to be dealing
with an angry would-be king.

             
“You’re right,” I replied a little taken aback and worried by his severity.  “I was also sent, but even if I hadn’t been I would’ve still followed.”

             
“And you happened to be looking out for me since I got here, or was that planned by someone as well!” He excused.

             
I sat amazed and shocked and to be honest feeling sick.   He moved over to me and now crouching low stared directly at me with contempt.  I tried to return his stare back, part of me was getting wound up, tempted to tell him to back off and stop being an idiot, but instead I had to keep looking away.  The pain down the side of my neck and a nightmare headache was affecting my concentration and distracted me.

             
“Oh my head hurts.” I was forced to admit out loud as pain drilled down into my head.

             
I did not want a deep meaningful conversation right now, I needed to swear about my woes and not explore Arthur’s problems. 

             
Arthur had other ideas, “Well?” He demanded, his jaw tightly clinched.

             
“Please Art, just…” I pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.

             
“Tell me!”

             
“You think I am mixed up with all those kings and lords.” I sputtered in haste.  My angry overruled pain for a moment and while I had a chance I took it, “You’re joking.  You think I would steal a horse, race after you, one that didn’t have its damn straps tightened, I mean, I ask you, for them!”

             
Arthur just shook his head and I had no idea if he was he listening to me.  My head dropped for a moment.  Again it was too painful to look at him now kneeling slightly above me.  The effort to hold my head to look at such an angle for long had drained away.  

             
“You think I’m a fool, a puppet to play.  I pull out a sword and suddenly everyone is my new friend, don’t think I don’t see it!  I don’t know who you are; don’t know them, anyone anymore.  Just, just leave me alone.”

             
He stood straight at these words and turned to go.

             
Against any sensible idea or sheer common sense, I quickly tried to regain some strength to talk back once more. 

             
“I am just trying to help you!”  I cried out.  “I didn’t come to force you back, that’s up to you.  If you want to leave just go, you didn’t have to stop.” 

             
Energy drained away again.  I needed a moment to regroup and a new head, but Arthur was not going to let me recover as he faced me again. 

             
“How can you help, you have no idea what I am going through, this is huge, this is ruling a country!  They want me to be a king and I have no one, no one!” He yelled again. 

             
I could see in his eyes the pain and torment I could match in actual physical pain.  I waited for a time, my only defence, diffusing the stress of the moment was by saying nothing.  He broke away, frustration boiling over and kicking leaves in irritation. 

Finally I sighed and attempted to ignore my aches and head to try talking calmly to him.  “Look, my father ensured loyally by killing anyone that was a threat.  His people lived, still live in fear of him and any opposition was always crushed at once.  I never understood, we were different people and I can’t explain why.”  I paused for a needed breath, “You would think seeing the results of his will every day I would have thought it normal, acceptable and right.  Instead I dreamed of being a knight, a real one, not a prince and not one of the paid pawns of my father who trained daily in the courtyard.  I use to watch them learn to fight and help my father, and how they helped continue to impose his might on the weak....
”

             
“What are you talking about?” Arthur interrupted.

             
He had circled the clearing and dropped onto his knees before me once again. 

             
I ignored his menace in his voice and intimidation of his presence and continued.  “I had a mentor, he taught me to read and write and when our lessons were over he told me stories of real knights.  The ones who were true and just.  They would defend to their uttermost the weak and oppressed, they were kind, but fair, courteous and brave.  He was lying, but I decided then I wanted to be a knight, that knight, a true knight who was not just a mindless soldier.  My father could not understand me, we had many,” I paused for a moment and by this point Arthur was quiet now, but just watched me intently.  A different pain, that of memory and remembering my battles with my father and his rage.  All words were an understatement to describe it and Arthur had yet to come close to such misery.  “Well, arguments let’s say.  He finally let me go to here, maybe four years ago now, to learn to be a knight.  He told me I would never take over from him and that I was a disappointment like my elder brother and any of my younger brothers would make a better heir.  So yes I know a little bit about what you are going through.  Cause I had a chance once to be a king you see.  I was once announced as Tor, Prince Tor and son to King Pellinore of Northumberland!”

             
For a moment Arthur stared at me, his eyes red and glazed, then without warming shot out his hand that had quickly wrapped into a tight ball and before I could move he punched me hard across the face.  I let out a yell.  It was a good punch and stunned me before the pain hit a split second later.  I fell back, my head going first, but one of my hands stopped me hitting the ground while the other reached to check my face was still there.  Disorientated and light headed, it was hard to work out if I was in pain due to the hit or it was still from my fall from the horse.

             
“Why is everyone lying to me?” Shouted Arthur above me, now enraged and going red as it took over him and then I saw he was about to embark on further punches.

             
I had enough wit and had had enough of being pounded by the world today to find strength to move forward first.  My sides, which were already numb from my fall, took the additional blows before I could get up and grasp him.  We wrestled for a moment, my arms around his waist and head under one of his arms and with enough leverage to push or at least fall with him to the ground.  I didn’t want to fight back unless I had to and intended to hold him back to calm him down.  The ground was against me yet again and with my own strength gone, he pushed me to the side.  Thanks to the slight sloping ground we rolled together until a low old tree stump stopped us from going too far, but far enough to gain a slight momentum, and Arthur was thrown off me and across the clearing with a grunt.

             
I staggered to my feet to prepare for another onslaught.  Forget calming him down, I did not want to fight on because I was now not convinced that in my state I would survive!  Luckily for me Arthur didn’t move and remained on the forest floor. 

             
Alive, he was breathing hard and stared towards the canopies above and I realised that the fight was over as quickly as it began.  His attack was a burst of uncontrolled anger.  I think if I was him I would have been feeling the same way. 

             
“I didn’t lie.  I just don’t tell everyone who my father is.  I was just trying to be a friend and I get a black eye and lots of other bruises from falling off a horse for my trouble.”  I explained between my own recoveries of breath.