Thank you both for your encouragement. Here is the second part:-
Part 2. The Knight of the Broken Heart
As he crouched, transfixed, one of the ghostly company
seemed to falter and moved apart from the advancing line. After a momentary pause, this lone figure
seemed to start and to his horror the boy saw that it was moving purposefully
towards the scrubby bush which was his hiding place. It was a great knight, dressed for war in chain and plate,
and yet his sword was sheathed and his armour, though tarnished, bore no
scratch or dent. His face, behind a
grizzled beard, was racked with pain and his arms clutched tightly at his
breast. Staring unerringly at the spot
where the boy lay he lowered his arms and with one hand removed the gauntlet
from the other. Only then did the boy
make out the glowing device emblazoned across the breastplate. A living heart, sundered in two as if by some
mighty blade, lay pulsing there and drops of blood like tears mingled with the
dancing sparks surrounding him. It was
then, pointing a crooked forefinger directly at the fearful boy, that he
spoke. “I choose.” The words reverberated across the bare
mountainside and seemed to fly up to the stars behind the peak and into the
woods and vale beyond the sleeping village.
For a moment panic gripped the boy and in his confusion he
rose from his resting place and made to flee, but the thunderous bass of the
knight’s proclamation seemed to grip at his senses and instead he fell in a
heap, out in the open at the knight’s feet.
Many a stout heart would have
succumbed to fear there, lying alone
before the terrifying figure in that rocky landscape and cloaked in a darkness
relieved only by the relentless sparks pursuing their ghastly dance. Yet this boy raised his head and spoke – for here
was one who had known no love or certainty or happiness whose loss he feared and
who faced these terrors here as mere extensions of those he had faced each day
at the hands of his unfeeling fellow creatures during his miserable existence. “Who are you, sir, and what causes you such
pain?” And then the knight replied:-
“I am the Knight of the Broken Heart, or so I am known among
this company. Once, when I was but a
callow youth like you, orphaned and cast out, I sought to make my mark upon
this world and set out on the highways and the byways of my land. One summer night, while sleeping by the
roadside, I dreamed a Guiding Spirit woke me and carried me high up to a
mountaintop and there, in a cave, my Spirit showed to me a truly wondrous
place. It was a world like none I had
ever dreamed of, filled with mountains, rivers, seas, with hills and plains and
forests, great jungles, deserts, bitter fields of ice.”
As the words tumbled from his lips the boy discerned a
change in the knight’s features as, from beneath the pained and grizzled visage,
an expression of purest joy was glimpsed.
“The land my Spirit showed me teemed with life, with birds
and beasts and settlements of every race from tiny villages to mighty cities
whose walls and towers touched the clouds.
A place where friendship thrived and music, song and jest were daily
celebrated and deeds of honour and valour performed. But a land, too, where evil stalked and devious
plots were hatched and executed and a place where the undead walked. And there my Guiding Spirit put me down and
told me that my dream was real and gave to me a place to rule and asked me only
this. ‘Only to me be true in all you do’. So I became a ruler in this land and life was
good for my cities thrived and my people were happy and I was much in the
company of the kind and honourable and gentle and loving folk of this land and my
scouts and merchants and armies travelled far and wide to discover its secrets. And always I remembered what my Spirit spake; honour was the watchword of my people and always
we would strive to protect the weak, to look kindly on the foolish, to bestow
charity both on those deserving and those less so, to use the word before the
sword and above all to have a generous
heart. And life was good.”
At this point the knight paused and the gaze of his piercing
blue eyes, which up until now had held the boy, was broken and his expression was
glazed as if for a moment transported to another time and place. And strangely it was the boy who broke the
silence, for the knight’s tale had fired within him a curious imagination long
starved of nurture. “What befell you,
good knight?” At once the knight
responded, his whole body seemingly convulsing as he clutched at his heart
involuntarily before resuming his narrative.
“There was no warning.
It was a bright summer morn and life was burgeoning and vibrant all around. As was my daily habit I made my way to the
chapel in my castle to seek my Spirit and to reaffirm my vow. There as I knelt to meditate and meld my mind
with His a terrible crack was heard and a pain of indescribable intensity
gripped my whole body, driving me into unconsciousness. Just before the darkness descended I saw the
stained glass window in the chapel, bearing my device, a living heart, shatter
into a thousand pieces. That was the
last I ever saw of my land, my people, my friends. When I woke, close by to this place, I was
confused and knew not where I lay. Yet I
sensed that many months, or maybe years, had passed and that I ne’er again
would return to that land where once I dwelt.
So I looked once more to seek my Guiding Spirit but as my mind reached
out to His, He was not there and I sensed only a terrible sickness in His
place.”
Once again the knight dropped his gaze, but this time it was
to look to the east where the faintest flecks of newborn light now streaked the
dark horizon. When the knight turned to
him once more the boy sensed in him a
new sense of urgency which he had not seen before and he noticed too that the
ghostly procession had turned and was now proceeding apace towards the top of
the mountain. Gazing intently at the
boy, the knight extended his arm in his direction and a curled forefinger
beckoned. “Come!”
One might wonder what thoughts filled the lad’s head as,
just for a moment, he escaped the knight’s piercing stare and glanced down the
mountainside towards the village. One
can only imagine what memories of whippings and mockery and untold unkindnesses
informed the decision that he made then. Or perhaps it was simply the absence
of love and hope in his life up to this point which decided him, for maybe the
knight’s tale had shown him hereto unimagined possibilities. In any event the boy arose from the stony ground
and joined the knight at the rear of the trail of lights.
And two events are worthy of recall as they made their way
to the summit and there passed across the threshold of a cave concealed in the
rock. As soon as the boy made to join
the knight the lights surrounding him seemed to glow more brightly and a
greenish glow detached itself and seemed for a moment to dart playfully about
the boy’s head and just for a moment he glimpsed, or imagined that he did, a
grinning set of upturned fangs and then a pointed ear within the lights. Just before they entered the cave the boy
looked to the east where day was advancing rapidly and saw a sight he had not
seen before for silhouetted against the growing dawn a congregation of great
black birds tumbled out of the sky, cawing triumphantly.
Next Time:- In the Cave of Tears