The Death of ser Sola Somercrag
Nine horses ride along a broad country road, dense trees and underbrush line the road to the left, while the right slopes down into wide fields. Smoke drifts lazily from a farmhouse in the distance. A magpie follows the riders in the branches above their heads, loudly calling at them to show his displeasure that they dare to ride through his territory without making an offering of crumbs.
At the back of the group, two boys laugh and joke with each other while between them a slightly older girl tries to ignore their attempts to impress her.
At the head of the group, two knights ride side by side. Their conversation is light, born of the familiarity of two soldiers who have ridden and fought together for many years. Ser Boggs Leonhart, whose helm bears the likeness of a golden lion, and who carries Lady Sola's Royal Standard, tells a ribald joke to the younger woman in the red and green livery of House Tallman of Summerswind, whose sudden bright laugh carries in the open air, scattering shocked songbirds from the treeline.
In the middle, between her knights and the squires rides ser Sola Somercrag and the two members of House Hayford that she is bringing to The Capital to demonstrate their innocence. These three are less communicative than the other groups. The princess is somewhat relieved by this, ser Edam Bracks and Duke Brennar Hayford having spent much of the ride thus far complaining about not being present at Tayach Dam to see the Duke's son, ser Edgarth, rescued. In comparison, the uncomfortable silence they have shared since beginning the second day's ride is an improvement.
"Milady, if I may-" begins Ser Edam again. Lady Sola lets out a sigh before cutting him off.
"You may not ser. I know what you mean to ask. My answer is still the same. Your testimony will exonerate your lord, so you are needed in the capital.
"And besides, the fighting at Tayach Dam is surely done now, for good or ill. All being well, young ser Edgarth will be brought to Bayglen in time for this whole matter to be dealt with."
Ser Edam mutters something to himself and returns to sullen silence. He busies himself with fidgeting at the straps of his new armour.
At the head of the party ser Boggs reins in his horse as he rounds a bend in the road, calling out for the others to wait a moment before moving forward slowly. In the middle of the pathway ahead a wagon lies askew, one of its wheels caught in a ditch and its massive axle snapped in half like a twig. Crates and sacks have spilled out upon the road, and an old man and young girl stand distraught staring at their possessions littering the road. To the right the fence has been broken down where the wagon collided with it, and in the distance two cart horses can be seen still yoked to one another, grazing amongst a number of sheep.
"Hail travellers, well met!" ser Boggs calls down from his horse, one hand resting on the reins as the other holds the royal banner high.
The old man goes to one knee when he sees the knight, and he pulls the young girl down to a knee too.
"Good morrow milord. My apologies, we'll have this stuff moved from your path in but a moment."
Hearing the exchange, ser Sola spurs her horse to catch up to her knight. When she lays eye on the spilled cart she calls back to the rest of her party.
"This will go much quicker if we lend a hand. Ser Alysia, take Milah and Alvar and see if you can't round up those horses. Lisbeth, maybe you have something in your pack that will steady this young lady? The men and I will help to right your cart and load it for you." As ser Sola issues her orders she swings a leg over her saddle and slips to the ground.
"It won't get you moving again, but we'll send aid from Arrowbreach when we arrive."
She goes to take the hand of the old man, shaking it and helping him to his feet. Behind her the other knights are also now afoot, tying their reins to the fence and setting about their appointed tasks.
The old man's hand tightens around hers, and when she meets his eyes she finds tears in his eyes. Gratitude, no doubt.
The world suddenly turns white, as a light bright enough to overpower the midday sun erupts from the wagon. Ser Sola is thrown from her feet and her helm clatters against the stones of the road, bounces once and then falls away from her head. As she tries to regain her feet, she realises she is still holding the hand of the old man, the tatters of his arm and sleeve stopping suddenly. She drops the severed limb and looks around. The treeline is suddenly bursting with men, men in the liveries of House Hayford and House Crowler intermingled. They rush out of the trees, mouths hanging open, weapons readied. She stumbles, wondering why she cannot hear her knights rallying, hear the screams of the men around her, hear the clash of steel on steel. A man runs at her with a sharp spear poised to strike. She draws her own sword to parry, but the movement seems impossibly slow. Every detail seems to freeze in her mind. The glint of flames on the tip of her opponent's spear, the spittle flying from his mouth as he charges, the tugging feeling in her gut…
Looking down at her sword, she sees that her hands have instead closed around a large splinter of gaily painted wood, which penetrates between her breastplate and her fauld. Blood pours out around the wound. She hadn't even realised she had fallen to her knees. The spearman charges past her, and as she turns to follow him her body falls sideways to the ground. The spearman joins several of his fellows surrounding ser Boggs, who is desperately trying to fight from his knees, but is caught between four uninjured men. Weapons rise and fall, and the knight goes down. Only when his body hits the floor does he finally relinquish his hold on the royal standard, which falls into the burning wreckage of the cart.
Sola's eyes drift. She can feel herself growing dim within her body, each breath an impossible effort. Suddenly her eyes catch upon three figures in the field beyond the road. Ser Alysia and the two Squire boys.
Please, please let them escape she wills, watching them ride away from the fighting. But then from amongst the sheep in the field, several soldiers stand. From this distance ser Sola cannot see the bolts fly through the air or hear the twang of the strings, but she sees the three figures fall from their horses.
It is only when she hears her own hoarse scream that she realises her hearing is returning slowly. She hears two voices in muffled conversation somewhere above her, but cannot muster the strength even to turn her head and see the speakers.
"All is……ser Kyra."
"My thanks, ser……you played your part we…"
"What of the Duke? He……, what do you want done with him?"
"Kill him. His corpse……better than his tongue could."
"By your command, ser."
"Hey! This one's still breathing!"
There is the sound of footsteps, and a pair of boots step into ser Sola's field of vision.
She is suddenly yanked upright by fingers tangled in her hair. The pain in her guts almost causes her to black out. She recognises ser Kyra Crowler standing in front of her, the rest of the road littered with the bodies of dead men and knights. In the distance, she can just make out the form of Duke Brennar slumped against a tree. A figure approaches him, draws back a sword and plunges it into his chest.
"Bring me the Duke's sword!" ser Kyra calls, and the figure bends down and does as she says, drawing the Duke's Longsword from his belt before turning to bring it to the Lady Crowler.
Ser Sola desperately tries to focus, to gain command of her limbs, to curse the false knight in front of her. Instead she watches helplessly as a man in House Hayford livery passes ser Kyra the sword, and ser Kyra raises it above her head to catch the sun…and then brings it down in an arc that ends in only blackness for ser Sola.
At the back of the group, two boys laugh and joke with each other while between them a slightly older girl tries to ignore their attempts to impress her.
At the head of the group, two knights ride side by side. Their conversation is light, born of the familiarity of two soldiers who have ridden and fought together for many years. Ser Boggs Leonhart, whose helm bears the likeness of a golden lion, and who carries Lady Sola's Royal Standard, tells a ribald joke to the younger woman in the red and green livery of House Tallman of Summerswind, whose sudden bright laugh carries in the open air, scattering shocked songbirds from the treeline.
In the middle, between her knights and the squires rides ser Sola Somercrag and the two members of House Hayford that she is bringing to The Capital to demonstrate their innocence. These three are less communicative than the other groups. The princess is somewhat relieved by this, ser Edam Bracks and Duke Brennar Hayford having spent much of the ride thus far complaining about not being present at Tayach Dam to see the Duke's son, ser Edgarth, rescued. In comparison, the uncomfortable silence they have shared since beginning the second day's ride is an improvement.
"Milady, if I may-" begins Ser Edam again. Lady Sola lets out a sigh before cutting him off.
"You may not ser. I know what you mean to ask. My answer is still the same. Your testimony will exonerate your lord, so you are needed in the capital.
"And besides, the fighting at Tayach Dam is surely done now, for good or ill. All being well, young ser Edgarth will be brought to Bayglen in time for this whole matter to be dealt with."
Ser Edam mutters something to himself and returns to sullen silence. He busies himself with fidgeting at the straps of his new armour.
At the head of the party ser Boggs reins in his horse as he rounds a bend in the road, calling out for the others to wait a moment before moving forward slowly. In the middle of the pathway ahead a wagon lies askew, one of its wheels caught in a ditch and its massive axle snapped in half like a twig. Crates and sacks have spilled out upon the road, and an old man and young girl stand distraught staring at their possessions littering the road. To the right the fence has been broken down where the wagon collided with it, and in the distance two cart horses can be seen still yoked to one another, grazing amongst a number of sheep.
"Hail travellers, well met!" ser Boggs calls down from his horse, one hand resting on the reins as the other holds the royal banner high.
The old man goes to one knee when he sees the knight, and he pulls the young girl down to a knee too.
"Good morrow milord. My apologies, we'll have this stuff moved from your path in but a moment."
Hearing the exchange, ser Sola spurs her horse to catch up to her knight. When she lays eye on the spilled cart she calls back to the rest of her party.
"This will go much quicker if we lend a hand. Ser Alysia, take Milah and Alvar and see if you can't round up those horses. Lisbeth, maybe you have something in your pack that will steady this young lady? The men and I will help to right your cart and load it for you." As ser Sola issues her orders she swings a leg over her saddle and slips to the ground.
"It won't get you moving again, but we'll send aid from Arrowbreach when we arrive."
She goes to take the hand of the old man, shaking it and helping him to his feet. Behind her the other knights are also now afoot, tying their reins to the fence and setting about their appointed tasks.
The old man's hand tightens around hers, and when she meets his eyes she finds tears in his eyes. Gratitude, no doubt.
The world suddenly turns white, as a light bright enough to overpower the midday sun erupts from the wagon. Ser Sola is thrown from her feet and her helm clatters against the stones of the road, bounces once and then falls away from her head. As she tries to regain her feet, she realises she is still holding the hand of the old man, the tatters of his arm and sleeve stopping suddenly. She drops the severed limb and looks around. The treeline is suddenly bursting with men, men in the liveries of House Hayford and House Crowler intermingled. They rush out of the trees, mouths hanging open, weapons readied. She stumbles, wondering why she cannot hear her knights rallying, hear the screams of the men around her, hear the clash of steel on steel. A man runs at her with a sharp spear poised to strike. She draws her own sword to parry, but the movement seems impossibly slow. Every detail seems to freeze in her mind. The glint of flames on the tip of her opponent's spear, the spittle flying from his mouth as he charges, the tugging feeling in her gut…
Looking down at her sword, she sees that her hands have instead closed around a large splinter of gaily painted wood, which penetrates between her breastplate and her fauld. Blood pours out around the wound. She hadn't even realised she had fallen to her knees. The spearman charges past her, and as she turns to follow him her body falls sideways to the ground. The spearman joins several of his fellows surrounding ser Boggs, who is desperately trying to fight from his knees, but is caught between four uninjured men. Weapons rise and fall, and the knight goes down. Only when his body hits the floor does he finally relinquish his hold on the royal standard, which falls into the burning wreckage of the cart.
Sola's eyes drift. She can feel herself growing dim within her body, each breath an impossible effort. Suddenly her eyes catch upon three figures in the field beyond the road. Ser Alysia and the two Squire boys.
Please, please let them escape she wills, watching them ride away from the fighting. But then from amongst the sheep in the field, several soldiers stand. From this distance ser Sola cannot see the bolts fly through the air or hear the twang of the strings, but she sees the three figures fall from their horses.
It is only when she hears her own hoarse scream that she realises her hearing is returning slowly. She hears two voices in muffled conversation somewhere above her, but cannot muster the strength even to turn her head and see the speakers.
"All is……ser Kyra."
"My thanks, ser……you played your part we…"
"What of the Duke? He……, what do you want done with him?"
"Kill him. His corpse……better than his tongue could."
"By your command, ser."
"Hey! This one's still breathing!"
There is the sound of footsteps, and a pair of boots step into ser Sola's field of vision.
She is suddenly yanked upright by fingers tangled in her hair. The pain in her guts almost causes her to black out. She recognises ser Kyra Crowler standing in front of her, the rest of the road littered with the bodies of dead men and knights. In the distance, she can just make out the form of Duke Brennar slumped against a tree. A figure approaches him, draws back a sword and plunges it into his chest.
"Bring me the Duke's sword!" ser Kyra calls, and the figure bends down and does as she says, drawing the Duke's Longsword from his belt before turning to bring it to the Lady Crowler.
Ser Sola desperately tries to focus, to gain command of her limbs, to curse the false knight in front of her. Instead she watches helplessly as a man in House Hayford livery passes ser Kyra the sword, and ser Kyra raises it above her head to catch the sun…and then brings it down in an arc that ends in only blackness for ser Sola.
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