“Then I suppose,” she said with a moment of stark clarity “Then you’re lucky enough to be in love.”

  “And if that happens?” he asked with eyes so wide it made her smile a little.

  “Such curious questions.” she said with a laugh as she ruffled his hair. “If that should happen, then you should do everything in your power to hold onto it as hard as you can so that it never gets away and it’s yours forever.”

  “And what if it slips away?”

  “Then you don’t stop being the whole person that we’ve always been. You pick yourself up, you dust yourself off, you hold your head high and you keep putting one hoof in front of the other and one day when you least expect it, when you’re being the best you that you can be you’ll find heart beating just as hot as before. And just as before, you’ll take hold of it to make it yours.”

  “I’d like to feel that way one day.”

  “I have no doubt you will.” She said, motioning for him to carry on. “Be patient, be yourself and keep moving forward. You’ll get there. Follow your heart. Never stop chasing your knowledge, it was your first infatuation.”

  “I will.” He nodded before turning away. “Thank you, Hoxley. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Morell.” She said before returning to her post at the corner of the upper level. When she got there, she found Atticus already in her place. What are you doing here?”

  “I can’t sleep on this hard stone right now.” He said. “Hurts my back.”

  “I thought you were comfortable sleeping anywhere.”

  “I thought I was too. It’s getting old business is for the birds.” he joked. “Don’t ever do it.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She smiled.

  “Why don’t you get some rest?” he offered. “I’ll take your post and you’ve already stayed up for a shift.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “I’m not going to get anymore good sleep tonight. My whiskers are still on end from the lightning strike. It’s making my face itch.”

  “Then I think I will. Thank you for the reprieve.”

  “Those were some kind words you gave to the boy.” He leaned close enough to her to nudge her shoulder. “You should be a matchmaker.”

  “I know so little of love.” She blushed. “I know when its near but for all the colorful words I may have for others I seldom find them for myself.”

  “I think you’ve been saying the right things to keep the tall witch close to you. He’s a handsome one to be sure. Not the worst kind to bring home for your parents to meet, eh?”

  “Ignatius is a beautiful person on the inside as well. He has a good heart. What of you and love?” she asked. “Did you ever have someone you deeply cared for?”

  “A long time ago when I wore a younger man’s armor and had hair not so grey.” He said looking out upon the night deep in thought. “There was a maiden as beautiful and soft and gentle as any could be.”

  “You didn’t pursue her?”

  “She pursued me.”

  “And never caught you?”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “I did have the deepest of feelings for her, but the way of the sword was my first love. The cry of battle called me away from her and set me on the path to war.”

  “War?”

  “War. It’s played a tune I could not resist. I followed it wherever I thought it might appear. There are…intangible things about war that most people might not understand. It’s not for everyone, but for some it becomes everything. In war I found myself more alive than I could in that maiden’s arms. Battle after battle I found my abilities growing. I mastered the sword, then the spear, then the bow, the mace, the flail. They became as familiar to me as song is to birds. And in battle, as I was taking life, I found my own fulfilled to be an instrument that was changing the course of history. For every enemy felled, the battle changed. For every battle won, the wars changed, and for every war won, the world changed.”

  “But no major wars have been fought in a very long time.” Said Hoxley.

  “Aye, that’s true. When there were no more kings to carry a battle flag for, I set out to be a mercenary, quelling uprisings where they could be found. Anymore there seems to be so much peace in the land. There’s not much use for a soldier in times of peace.”

  “Did you ever see the maiden again?” she asked.

  “I did. It was many years later. In my travels I returned to that village. She was there and she’d moved on without me as I thought she might’ve. She’d taken up with a miller and laid her roots with a family, reared children and made friends in that same place. She passed me on the road and bid me good morning but there was no recognition in her eyes. I wasn’t even a memory. I knew her face even after it had changed so much. The same…red…hair was there staring back at me from behind the years. I could have said something, but I didn’t want to set bad ripples upon the dream that she’d made for herself. She’d found what she was looking for and held on to it.”

  “But you chased your dream of becoming a great warrior and saw that fulfilled. Your name is known far and wide.”

  “It’s good for a battle but there are no more, Hoxley. I’m an old sword collecting rust. And when I’m too old to swing, my value for this world will have ended. I’ll be as useless as a stump.”

  “You mustn’t think that way, Atticus. Look at all you’ve done to protect Prince Damron. You’re just as strong as the legends say. I saw you defeat horseman after horseman on that grassy field. The sword isn’t as rusty as you claim.”

  “But what about when this is over? What happens when he’s restored?”

  “Why I think when he’s back on the throne he’ll offer you a proper place in his court for all you’ve done. If not for your help, he could very well be dead or captured before now.”

  “What would I do in a king’s court, Hoxley? I know nothing of politics. My understanding of diplomacy has always been how many men I can slay before they turn and run.”

  “That…” she thought for a moment. “That could take some work, but I have every faith in your ability to make yourself an asset if you choose to do so.”

  “Always the optimistic one.” He nodded. “No. I think when this ordeal is done, my usefulness will be close to an end.”

  “And what then? Lay down and cease to be? You say you heard my words as I spoke to Morell but I’m beginning to think you haven’t. It falls upon you to take the next step.”

  “Those are colorful words for a boy with stars and a girl in his eyes. For an old dog like me the wheel of promise has few good turns left in it.”

  “Then by your own words there are a few good turns left. Do you really want to give up and cast them aside or will you take a chance that maybe there are still great things for you accomplish before the old dog lays down? You’ve never been a quitter, Atticus. Your words of encouragement and teaching are a foundation I carry with me and look how far it’s carried me in dangerous times? Your words through me have kept these people alive more than you know. I would be disappointed if the great Atticus, slayer of evil men laid down in the face of a challenge.”

  “No one is lying down, Hoxley.” He said with a newfound sadness. “Please, you must understand that unlike anyone else in this band you’ve gathered that I have less days ahead of me than behind me.” A large finger reached up to quickly swipe away a tear as it collected in the corner of his eye. “Long ago I foolishly traded my love away for something I thought I could hold onto forever and in the grey hours of my life I fear I’ve made a mistake that cannot be corrected. That’s just the way of things and a great fear shakes me that they are unchangeable. You are still young and lovely and have a chance for things like love. Get your rest. I’ll wake you in the time before sunrise.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you, Atticus.” Hoxley offered.

  “I said leave me in peace.”

  “Very well.” said Hoxley. “Goodnight Atticus.”

  “Goodnight Hoxley.” The faun shouldered her spear and clopped her way back to a comfortable place where she could unroll her blanket and drape it about her. The sun from the day had soaked its warmth into the magic item so that the night’s chill lost its teeth upon it. Before she closed her eyes, she stole one last glance at Ignatius who’d fallen asleep not in his hammock but slumped against a wall as he’d fallen asleep stroking Siouxsie’s hair. And in the last moments before she forced herself to shut her eyes, she wondered if it was her dream to have him stroking her hair.