“Was that a wise decision, father?”
Richard looked up, shocked out of his contemplations by his son's voice. Michael stood a short distance away, his stance casual and confident.
He was the perfect picture of a royal knight. His suit of armour was immaculate, polished until it gleamed, not a dent or scratch anywhere on its surface. A small lion, blood red in colour and elaborately designed, enamelled on the left side of his breast plate immediately caught the eye. Not a speck of dust could be seen on his black boots, and his white cape hung straight down his back. The long two-handed sword strapped to his waist completed the outfit, its bright red and gold scabbard, decorated with elaborate patterns, standing out like a bile demon in a church choir.
Looking at his son, Richard felt his chest swell with pride.
Michael had always been a bright and very eager boy. Recognizing his intellect at a very young age, his parents had assigned him only the very best tutors from all over the country. The young boy had thrown himself into his studies with an eagerness and enthusiasm that astounded everyone. Often he had spent the whole day locked up in his chambers reading books. All his teachers had spoken highly of him, heaping praise on him for his diligence, commending his curiosity, and complimenting him on his astonishing powers of comprehension.
At the age of 16, he had joined the royal combat forces and attended the elite military academy in Heartland, to train with the most promising of all new recruits. He had completed his training in record time, graduating after only three years instead of five, and had quickly risen through the military ranks. Demonstrating a cunning tactical mind and a strong swift sword arm, he had proven himself in many war games and on countless battlefields until he had attained the position of captain of the royal elite regiment.
All his raids on dungeons up to now had been victorious, most of them with only minimal casualties among his own men. He was already responsible for over two dozen destroyed dungeon hearts and had killed countless demons. His men respected him, women adored him, and keepers feared him.
“What problem is it you have with my decision, my son?”
Michael straightened a little. “It seems to me that you rewarded him for abandoning his duties to his lord. This could send the wrong signal to our people.”
A small smile spread across Richard's face. He couldn't help it. Every time he looked at his son he was reminded of himself at that age. If it weren't for the hair, which was brown like his mother's, not blonde like Richard's own, Michael could be a carbon copy of himself. The same chiselled features, the same broad shoulders, the same intense eyes. It was almost like looking into a mirror that let him see back into the past. Michael was a miracle, and the king thanked God every day for this blessing.
“No, my son, it is not as simple as that,” Richard said, shaking his head. “Farmer Antony found himself in a very difficult position and thought he had to decide which obligations were more important to him: the duty of a husband to his wife, or the duty of a vassal to his lord. He decided his duty as a husband was more important and did what he thought was right. This, I think, is to be rewarded.” Richard's voice grew more passionate as he continued with his explanation. “The bond of holy matrimony is the most sacred thing in the world, it takes precedence over the bond between a vassal and his lord. Nevertheless,” the king shook his head, “there would have been ways to take care of his wife without shirking his duty to his lord. That is why I punished him as well.”
The king closed his eyes, lowering his head. He took a deep breath before he continued speaking. “Our sense of duty and obligation, our capacity for love, that is what distinguishes us from dungeon keepers. They are character traits that we should strive for and that we should encourage in our people.” Richard opened his eyes again, which were blazing with an inner fire. “Keepers are evil and selfish creatures. They care nothing about others and live only for themselves. All they are interested in is more power for themselves and new victims to slaughter to indulge their violent natures.” The volume of his voice rose as his passion grew. “If we abandon our sense of duty, if we lose our ability to love, then we will be no different from the keepers!” The last words of his passionate speech reverberated from the walls of the audience chamber, and Richard exhaled deeply after finishing his speech.
When he had regained his composure he addressed his son again. “That is why I made that decision. Do you understand, my son?”
Michael nodded. “Yes, father.”
Then the king's face broke out into a smile again. “But you did not come here to listen to my ramblings. Tell me, what is it you need to bring to my attention?”
Michael stood at attention. “I have news on the women that were abducted from the village Sweetwater one week ago, my Lord. Our fairy scouts have found out where they were taken.”
Richard's smile widened. “That is good news, my son. Tell me, what did you find out?”
“Our fairies followed the magical trail left by the pillaging demons for three days to the east until they had almost reached Emberglow. They found an entrance to a dungeon that was hidden underneath a pile of rocks. According to them, the women were taken into that dungeon.”
“Hmm,” made Richard, stroking his chin. “We must make haste with our rescue mission, then. I want you to take care of this matter personally, Michael. Rescue the women and destroy the keeper who was audacious enough to come to the surface and steal our maidens! Show those heartless bastards that we will not let such impudent deeds go unpunished!”
Michael frowned. “Rescue them, father? I say we forget about them and concentrate solely on destroying the keeper. They have been in his hands for almost a week now. They are most likely dead, or worse. We should destroy the dungeon heart and cave the dungeon in. There is nothing we can do for the women, wasting our soldiers on a hopeless rescue mission does not seem wise.”
“No!” Richard stated adamantly. “We will never give up on them! They are my subjects, it was my duty to protect them. I have failed in that duty, but I will not leave them for dead. Every soldier knows what to expect when he enters our military. They pledged their life to protecting this kingdom and its inhabitants! It is their duty to risk their lives for tasks such as this one!”
“But, my Lord!” Michael protested. “Even if they are still alive they won't be the same any more. No doubt they have been imprisoned and tortured all this time. Saving these women could be dangerous!”
“You have your orders,” the king said coolly. “Now go and carry them out!”
Michael swallowed any further replies he might have had and stalked out of the chamber angrily, his cape swishing behind him.
Richard watched his son go with a frown. While it was true that Michael was an outstanding scholar and one of the most skilful warriors in the country, he also tended to be very cold and callous. He did not value the life of their people like Richard did and was too eager to sacrifice even whole villages if it meant securing a greater victory in their never-ending war against the keepers. Maybe he should have spent less time studying and learning to fight, and more time among people.
The king shook his head. It was too late to change things now. Michael was a good man. He would soon enough learn to care for his people like a ruler should, Richard was sure.
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(Posted Sat, 06 Dec 2008 02:12)
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