The Good Knight Kiss Read online

  “You are a beautiful animal. You look so strong and full of life. Why are you being tormented working as a puller of trinkets?”

  The man walked toward the merchant, tapped him on the shoulder, and asked, “Excuse me, how much for that fine animal?”

  The merchant was attempting to sell something of no value for much more than what it was worth to an unwary patron. “What? I’m busy. Come back later.”

  “I asked how much for your horse,” the man repeated.

  “And I said I was busy. Now get away from me or I will be forced to …” The merchant stopped talking as he turned and came face to chest with the huge knight.

  “Forced to what?” the knight asked in a much different tone than before.

  “Um, err …”

  “That’s what I thought. Now, you can adopt a more civil tone of voice with me, or we can proceed down a path I’m sure you will not enjoy. It’s your choice.”

  Distracted by the huge knight, the merchant failed to observe his patron seize the opportunity to snatch one of the silver spoons off the table and walk away.

  The merchant heeded the knight’s advice and changed his tone. “I’m sorry, sir. I must have mistaken you for some wretch off the street, but obviously I was mistaken.”

  “Indeed. How much for your horse?”

  “Why do you want it?”

  “It does not matter why. All that matters is that you ask a fair price or I may come to the conclusion that you are a cheater and swindler. As a duly appointed knight, it would certainly be my duty to inform the baron of this town of that fact. We all know what happens to such criminals in this country.”

  The merchant mulled this over for a few moments and came to the conclusion that this horse was stupid and stubborn anyway. Ever seeking a profit, the merchant tried his luck. “This is a fine animal, a strong beast. I will be hard pressed to find another like him.”

  “Her. This fine animal is a female.”

  The merchant shook his head in agreement. “Of course—her, sir. Even better, she will produce splendid offspring. Not only that, but I will now either have to find another beast or pull the cart myself. I’m afraid the price … the compensation for such a great loss may be too high even for you.”

  “How much?”

  “One hundred fifty gold pieces!”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Ninety, and I cannot go any lower.”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “Impossible.”

  “This horse has been abused and treated unfairly for so long. I am offering a fair deal.”

  “That’s the way I got it.”

  “Her. Not it.”

  “Whatever. Either way, ninety gold pieces is my final offer.”

  “I see. I thought you might be difficult,” Daniel said, moving toward the merchant.

  “Wait. Wait. Forty?” the merchant offered, waving his hands.

  “Twenty-five.” Daniel moved a step closer.

  “Sold! You drive a hard bargain, knight.”

  The merchant received the twenty-five gold pieces in his left hand and put out his right as a gesture of good will. Daniel looked at him with disgust. The merchant felt it best to back away before he pushed his luck one too many times.

  Since she was trussed to the cart of merchant wares, Macha only heard an exchange of words behind her. She smelled the big man nearing her and felt his large, gentle hand rubbing her side. She also felt the chains and harness removed. Macha felt relieved. It seemed as though they never were off. Her skin and coat were worn down by the constant rubbing of the rough leather. The sores burned, but it was a small price to pay to feel the relief of the old leather. She observed the face of the large man through her big, brown, almond-shaped eyes and noticed drops of water running from his eyes and down his cheeks as he removed the bit from her mouth.

  “Don’t worry. Daniel is here now,” he said. “You will be strong and healthy again.”

  The three companions crashed into the forest and found the trail that led back home to Lough Inch. The tall and thick trees of the forest were a magnificent blend of pine, oak, birch, and aspen. The extensive forest protected many species of animals, as well as the occasional band of highwaymen. This forest was similar to many of the forests throughout Ireland. They looked beautiful in all seasons, each of which had its unique qualities. The forest was filled with the loudest sounds during summer. Many people traveled the forest to get from one village to the other when the roads allowed for ease of footing. Disorganized highwaymen roved the forests and used them for protection. They posed no real threat to any other than the lone traveler. In autumn, the trees released their leaves and needles, which floated gently to the ground and trails below. The covering muffled the sounds of the hoofbeats of horses and the wheels of carriages. The winter, of course, caused many of the deciduous trees to sleep. Some animals joined the trees in hibernation waiting for the call of spring. As a youth, Daniel had traveled all the forests of Ireland while under the tutelage of nontraditional experts.

  Daniel pushed Macha, knowing her endurance would not falter for a while. Balor could keep pace just as long. Macha and Balor both felt the tension from their master and pushed themselves even harder. The sun quickly descended below the horizon. Soon the night would reign upon the entire land. Both horse and dog could easily traverse the terrain of the dark forest with their keen eyesight to guide them. Macha certainly would not allow her rider to fall, but something about the night always bothered Daniel. Before darkness enveloped them, Daniel paused on the edge of a clearing in the middle of the forest and hastily built a fire. The fire appeared disproportionate to the area and size of the party. He had intentionally built the fire so. He required light all around him.

  Macha and Balor did not comprehend why complete darkness terrified Daniel, but it did not matter to them. Macha just wanted to stay close to her master and protect him in the only way she knew how. Balor owed Daniel the same level of respect and loyalty, especially considering the peculiar circumstance in which they had met.

  As one of six pups in a litter born to a stray, there was not much use for him or his litter mates in the small Alsatian town bordering Germany and France. The townspeople tried to rid the area of all stray animals, which they believed became harbingers of evil and the spies of witches. Other than just being slain by the local guards’ swords, the strays faced a threat from the Burgermeister, who considered it a more profitable venture to sell the strays to the local arena for entertainment. Unfortunately for the strays, the amusement consisted of anything from being sparring partners for juveniles learning the basics of the arena to serving as prey for any number of exotic animals brought home as trophies of conquest.

  Balor and his litter mates sat cramped in a cage just outside the arena. Wrought with hunger, they received just enough rations to keep them alive. The pups whined from hunger, thirst, or lying and sitting in their own filth.

  On foot, Daniel led Macha through the crowd toward the arena. He had heard rumors of this arena and had to see for himself if they held any truth. It never ceased to disgust Daniel the inhumanity that humans inflicted on the creatures of this world. Now, as he approached the arena, it became all too clear that the rumors were true. Cages contained various exotic and local animals destined as entertainment for the masses. Daniel’s temper grew, and Macha felt his anger. She pressed her face closer so that he could feel her; he lifted his hand to her face and patted her cheek.

  “Don’t worry, Macha. I’m not going to do anything rash, but don’t you think that these beasts are being treated harshly? They certainly deserve to have a fighting chance.” With that last statement, a sly grin appeared on Daniel’s face.

  Daniel released Macha’s reins so he could work quicker and more efficiently, but Macha remained close to her master. Daniel walked up and down the menagerie of exotic and local animals and unlocked their cages. First one and then another beast pushed open their cage doors. As the creatures realized that the unlocked doors of their enclosures led to freedom, they exited. Soon, the holding area filled with lions, tigers, wolves, boars, dogs, bears, and strange birds—all hungry and angry. Daniel may not have saved all of those beautiful animals, and many even died that day, but they died free and fighting. Daniel nodded with approval as the large predators sought vengeance on their tormentors. The throng of onlookers panicked, and Daniel left the mayhem.

  On the edge of the town, as Daniel proceeded to mount Macha, he heard tiny footsteps from behind. He turned and expected to confront a town official or, worse, an arena guard, but there was no one. He looked down, and sitting at his feet was one of the mastiff puppies he had set free. A smile appeared on Daniel’s face, and he knew the pup had just selected him. He reached down, picked up the pup, and placed him on the saddle.

  Balor sat close to Daniel and felt the warmth of the fire. The smell of the hardtack Daniel carried with him caused the mastiff to drool, and Daniel broke off a piece to share with his friend. Macha busied herself grazing on the perimeter of the meadow. She still kept a wary eye and ear for any danger. Daniel’s two companions worked favorably together to protect their master. Macha always assumed the responsibility of the outer defense and early warning, while Balor protected the inner circle and remained close to Daniel while he slept. Soon after Daniel and Balor devoured their meals, both settled down for what would be a restless night filled with tossing, turning, and nightmares of what had happened to Cassandra. Balor whimpered every time Daniel called out, empathizing with his restlessness. Macha would wake from her light sleep to quickly determine whether there was an immediate threat. With none detected, she would let out a ha
rrumph and go back to sleep. Throughout the night, Daniel continued to toss and turn, and Macha and Balor remained ever vigilant. Although both companions appeared to sleep soundly, upon closer examination both remained alert. Their ears were in constant motion, picking up every sound the forest made available to them.

  Daniel woke early, before sunrise. He took account of all of his equipment and looked for her. There she was, as always, finishing her nightly trek across sky. The full moon always comforted Daniel, and he did not truly understand or appreciate the power she had over every living thing on earth until Cassandra had showed him years earlier. He had to get to her before any of his nightmares came true. Balor stepped from the forest edge and made his way to Daniel. Daniel petted his friend and gave a low whistle for Macha to join them. As she arrived, Daniel stepped close to say good morning. He then broke off another piece of hardtack for Balor. Daniel smothered the fire with dirt and saddled Macha for the ride ahead.

  The sun continued to rise, and the higher it rose, the more light appeared, helping Daniel feel comfortable away from the fire. He pressed Macha. The huge warhorse had extraordinary speed and endurance, which could be matched by Balor. The three had often traveled in this manner from encampment to battlefield over the years, but the horse and dog felt that Daniel’s anxiety this time was due to something other than the excitement of battle.

  The grief Daniel suffered prevented him from recognizing the pain from his blistered hands.

  CHAPTER 2

  Defeated, Daniel sat on the ground with his back against the magnificent oak, his legs bent and forearms resting on his knees. His head was bent toward his chest, his shoulders shook uncontrollably, and he muttered, “She’s dead. She’s dead. You killed her. You killed her. I killed her!”

  Both horse and dog loved their knight and tried their best to comfort him. Macha nuzzled her master, and Balor ran up and licked the tears from Daniel’s face. A raven circled overhead and perched on a branch about twenty feet above the ground. With great interest, the raven observed the goings-on.

  As the crowd of onlookers grew, the men who had pulled the knight from the destroyed cottage melted into the throng. A few women stepped forward to assist and comfort Daniel, but Macha and Balor moved in to intercept them. Daniel did not receive any assistance from the villagers that day. An unshod little girl stepped through the crowd unnoticed. Macha and Balor parted and let her pass between them toward their master. She wore a frayed, green dress with a ringlet of flowers around her head. A single ornament dangled from a necklace about her neck as she bent and tended to Daniel’s hands. She applied a salve and dressed his wounds. As she finished the last wrap, the little girl whispered unintelligible words to Daniel. She placed her hand on the knight’s shoulder and comforted him. Daniel’s physical pain subsided, but his mental anguish lingered.

  As Daniel lifted his head, he spoke, “The love of my life is gone. She is dead. I should have stayed. I could have protected her. She was so beautiful and innocent. She never hurt anyone or anything. She was perfect—a saint.”

  The villagers murmured derogatory comments, and a self-appointed spokesman stepped forward, interrupting the Opal Knight’s remorse. “How dare you speak of that witch as if she were a princess! She was not a saint! She was not innocent! She was evil!”

  Daniel simmered and stood to his full height and towered over the villagers around him. The little girl rose and stepped back, thus clearing a straight path from the knight to the mob. He was a full head taller than the stoutest man in the crowd. Several paces behind Daniel, the huge warhorse and battle dog moved toward the village mob in seismic rhythm with the knight’s steps. The mob knew the capabilities of the knight when he was in a good mood as well as when enraged. The Opal Knight appeared as a giant from ancient times compared to the spokesman. As the knight approached, everyone nearby heard his knuckles crack as he clenched his fists tighter and tighter. The mob realized its mistake and backed away. Injured and unarmed, Daniel easily outmatched any of the villagers. Considering his warhorse and battle dog, those in the mob convinced themselves that their wives or children were calling them home. They left the self-appointed spokesman to face his fate alone.

  Daniel stopped inches from the spokesman and bent over so that he was eye to eye with him. “There are several options I have at my disposal. I could strangle you. I could pummel your body with my fists until you forget your name. I could let my friends here loose on you. But you are not worth my time or my energy, you piece of dung.”

  The spokesman shook uncontrollably, realizing how close he had come to being ripped apart and fed to the knight’s dog. He felt something warm on his legs, looked down, and discovered that he had involuntarily relieved himself. He then watched in fear as the massive dog stepped inches from his chest, snarled, bared his teeth, lifted his right rear leg, and relieved himself on the spokesman as well.

  The knight turned and headed out of town toward the ancient ruins on the hill on the outskirts of the village. Macha and Balor followed and kept vigilant watch over their master. The raven flew ahead as if it understood the Opal Knight’s destination.

  For centuries, the locals had referred to the ancient circle on the outskirts of the village as the Mound, and Daniel headed toward it. He walked with a purpose driven by anger. However, the wind shifted, and the aroma of the burning embers fueled by the remains of the cottage filled his nostrils. His pace slowed. His shoulders slumped, and he collapsed in defeat. Daniel pounded the ground and cried in despair. He slouched over and dragged himself through the muddy road. Neither of his companions had ever seen their master in such a state. Confused and concerned, Macha paced in a circle, while Balor crawled next to the knight. Daniel soon stopped dragging himself and laid face down in the brown, soupy mud. Balor rested his chin on Daniel’s back. The sky darkened, and the clouds swirled. Shortly, rain came down in heavy drops, pounding the three friends. Macha and Balor endured the rain. They would not leave Daniel. He continued to cry even as puddles formed around and under him.

  Daniel’s sobbing ebbed, but he still lay there in the muddy puddle of water mixed with his sweat and tears. He felt a slight tug at his arm. At first, he thought Balor or Macha was pulling at him, but he felt the grip of small fingers, not teeth. The grip seemed to be that of a small person—a woman or child—and it felt strong yet gentle. The small hand pulled Daniel until he was on all fours. As he rose, the fire opal attached to the leather strap placed around his neck so many years ago dangled outside of his shirt. Daniel grasped the opal and felt the energy, emotions, and memories connected with it. He heard a slight whisper that demanded, “Get up, knight! Your armor is dented, not broken.”

  Although his crying had subsided, irregular bouts of remorseful weeping crept to the surface, and the sobbing would start over. With the aid of the small hand, Daniel lifted himself to his knees and surveyed his surroundings. Balor sat nearby, and Macha circled the three. Because of the extreme sorrow of losing his love and the somber thoughts brought on from the crying, Daniel did not consider asking the boy’s name, where he came from, or how the boy had approached him without warning from Balor and Macha. Balor never took to strangers right away, especially those who approached his master without being introduced; however, the presence of the boy calmed even the suspicious mastiff.

  The child walked around and faced Daniel. Since Daniel knelt, the boy faced Daniel eye to eye. Daniel peered deeply into the child’s eyes. The eyes told one everything he or she needed to know; they expressed happiness, sadness, anger, deceit, truth—the entire gambit of emotions and thoughts. One had to have received training to delve deep into the mind and soul behind the glimmer of the eyes. Daniel had received this specialized training a few years after meeting her. This particular training had prevented many misunderstandings in the past. Because he was so adept at this art, generals and kings often brought Daniel in to resolve arguments before they escalated into regional conflicts. People often misinterpreted words and deeds, but the eyes never lied. The eyes always told the truth. Daniel continued to look past the boy’s gray eyes, beyond the innocence of youth, but he could not push any deeper than the surface of those eyes. He had the eyes of a boy, but not.