The Templar Chronicles: Freedom's Price

Gawain walked quickly from the kitchens where he had convinced the cook to give him a picnic lunch for two. He had not known if it was going to be as difficult for him to convince the kitchen to give him the extra food, as it had been when Jericho had attempted a similar feat, but the cook was very much on Gawain’s side at this point. Besides, Gawain believed that the cooks had just been displeased to have a Knight around telling them what to do; a civilian like Gawain who had worked hard for long hours in the kitchens to help was another story. He experienced almost no problems whatsoever. The bag of food swayed merrily by his side as he strode out of the compound’s rear door.

The afternoon was amazing, low humidity, mild temperatures, bright sun, a light and comforting breeze; he could not believe just how alive the world seemed to be today. He breathed in the fresh air with relish. The scent was laden with life and a wholesomeness that he believed came from the earth itself. He continued on his way, he had a spring in his step that was alien to his nature. Gawain had never really been carefree or overly happy. It was a welcome change from the usual level of distaste for the daily grind that he felt when setting out for the day. He whistled a golden oldie that he had heard once on the classical music station, it was called “Bright Sunshiny Day” and he thought it most appropriate to the circumstances.

He arrived at the rifle range to meet up with Angela five minutes after he said he would, but there was no hurry, everything was calm and peaceful today. No one on the base had anywhere to be at a specific time, it was as close as the base ever came to being non-military. He walked into the rectangular room that served as the foyer to all the others in this small out building. Angela was not there waiting for him, so he instead went and knocked on the door that led into her apartment. Her voice answered from behind the door, “Be out in a minute.”

“Alright take your time.” He called back and sat down in the chair behind the desk. He was in such a good mood that he was behaving childishly. He bounced his heels off the concrete floor wondering what he should do while he waited. He smiled and rolled around in the wheeled office chair. Spinning and sliding he diverted his attention while he waited. He was very entertained by his own antics until a musical laugh came from behind him.

“So this is what you have been up to then, is it?” She stood in the doorway smiling out at him. He stopped what he was doing at once and stood up in shock. The light from her apartment was shining on her back casting her in a golden glow that partially obscured her features, but he was staring at her, not at the aura that seemed to be surrounding her. He had only ever seen Angela in army regulation, shapeless clothing that did not hint at her true form beneath her body armor and fatigues. Her hair had always been pulled back in a ponytail and he had never seen her wear makeup. What he saw before him now was a woman redone.

She was dressed in a simple but elegant butterscotch colored summer dress that had no sleeves, with cute, open-toed sandals to match. He could see her toes were painted a bright red, which clashed a little with the rest of her clothing, he supposed all the more to catch someone’s attention. Her legs and arms were bare and it was the largest amount of her skin he had ever seen at once, but there was a greater danger. Her dress was designed to keep her cool, and as such showed a fair amount of cleavage. The view was enough that Gawain had to look away quickly in order not to turn beet red. As his eyes moved over her, he could not help but notice that her skin was smooth and unblemished with just the hint of a tan. Her body was shapely and well formed with an underlying grace that her fatigues had never been able to show. He took all this in a moment after turning around, without too much danger of losing control of his hormones.

But his minor success ended when his eyes reached her face. Her hair was unpinned and hung down around her features in a beautiful framing effect. It was down around her ears and cheeks in a swept forward fashion it appeared sharp and defined even though her hair still seemed light and bouncy. He noted all the highlights and colors that naturally blended together that he had been unable to see when her hair had been pulled back into a tight bundle. She had not done a lot with makeup, but he noticed the difference anyway. It was subtle, a little mascara, a small amount of blush, and what appeared to be lip-gloss, but it was an astounding effect. He had thought her beautiful before, but now she was breathtaking. Gawain would have completely lost himself in his appreciation of her beauty, but was distracted by her words.

“Are you alright Gawain?” She took a step toward him concern in her eyes. To the outside observer, the expression on his face was interesting; he had clenched his jaw and tightened his hand over the edge of the chair such that his fingers were white. Some might wonder if he was going to be sick.

It took him a moment before he could respond. He looked away from her and started breathing again. He sat down slowly on the chair again and said, “Just fine, I think I stood up too quickly is all, bit dizzy, be fine in a moment.” He lied, not wanting her to know the truth; the bond between them was too fresh for him to be testing it like that.

“Are you sure?” She said placing her polished fingers on his shoulder trying to look him in the face.

“Oh, yes quite sure.” he looked into her eyes again after bracing his mind; he could not risk another experience like the one that had just passed, and so he was gaining greater mental control over his reactions to being around Angela. It was slow progress, but it was progress. Maybe one day he would be able to look at her without making a fool of himself. “Anyway, where are we going for our picnic?” He stood up, gesturing with the large bag in his hand.

She looked up into his face a moment longer before being convinced that he was all right. “Well I know this wonderful little spot near a lake, it is kind of far, but it is a nice day outside for a walk, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Sounds great, I don’t mind the walk, and it is one of the nicest days out that I have seen in a while.” She switched off the light in her apartment closed the door and locked it. They went outside and she locked the door to the rifle range as well.

“So where to now?” He asked unsure of exactly what she had in mind.

“Follow me.” She said and took off to the north. He followed quickly to catch up, but he had to slow his strides in order not to walk straight on past her. His legs were just too long, and if he had walked at a normal pace, for him anyway, he would have ended up several paces ahead, which he was sure, would have made him look sillier still. They walked in silence for a few minutes taking in the air and the bounty of nature.

Gawain felt that he should comment on her appearance, but he was not sure how best to go about it. “So, no army fatigues today?”

She laughed softly, “Why? Do you think it’s improper for me to wear civilian clothing?”

“No, it’s not that.” He said tripping over his words, “It is just that I noticed how nice you look in regular, clothes and I thought it was a shame that you had to dress in the drab of the Army all the time.”

Her laughter instead into an easy grin, “Well, thank you, Gawain. In truth I don’t often get the chance to wear my civilian clothes, there is no one else to spend time with around here who isn’t also an off-duty soldier. Everyone on base with time off either spends it sleeping or visiting their families. It is a pleasant change from the usual humdrum days I spend around here.”

He was not sure what she exactly meant by humdrum, but he was glad to see her happy given the day and the night before. They fell quiet for a little while longer as they tramped down a little used forest path, which she seemed to know very well despite its obvious disuse. He cast about him for a topic for them to discuss and settled on an obvious though still potentially interesting choice, “So Angela, what is your favorite type of tree?”

“Willow.” She answered instantaneously not even pausing to think. Her response was so rapid it was almost as if she had been waiting for his question.

Gawain looked at her sideways, “That was awful fast. Do you think about these sorts of things often?”

She giggled and sighed, “No, it is just that I have always liked the willow trees. I just haven’t considered many others. Sitting under them is like being under a tent that was made just for you by nature itself. Besides I like bodies of water, and willow trees are always next to them, it seemed a logical choice for me.”

“I see, I guess that makes sense.”

Another moment passed, “And you Gawain? Do you have a favorite type of tree?”

Gawain thought a moment and then answered, “Well to be honest I have spent the last few years cutting down trees with high powered tools, to me the best tree has always been the one that came down the easiest.”

“You don’t sound sure of that anymore.” She stated, catching the underlying doubt in his words.

He looked at her again and saw that she was smiling at him, he smiled back. “Well no I suppose that I do have a new favorite that I have developed over these last few days.”

“Oh, and…?”

“Well, now I think that I might prefer the Redwood tree over all the others.”

Her tone darkened just the slightest amount, “Why the sudden affection for the symbol of the Templar Order?”

“I don’t know, I just think it is an admirable choice for a symbol. Something so strong and enduring, tall and majestic, what isn’t to respect and enjoy?”

“What is your interest in the Templar, Gawain?” She asked curtly and directly. Gawain balked, her insight once again taking him aback. He had not even allowed himself to consider why he felt that yet. He was not sure he was comfortable with what it meant, and more importantly, how Angela would respond. Still, he respected her forthrightness even it was slightly off-putting. He was used to people who smiled at you to your face and later spit venom when your back was turned. Her honesty was refreshing, but he was still bothered by how well she seemed to be able to see into his thoughts and desires. “Well I am very interested in the Templar. One of them saved my life. They are the men and women who run everything, even our lives, and usually protect its people.” She snorted derisively at the last statement. “Besides, I think Jericho is a very interesting man. I…” he searched for the word that described how he felt. Eventually he decided, “… admire him.”

“Well Gawain that is all well and good, but you should be careful how far you allow yourself to get into their world. Do not think that the Templar are above political scheming, backroom deals, and corruption. Many of the Knights in the order are of no more value than a dead dog. They will kill you as soon as look at you and take what your family had in reparations for your ‘sins’.”

He was caught by the sudden vehemence and venom of her words, but did not question her further on the subject. He did not want to darken the day any more than this little conversation already had. “Well let’s put that aside for now.” He said in interest of keeping the peace. He waited a while as they continued walking in silence. When he felt an appropriate amount of time had passed, he continued with a new topic of conversation, “You say you like water, have you ever been to the ocean?”

She smiled quickly at the question; she was willing to move away from the bitter turn that the conversation had taken as well, “Yes, once. My family and I vacationed in Judah for a summer. They have some of the nicest beaches down there, have you ever been to the ocean Gawain?”

“No, what is it like?”

“Too many poems and words have been written to describe something as magnificent as the ocean, and I am neither poet nor an accomplished author so I will not attempt to copy their deeds. What I will say though is that it is large, mind-bogglingly large and it seems to stretch on forever. The wind and the sand are especially memorable, the breeze continuously comes in off the sea, washing you with its comforting embrace, the sand heats your feet and if you’re not careful burns them. The smell of the sea is something so profound, that one has to experience it in order to talk about it.” Her voice was dreamy and far away, immersed in a pleasurable memory. “The sound of the waves crashing against the land mixes with the call of birds. Children and dogs frolic and play, and adults sit, talk, and make sandwiches for the children who they will soon be calling. The kids come back complaining of the interruption covered in sand and dirt that gets into everything. I love the beach and the ocean Gawain; it is one of the best places I have ever been.”

Gawain smiled, enjoying her romanticism almost as much as she enjoyed her nostalgia, “Well I can’t really tell as I have never read poetry, let alone any about the sea, but I think you did pretty well. Maybe we can go there together, someday.”

“I would like that very much indeed Gawain. Maybe one day…” They relapsed into silent walking once more, each one deep in their own thoughts. They carried on like this for almost fifteen minutes, and then Angela stumbled over something in the ground. She cried out and threw out her arms in front of her to stop her fall. Gawain was quick and managed to catch her. He righted her gently again.

“Are you alright?” Gawain asked breathing heavily more from the sudden scare than from exertion.

“Just fine, just fine. Thank you for that.”

“No problem, anytime.”

“Uh Gawain?”

“Yes?”

“You can let go of my arm now.” She said smiling at him.

“Oh, sorry.” He quickly removed and dropped his hand. He had not even realized that he was maintaining the contact overlong until she had spoken. Now that he had however, he could not un-realize it. His hands burned with the memory of her soft skin, his nose still filled with the fragrance of her light perfume. He was not breathing heavily from the little scare anymore; he felt his face flushing with the sudden heat that rose in him.

“That is just fine.” She patted him on the shoulder and smiled again. He smiled back. He could not help it. Her smile was infectious. She stopped suddenly and said, “Ah, here we are.” Gawain had not noticed that they had even approached a lake; his eyes had been focused on her or on the ground. He tore his eyes from one vision of beauty to take in another.

The lake was sprawled out in front of them stretching out and around so far that Gawain could not see where it ended. The banks were lined with trees and ferns. The water was placid, dark and reflected the bright blue sky and the white fluffy clouds above them. Birds sung in the trees nearby and he could see large fishers and herons out in the water and on the banks hunting, as they always seemed to be. It was such an inspiring sight that he forgot everything else about the world for a minute as his eyes tried to capture every detail they could.

He may have continued on this way unhindered for several minutes more, but Angela spoke reclaiming his attention, “Nice, isn’t it?” Gawain snapped out of his reverie and looked at her. She smiled at him again, “I thought you might like this place. I always have. To me … I don’t know. It just seems like a place to be alone, or with someone special, what do you think?”

“Yes, it is very nice.” his response felt crude for the scene before him, but he did not know how else to describe it. Besides it did not really matter, he was more pleased that she referred to him with words like ‘someone special’. She motioned that he should follow her to the right along the banks of the lake. He did without question looking between the lake and the sky and then once and a while to her to see when they were going to stop. They walked for a while until they were under the shade of the trees nearby. She seemed to be looking for something in particular but he could not guess what it was, his focus engrossed in the natural beauty around them until he almost did trip over her when she came to a halt.

She turned back to face him, “Well here is as dry and clear a spot as I can find or see nearby, what do you think?”

He looked around him for a second and noted the spot she had selected appeared quite acceptable. He looked at Angela and then at the bag in his hand, “Did you think that I would come completely unprepared?” She looked quizzically. He answered by taking out the blanket that had lain atop the food throughout their walk.

Understanding crept into her eyes softening her countenance, and she smiled again. It was the most he had ever seen her smile in one day and he felt a surge of pride for having been the one to put them there. She responded, “Of course you would remember. To be honest I would not have thought to bring one of those. It is warm out and my mind would not make the practical jump.”

He smiled at her, “Well lucky for you I was brought up in the fields rather than in the big city. Out here we have a little more practical sense than they do.” He gestured with his hand sweeping it in an arc, intending to point at any of those cities out there, but the motion only really took in the lake. She chuckled appreciatively at the comment as he spread out the blanket. She sat down almost immediately after he was done straightening it out.

She took off her shoes, placed her arms behind her and leaned back. She sighed in contentment breathing deep the fresh, warm air. Gawain sat down next to her and began unpacking the lunch setting the food between them. Gawain felt like a kid at the lunch table again. He was surprised and pleased with what the cook had given him, sandwiches, chipped potatoes, fresh fruit, and cold-cut vegetables, not to mention even putting in two thermoses filled with fruit juice. She undid the wax paper wrap around the sandwich he handed her and dug in with gusto.

He watched her amused for a few moments before commenting, “My, my, you were hungry weren’t you?”

She finished chewing the large bite she had taken and swallowed. “Yes. I did not have breakfast this morning and I was really quite hungry through the whole walk here.”

“Ah you did not have to skip breakfast just to get all prettied up for me.” He laughed and began to eat his own sandwich.

She looked at him ponderously; the sandwich poised a few inches from her mouth. She lowered it and said, “Maybe not, but I did want to get pretty for you just the same.” Gawain was surprised, but his smile covered it well.

He swallowed the bite of sandwich he had taken prematurely, focused on his effort to respond to this all too welcome statement, “Well, I am glad you did anyway.”

She smiled and tapped her toes together idly, “Me too.” He grinned in response to her clear enjoyment in being barefoot. He considered joining her in this state for a moment but then decided against it. They had walked her after all, and he did not want her to have to smell his feet while she ate. She looked at him seriously again, “So Gawain, I do believe you owe me a story.” She took another bite out of her sandwich and looked at him expectantly.

He was momentarily confused until he remembered the last few things they had discussed before he went home the past evening. He was hesitant, “Are you sure you want to hear that story now. It is not happy, and we were having such a pleasant time.”

She took a sip of the juice out of one of the thermoses and set it down. “No I want to hear it. Besides, tomorrow you might not get the chance; we don’t really know when the soldiers are going to return.”

“You say that as if you weren’t one.”

“I don’t always think of myself as a G.I. Jane if that is what you mean, but don’t change the subject.”

She had caught him again, “Alright, if you are sure.”

“Yes I’m sure. I’m willing to listen as long as you’re willing to tell.” She smiled as he eyed her. She had deliberately used his own words from the previous evening. He smiled back pleased at her wit.

“Alright then, here it goes.” The second retelling of his less-than-pleasant childhood was easier than the first had been. He was more comfortable than he had been with Jericho. Angela was the only one here, unlike the crowded lunchroom. Here next to the lake it was quiet and pleasant, and she paid close attention to everything he said. She reacted appropriately at the right times of the story, sneering when he told how his friends had abandoned him, and looking sorrowful when he related the fall of his mother into her addiction. Angela was so easy to talk to that Gawain did not even notice that his voice remained light and airy throughout the entire subject as if it were no big deal. He just could not feel sad when he was around her, and so his telling did not really represent the emotions he had felt during his ordeal.

When he had finished the sun had moved further to the left in the sky, but not much. This version of his story had been shorter in overall length, but more detailed than the first. This time he had managed to avoid stumbling over every few words, and struggling with the memories and expressions that he wanted to use. This time’s retelling came out overall as a tragic but coherent personal history, rather than a surge and outpouring of pent up emotions. She waited patiently for him to complete his narration, eating one of the apples that had been in the bag.

When he had finished speaking, she waited an extra few seconds just to be sure. She tossed the finished apple core into the bag and said, “Gawain you are just as damaged as I am.” Her voice was quiet and passionate and she was not looking at him, but rather staring into a spot in the lake, as if she were trying to fathom its depths. He had not felt any of the traumatic sorrow he had when he had told this story to Jericho until Angela spoke those words. Looking at her soft, beautiful face, in profile, with the light shining from behind him revealing all of her glory, he thought his heart would burst. His eyes started to water and he looked away from her quickly.

His sudden motion must have distracted her because she looked back at him. “Gawain?”

He did not look back at her, “What?”

“Don’t be ashamed to cry, you know I have seen the dark side of life too. You and I both know what it means to be hurt so deeply…that… well, so deeply that there is nothing to say to make it any better, or to describe what it was like while it was happening to you.” He looked back at her; her words had touched something within him, something that no one else had ever had. She knew him, knew his past better than anyone else he had ever known. She had lived it too. Her words touched him so much so, that he wanted to thank her. He was instead confronted with a new situation upon turning his head back around to face her. Gawain had not felt her drawing closer, but Angela was now inches from him, her face closer than she had ever been before. Her blue eyes brimming with tears of sympathy and affection were so close now that he could see himself reflected in them.

She whispered softly, but it was loud this close to him, “I know you’ve been hurt, I know you’ve been sad, you’ve been lonely but come. Let me at least dull some of the pain.” She placed one hand behind his neck. Gawain did not move, paralyzed under her touch. He could feel the panic beginning to form in his chest, he did not know what to do, this had never once happened to him before now. She drew closer to him. He could not hear his heartbeat, but he could hear the sound of his shallow uneven breaths. Gawain was struck that he no longer seemed able to hear the rest of the world outside of the square meter they shared. He tried to control himself but he did not get much time to think before being interrupted. Her face drew closer and closer, her eyes never leaving his. He could see her lips beginning to move and pucker, their soft gloss enticing him, his nose filled with the scent of her vanilla perfume.

The first contact was so soft and careful that he barely felt it. She brushed her lips over his own, and then she kissed him, gently, softly. She conveyed all of her sympathy, all of her understanding, all of her passion with that small touch. She only stayed for a second but it seemed much longer to Gawain. When she pulled away, he could at last hear his heart again, it was pounding like a drum and he was worried that she would observe his agitation and disapprove. She opened her eyes and looked at him, her eyes held nothing but compassion; she tried to gauge his reaction, not sure that her advance would be welcome. Gawain stared into her eyes, looked into those wells of blue, looked through them to the soul that hid behind them. What he saw…what he saw he could not describe, all he knew was that he wanted to see those same eyes for the rest of his life. He wanted to see that same look in them forever, a look of compassion, a look of companionship, and he dared to hope, love. But maybe he was getting a little ahead of the moment.

He lifted his arms, grabbed her just as she had been holding him, and pulled her towards him. He kissed her passionately and fiercely. He was not sure if anything he was doing was right, he had let his instincts and body take over where his mind would have failed. He kissed her and she kissed him, the embrace was desperately heated. Each of them tried to draw out and kill the other’s pain with the welter of emotions that overtook them. The kiss ended with both of them breathless and sighing. Neither one let go of the other, they just stared into one another’s eyes.

Eventually, they released their close embrace, shifting so that they sat leaning against one another looking out over the calm lake. Gawain weaved his hand through hers and as soon as he did, she gripped his hand tight. So tightly at first that he was afraid that she was going to cut off his circulation, but she soon relaxed her fingers and was content just with the contact. He thought to himself, dazzled at what had just happened.

He just took it all in, content with life for the first time in a long time. The lake, the sound of the birds, the brilliant sun, and the warm and beautiful woman at his side, if there is a Heaven I am sure that this scene was crafted there. They passed several minutes, maybe hours that way, quiet, just enjoying being. Gawain’s mind began to wander through the past week’s events. The amount of things that had happened to him in rapid succession was staggering. A lumberjack from the sticks ending up in the middle of a battle between a Knight of God and Demon, blood and sorrow, it was all so strange. All these seemed trivial now when he compared them to the fact that Angela was with him, here and now, maybe everything does happen for a reason. He smiled at his own thought and placed his other hand on top of their two joined ones, relishing the contact.

Jericho stepped out of the command tent twenty minutes after all the other officers had. They were off to enjoy their lunch before a difficult fight, their plans set, and there was no more reason to talk. Jericho was content, the sudden guilt that had set upon him earlier in the day had passed, and now he was simply taking in everything around him in a slow, deliberate fashion. He smelled the breeze as it brushed over his face from the West, simple, refreshing, calming. God’s own breath of salvation. He smiled sadly, and walked towards the lunch line himself. He was not feeling particularly hungry, but he wanted to be nearby when Grom and O’Riley finished. He stood watching the, as yet, still oblivious soldiers laughing and joking with each other as they scattered about the rolling fields upon which they were encamped. He smiled at them, pleased to see them happy. He watched O’Riley and Grom sit next to each other in silence, broken only by their eating. Their fear was so subtle, so well concealed, that no one else noticed it, but Jericho. It was in the tension of their postures, the way the leaned towards each other without touching, the furtive glances they exchanged when they thought no one was looking. They loved each other, were worried about one another’s wellbeing, and it showed. Jericho suddenly felt lonely, very lonely indeed. All his friends were far away, and his family had died ages ago, those who were still related to him were so distant he did not know how to relate to them anymore. There was no one here to share the moment with, no one to empathize, and no one to hold him up.

As these thoughts began to overwhelm his mind and sap his determination, he felt a small nudge against his shoulder. He looked and there was Charlemagne. The horse had known somehow, either by his own natural gifts, or by the Grace of God. He had known. The horse stood there one dark eye looking into Jericho’s own. He had no idea what the horse’s actual thoughts were, but he had a good idea. He placed his large mailed hand onto the horse’s flank and stepped in closer to lean against his side. He ran his fingers through the horse’s mane and patted the charger’s side leaving his hand there when he had finished the motion. Jericho prayed his thanks to God once more for the gift of the Knights’ four legged companions, and then whispered so only Charlemagne could hear, “Thank you my friend, thank you.” The horse nickered in response softly, and so the two of them passed the next half an hour watching the men eat, drink, and laugh.

When Grom and O’Riley were finished, they came over directly to Jericho. Jericho looked into Charlemagne’s eye once more, and then moved to meet the pair. Grom looked at Jericho expectantly until Jericho nodded his assent. As soon as he had, the Captain turned and pulled out the portable radio from his waist. He barked a quick order into the machine, “Sound the assembly.” Grom replaced the radio on his hip and stood on Jericho’s right, O’Riley on his left. Not two seconds later a loud and quick series of drumbeats broke out all over the camp. The tune was not the same call-to-arms, as they would use if they were under attack, but the soldiers still knew that they were meant to hurry. All around them the soldiers dropped what they were doing, running will-nilly about the camp to return plates and fall in, each desperately trying not to be the last one assembled in front of the Captains and the Knight.

When the mad dash had ended with the ceasing of the sounding of the drums, the soldiers stood before them in neat, orderly lines waiting to hear what their officers had to tell them. Jericho looked at all the faces, so calm, so attentive. They were as ready as they were ever going to be, Jericho moved forward two steps. The silence and stillness were palpable. All the soldiers wanted to know what was next. Jericho sighed lightly and then projected his voice so that all in range of it could hear him clearly, “Comrades, fellow soldiers, we will be moving out within the hour. Our enemy has been found out. We know where he is hiding, and we are going to smoke him out and bring him to justice. Your Captains will lead you to attack his final defenders, and I will be confronting the beast itself directly. Most likely, you will be facing much the same manner of foes that we faced here earlier this morning. Though with demons, we can never be over prepared or cautious.”

He paused to study the faces of the soldiers in front line, each one of them with some different manner of resolve setting into their eyes. A small smile spread over his mouth, “Whatever may come, I am pleased to have served with each and every one of you. Honored, and proud to live and die with good people such as yourselves. Now if you would so honor me, would you please kneel?” The question hung in the air. He honestly wanted an answer, but none of the soldiers was going to break rank and move without permission.

A moment passed, and then another in awkward silence as the soldiers looked between each other seeing what the others would do, no one wanting to act first. Jericho doubted that this would ever have ended if it had not been for O’Riley. She walked took a step forward and placed her hand on his shoulder. She spoke loud and clearly so that the soldiers would be able to catch the meaning of her words. “I will pray with you, oh Knight of God, if you will pray for me and mine.”

Grom immediately followed suit placing his hand on Jericho’s other shoulder, “And for me.” Jericho knelt with them; he took one of the Captains’ hands in his own. The majority of the soldiers quickly moved forward as, kneeling into a semicircle around Jericho and the Captains. Though, a few simply walked away to assemble their gear, their heads lowered, as if to ward off any gaze that might fall upon them. Those soldiers closest to O’Riley and Grom held their hands as well, protocol and rank forgotten for the moment, all those in the circle linked hands forming a human chain that radiated out from Jericho.

Jericho bowed his head and the gathered followed suit. He spoke softly but clearly, he was not overly careful to ensure that everyone heard. The prayer was what mattered; he began with an ancient proverb from as far back as their histories went and then continued. “Blessed is the Lord, my strength who teaches my fingers to fight and my hands to war, Amen.” There was a whispered chorus of amens around him. “Father,” He looked up so that his face was towards the sky, his voice laden with emotion. “We, who are gathered here before you today, acknowledge you as the Lord our God. We praise your holy name, and revere you as the one true King of Kings and Lord of Lords. We will follow you into the maw of Hell itself if you should lead us there. Today we march to battle, our lives and our fates are yours to bend as you see fit. We will not pray for safety or for victory as those are but part of your plan for this day. Instead, we ask only that we live these next few hours well, and that should we die, that we die for our country and for you, and if it is at all possible, that we may pass painlessly. We are yours oh God, we will follow. We will follow, to whatever end you may choose.” And he concluded much the same way as he began, with an overused but still apt proverb, “And father, though we walk through the valley under the shadow of death, we shall fear no evil for you are with us. Amen.”

After all those around him had finished their own prayers and were looking at Jericho once more, he spoke. His voice began softly, but picked up in intensity as he pronounced all of his final commands “Please arise and gather your gear. Pack up the camp and saddle up. Now is the hour of the soldiers of Zion!” The soldiers leapt to their feet and quickly scattered towards the various tents of the camp to begin tearing them down. The two Captains and the Knight rose after them only more slowly. He and the Captains walked towards the APCs. Charlemagne followed close behind them.

“Fine speech, now what do we do?” Grom said to Jericho.

“Just keep true to yourselves,” Jericho spoke with a smile, “This day will not be won or lost by anything we three do. All is in the hands of the Lord.”

“I am not sure I am willing to surrender all our fates just yet.” Grom said grimly not really convinced that the Knight was in the proper mind frame for a contest of this caliber.

“What more can we do, Captain?” Jericho looked at the man his eyes flashing dangerously. “We have laid down the best plans that we could based on the knowledge that we have, there is nothing else for it but to trust in God and push through. I find your lack of faith disturbing Captain Grom.”

“What are you implying knight?” Grom said his hand clenching suddenly on the handle of the mace on his hip.

“Now, now boys play nice.” O’Riley had had enough and spoken up to stop the two high-strung men from saying or doing anything that they might regret in the future.

Jericho and Grom looked down at the small woman who was smiling up at them. A moment passed of uncertainty and then Jericho dropped his eyes, chagrined. He looked up, “Grom.” The Captain’s gaze, no longer angered met his own. He continued, “I am sorry for my harsh words, you are a responsible man. I, I just have been a little upset this morning.”

“That is alright Jericho; we all are a little upset right now.” Grom shrugged, “So what do you say we get this ball a-rolling?” The two Captains looked at Jericho for confirmation. Jericho nodded his assent and the two moved in opposite directions to finish breaking camp. It did not take long. The camp was a temporary establishment from the beginning and the soldiers were able to tear down and pack all the gear back into the APCs in thirty minutes time. The foot soldiers climbed into the vehicles with the lieutenants and Captains. The mounted troops rallied around Charlemagne and Jericho, who sat proud and tall on the back of the horse. His armor glinted like a beacon in the sun, and all those who stood near him felt confident of the success of their attack.

When he was sure that they were all there and ready to go, Jericho pronounced only one word. Loud and forceful, it rose above the plains to reverberate in the air, “RIDE!” With that, he took off at a quick canter to the south. The APCs roared to life and along with the rest of the cavalry moved to catch up. It should take us some time to get there but not long. God be with us this day that we might live to serve you on another one.