The Reformation Wars: A Hero's Peace

Chapter 4

Nathan held onto the scabbard of his sword as he dismounted his aging horse, so as not to poke the animal's ribs on the way down. When his feet touched the ground and rustled blades of grass, he turned around and patted the gelding's silky gray back. After taking the time to feed the horse a treat of celery stalks, he tied him to a pole, leaving enough slack for grazing to remain possible.

That done, Nathan walked along a weathered stone wall belonging to the prison in the midst of Monterayne's capital, or as Princess Kate always insisted on calling it, the "criminal confinement facility".

As he made his way to the front entrance several yards down, a biting breeze swept down a nearby alleyway, causing the dark-skinned knight to pull his ceremonial robe tighter around himself. Its scarlet color was relatively unique among the knights, given the rarity of his brethren in the Raskan discipline—a swordsmanship style given to an unwavering focus on attack and overwhelming the enemy with speed and power. Tao was one of only a handful of knights whose robes matched Nathan's, and Tao was hardly a typical Raskan himself, given he'd also studied several other styles.

Nathan stepped over the threshold and into the prison's reception area. Without hesitation, he approached the most prominent piece of furniture in the room, a desk belonging to the visitations coordinator. Today, the man filling that role was a slight youth with incredibly thin hair and a massive nose as if to compensate.

"You know what I'm here for." Nathan said simply, eyeing the shelf of hourglasses at the coordinator's left hand. An assortment of sizes stood at the ready there, to serve various lengths of visits.

"Maximum length, Sir Korynn?" The coordinator asked as he wriggled a quill pen over a small piece of parchment.

"Yes, please."

Nathan watched as the young man rose from his seat and snatched up an hourglass of the largest size—a full hour. He pushed the parchment upon which he'd written Nathan's name over to an empty side of his desk and placed the hourglass atop it. Next, he called for a guard to escort Nathan to the underground chambers, where the more despised criminals were confined.

Nathan followed the armored guard quietly, mind too occupied in anticipating his upcoming visit to attempt initiating conversation. Soon, they reached the bottom of the stairs, where the darkness grew enough the escort was forced to grab a torch to light their way.

When they reached the desired spot, the escort handed the torch over to Nathan before opening up the door so he could enter the outer portion of the cell. Nathan hardly noticed the creak of the outer door closing behind him, so focused was he on squinting into the darkness to see the one he sought.

Nathan came to a stop at a second door farther in the cell, barring the inner half from the outer part. Under the light of his flickering torch, he peered into the darkness. His heart pounded in anticipation as he waited for the woman he loved to reveal herself.

Soon, he saw her in the soft glow of torchlight. A young woman and former assassin tragically handicapped by the heft of a war hammer three years ago, his love Kelly Archer hobbled toward the inner door to meet him, assisted by an ash cane. His eyes softened upon being reminded of her plight in the prison—the matted blonde hair that normally would have been so well maintained, and her icy blue eyes had grown dull and hesitant to behold the light.

"Kelly!" Nathan exclaimed with joy. He nestled the torch into a holder on the door to free his hands to touch her through the bars once she finished her approach. "I've missed you so much."

"I wondered at times if you'd ever return." Kelly said with a smile so slight Nathan could only guess whether she was serious or not.

"I'll always come back for you, dear. Always have."