Jack Frost: King of Thieves

CHAPTER XLVI: Ask Me Nicely

Even as Jack spoke of riding to Tephra, he spotted from the corner of his eye a figure leading a cart into the village centre from the direction of Burlington Manor.

Jack recognised Gaffer Gorge immediately. It took him a few seconds, though, to understand what the man carried. When at last the realisation hit him, Jack staggered as if struck by an arrow. He looked quickly to Elsa and saw that she had frozen where she stood, her eyes fixed on George, her cheeks ashen.

George's face, ruddy as always, was streaked with tears, and he carried Sir Sandy's sword cradled in his arms, as though it was the most precious thing in the world.

The body of the old knight lay in the cart, as still and pale as a stone effigy on a tomb.

Geroge stopped in front of Elsa, sobbing, his eyes downcast. And even as she took the sword out of his hands he wouldn't look at her. Jack moved to her side and put his arm around her. She leant against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her legs buckling. If he hadn't been holding her, she might have fallen.

No one in the village centre spoke, although a few of the townspeople began to weep.

Jack's grief was nearly too much to bear. He had known the old man only briefly, but in the few days they had shared, their friendship had grown quickly. He could have learned so much more from Sandy if only he'd had the chance. Not just about himself and his father, but about Southern Isles, about being a knight, about the land on which he now stood.

Slowly, Jack led Elsa back up toward Burlington Manor. George followed, leading the cart once more, for the last journey of Sir Sandy Overland to his beloved manor.

A pyre had been built at the ruined gate of the Overland Manor, to Elsa's precise instructions. Sandy's hair had been combed, he had been dressed in unbloodied clothes, and then he had been placed in an open coffin of woven osiers. With help from Peter, Sinbad, and Ester, Jack carried the old man to the pyre and set him upon it. Children had picked flowers for the occasion, and these were spread around Sandy's body. And Elsa, who until this time had not relinquished the old man's sword, now stuck it in the ground in front of the pyre.

As the sun went down, North offered a brief prayer. When the priest had finished, Jack and the others brought torches forward and thrust them into the great pile of wood. Elsa stepped forward and placed a flower within the coffin, before stepping back and watching the fire grow. Wisps of smoke curled upward, the wood began to crackle, and soon the fire was burning brightly, illuminating the faces of those who had gathered to say farewell to the man. Jim and his boys were there. North stood with Elsa and Jack. Peter, Sinbad, and Ester stood a short distance off, their heads bowed.

There was little sound, save for the snapping of the flames and the gentle rustle of a light wind that carried smoke out across the fields of Burlington Manor. Jack sensed that the people around him were mourning more than just one man, great though he had been. Too many had died this day, and Pitch still lived. More would fall before this was over.

The following morning, Jack put on his leather breeches and his riding cloak, strapped Overland sword to the side of his belt and his old dagger to the back of it, and went down to the courtyard to saddle his mount. Elsa had risen early and was already in the yard, waiting for him. She watched him wordlessly as he cinched his pack, and then walked with him out onto the road, where Peter, Sinbad, and Ester were waiting for him, already sitting their horses.

Jack turned to Elsa, not quite knowing what he ought to say. She was wearing a simple blue dress and, on her wrist, a pearl bracelet he had given her the night before. Her hair was tied back loosely, and the morning sun shone gently on her face. He had never seen her look more lovely.

"Once before, I said goodbye to a man going to war," she said, gazing at the bracelet. "He never came back."

Jack looked at her, a sad smile on his lips. "Ask me nicely."

Elsa came to him. Taking her in his arms, he kissed her. She clung to him, returning the kiss passionately. But then she stepped back and smiled, letting him go. Jack gazed at her for another moment before swinging onto his horse.

"I love you, Elsa," he said.

And wheeling his horse, he led the others away at a gallop, in the same direction the barons' army had gone a short while before.