Magic and Gold

22: The Knight of Gold

Perspective of Blade

I headed towards the basement. They could do it alone. Their skills were more suited to liberating Guin, while I was the only one who could distract the guards. This was the natural thing to do. But when I saw a single chair in the middle of a small circle of a few guards, I grew scared. "What's my sentence?" I asked.

"Sit down," someone said. It was Iaan. He seemed to be a ringleader, along with many other guards who had taunted me in the past. I held my head up high and sat down in the only seat in the vastly empty room. "We have some questions we need answered. You must swear to tell the truth."

"I swear everything I say is and will be true. I'd do anything for you all to forgive me." And to give Guin more time.

"Take off your shirt, and we'll begin." Many guards were holding buckets, and I didn't doubt that this punishment would be much worse than a simple interrogation.

There were people laughing at me all over the room, and even more people coming in. The more people in here, the better. With everyone here, the others would be able to move without notice. I pulled my shirt over my head. "You all just want an excuse to look at my abs." I laughed, and some others laughed with me. I flexed for the crowd. Too bad there were no women here, they would have been easier to please.

Iaan grabbed the first bucket. "Won't be a joker for long." He poured it over my head. When the water touched my skin, I could feel my skin stiffen and want to run to anything warm. Hot chocolate. A blanket. Even just my shirt. But I stayed in my chair, flinching at the cold water pouring over my head and dripping slowly down my shoulders. "You left us, you gave us no warning. You abandoned your brothers and forsook your duty. Duty and honor is everything. So, answer these questions truthfully and renew your oath. How did you join the Guard in the beginning?"

I shivered slightly but stayed sitting tall, refusing to rub my cold arms. "I was eight, and my father was a guard, just like his father before him. I started training, not very hard, as a child. I walked with my father, maybe an hour a day. I didn't start for real until I was about twelve, and then I stayed with him for days at a time. At fourteen, I received my own shifts. Minimal shifts, but work nonetheless. I was young, but talent and honor is valued over age, or so I was told."

Another bucket was dumped on me from behind. I jumped because I was surprised this time. It was still freezing cold, but unlike the first bucket of water, this liquid was thick and red. They had dumped a bucket of tomato soup on me, and everyone was laughing. I glared at them. A tomato smacked the back of my head and I stood up, pushing my chair back. "This is so stupid! You all are just a bunch of immature bullies waiting for someone to pick on. I have honor, but I'm out. I'm not here to be your punching bag." I wiped tomato soup from my face. Some people had the sense to look apologetic, but others had no feeling at all.

"Why did you leave?" someone asked, and the crowd parted. It was Olly, a twelve year old trainee. He was just a kid, but I had a feeling he was going through a lot, and I felt a little responsible for the kid. I felt bad for leaving because of people like him.

I sighed, trying to arrange my hair in a less haphazard way. "A while back, I did something bad: I fell in love with a princess. And when she married someone else, it hurt. I stayed at home because I couldn't bear to see someone I cared about so much with someone else." I paused. "Then my sister fell from our fourth floor ladder and broke her spine. She can't walk, she's in pain, and I think she's going to die soon. She's everything to me." I hung my head. I spoke from the heart.