The Knight-Herald of the King Returns.
I saw them both, a man on foot and a little dog that angrily stood as if about to intercept a cannonball.
Or rather dodge a cannonball.
“Rufferrrrrrrrrrrrr!” I could hear a growl at this distance.
My horse cantered nervously, and it occurred to me I had nothing to tie it to.
“Good sir come hold!”
“Awoowoowoo!”
“My horse!” I finished calling to the man.
That little dog wasn’t going to shut up until it saw some ID. And even then my giant cowardly riding dog might be too scary to cope with.
While the little white bitch couldn’t make up for half a ton of weight classes. She could certainly sound like it.
The man hurried forward, and I recognized him as the rook who did not validate.
I relaxed.
Validation from men scares me, validation from women I tolerate if she’s touching me.
All other validation, well it makes me mad. I fear I’m a victim to flatterers, perhaps I overreact.
He grabbed my horse and I thanked him. The little dog was leaping and began to bound toward me. Realizing I was not hostile.
I guess that was Wednesday.
Stupid little pitbull.
She was at my feet in moments, I finally fifteen feet away from the nervous horse. finally quiet the thirty pound hound of undocked tail and ears looked up at me submissively. Smelling my hand and arm.
Before squatting and peeing.
“The castle doesn’t trust her!” Laughed the rook. “Everything is life or death to the wee beast!”
The little dog frolicked and hopped in front of me, as If I might chase it or throw something.
Regretfully I had nothing for it.
Though I guess it was out of trouble. Realizing that its king was the strange man it ignored the horse and its tail, nay perhaps its entire body wagged with a furious relief that I was not a bad man sent to end it’s playful life.
It yapped and growled but without anger, as if a herald of the king.
“Awooowooowoowoo!” It announced to the rook daring not to approach the visibly disgusted horse.
“Yes I know! Tis the Lion our king!” The rook responded.
The little dog spun in circles with the energy of a maniac before blasting off down the little stream of water like a white rocket.
“Forgive me O Lion but that dog brings me joy, I swear it is smarter than some of my captains! And you know how animals cannot threaten a man!”
I understood.
“I was attempting to avoid my fellow bipeds this morning. What is the matter?” I did my best to sound cheerful.
“Hah… you looked as if you were appreciating the architecture!”
“I’ve always wanted to build my own castle.” I agreed
It was true, Minecraft lacked the physics to make a proper mousetrap. Stronghold lacked the security of a real bunker, and the modern “mall” tunnels complete with modern comforts I had found lacked the regal majesty of a castle.
Hiding under infrastructure was an odd modern corruption of a castle. Peasants were supposed to follow the security of kings, not the other way around.
The Rook looked expectantly at me, as if I may have some wisdom to share. This old man, this general of mine. He reminded me of that cute girl who used to smile at me after work.
I would stop to dodge traffic and make sure I remembered to eat and check that I hadn’t forgotten anything.
She would stop at the same place.
Eventually she stopped me after I had been on work travel.
“Long time no see” she had said to me with a smile.
I was busy I had tried to get out of the awkward convo. I didn’t know what to say.
She laughed at what I said, but I had to go, to use the restroom or because I was sick, the one day we chat and I had to run for some reason.
What was it? Cruelty?
Now it was almost a year ago, yet I worried I had disappointed her, why hadn’t I asked if she wanted to get dinner, or for her phone number, or if she wanted to be jogging buddies.
Why hadn’t I?
She wasn’t ugly, she was quite cute, we had talked before, we weren’t quite strangers.
But now we were, the smiles I remember were replaced with the awkward grimace of recognition. She used to wave at me, now I waved at her and she didn’t seem to wave back with the same energy.
The desire I once had to pick her up and hug her was replaced with the sour disapproval of the makeup she wore just a bit too much of.
Yet if I did not see her after work I worried as if it might matter. As if we weren’t strangers. As if I was somehow responsible for her.
Had she ever said my name? Had I ever said hers?
I frowned and realized I was a king, was it mean to know I could do better than the little flirt I consistantly met after work?
“And that’s why I think the panther’s weakness is likely a good opportunity to set forth my storm of pawns! Though the chaos of war may make occupying my castle dangerous should you desire.”
My rook had finished some long military plan and I had missed it.
“I had planned to deploy the pontifex, I rather fancy the other castle due to geography.” I finished. The part of me that was worried I had given a stupid answer was suppressed by the part that knew I was ontologically above than this doddering old man.
“That doesn’t rule out an assault on my side, indeed it complements it!” The rook agreed.
I guess what I said was coherent then.
“Forgive me my rook, I’ve been contemplating death recently, how do you assess mortality?” I asked him.
“I suppose you are married to a pretty wife and fear for your life. But rest assured for a man unmarried as myself death in glorious war is the best death.”
“What of a war inglorious?”
The rook chuckled ominously.
“Have you grown soft O lion? Is marriage really such a prison?”
Crud, I was all out of sorts. I was unmarried a week ago, now I was soft from marriage.
I hadn’t even gotten to enjoy it… much…
What a nightmare, by all accounts I was still in the young happy honeymooner phase too.
“But seriously, an embarrassing death makes a good laugh for the soldiery. I remain convinced of my worthy death, even if it changes my name!” The old man winked and continued.
“In fact, I would prefer a comedic death to a tragic one! Don’t ever let anyone tell you a rook doesn’t enjoy comedy!” He smirked and I was reminded how old he was.
“Well if I may say…”
“Of course O lion!”
“You have lived a full life have you not? Many may not consider themselves so fortunate.” I briefly worried that he would take offense, perhaps having lived a hard life until recently.
“You find the crown heavy O lion? Behold, a subject seeks your counsel!”
The horse cantered backwards and the old man slowed it and pointed at something behind me.
I was instantly aware I was standing on poor soft ground near grey water exiting my keep.
But I heard a familiar growl. Something warm and furry pressed itself into my hand, instinctively I squeezed.
Blood?
The thick liquid’s coldness… no warmth enveloped my right hand.
I turned to see the little pitbull tugging gently at the dead rabbit it had just put in my hand.
That wasn’t blood that was an organ!
I grasped the fresh cadaver’s spine and tugged. I shook the dog, but this was no solution.
I would throw the catch away, over the wall of the castle..
How far up was that? Forty feet? Could a furball maintain speed that far?
Only one way to know for certain. Lacking measurement and calculation of course.
I grabbed with my other hand, planted my feet, and twisted my entire body into the swing.
Maybe old me couldn’t throw a dead rabbit this far but the Lion…