Road to Redemption

Started by NaughtyJake09, April 23, 2012, 08:54:25 PM

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NaughtyJake09

(Hey guys, so while I was still in the approval process I figured id do a little RPing on here. If you read this and like and would like to join in, by all means do so :) my request is only that you stay in the story )

William reigned his horse in, letting the beast rest for a while as he ran his haand through his sweat matted, cool brown hair.  His steed let out a greatful knicker before lowering it's head to snack on some grass, it's chewing made awkward by the bit in it's mouth.  William let out a long drawn out sigh and reached for his wineskin hesitantly before moving over it and lifting his waterskin to his mouth.  A swig of wine would have been very welcome.  The road had been long and hot, and the only company he had was Demon, his horse.  Still though, William found he had been relying on the wine a lot nowadays, after all it was the only thing fighting back the memories and helping sleep.  Even if a crippling headache ensued the next morning.

William finished his drink and only when he leveled his head did he realize he was no longer alone.  On the hill ahead of him a rider sat atop his horse, bathed in red shadow from the setting sun behind him.  Rarely do commoners travel alone, not since the crusades had began, the church calls for every sword in christiandom to rally to the holy land.  The lack of available men-at-arms has made the less pious individuals prey on the weak.  No commoners only travled with sellswords, or knighted bodygaurds and rarely on horseback unless they were noblemen.  Perhaps the war had changed the young knight, made him more weary, more paranoid, but the presence of this new rider made William anxious.  Ever the calm warrior though, William did not let it show.  Steadily and slowly he lowered his waterskin and rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, he then kicked Demon into a trot towards the unknown rider, letting his armor clank together noisily perhaps to try and deter any sort of confrontation.

As he made his way to the top of the hill he noted that although the rider was armed, he wasn't heavily armored, nor ready.  The rider's sword was strapped to the back of his horse, only his bow was on his person. The only armor he donned was a boiled leather jerkin that neither fit him, but it wasn't donned properly as well.  He was a young man, even to the young knight approaching him, maybe 17 at the oldest.  Still the way he held himself on the horse made William know he had at least some skill.   William reigned his horse in about ten yards away and waited.  The boy was studying him as well before he called out,  "Hail, Ser Knight," he started holding up his right hand in a gesture of good intention, "With the way the day has gone, I hadn't expected to see another traveler.  I'm called Hector, and if it please you, Ser Knight, what is your name?"

Relieved, William pulled his hand from his sword.  This boy meant him no harm, and even if he did, he was still a green boy, probably never even seen real combat. William wasn't about to kill another innocent like him, not again.  "William of Leon." He replied back, his tone obvious that he wanted no conversation with this boy. 

"It's a pleasure, milord." The boy said, vibrant green eyes wide.

"I'm no lord." William replied, spurring his horse back into action. The boy kicked his own to follow quickly.

"Aye, I'm sorry milord, I mean Ser William.  What brings you on the roads?  Forgive me for being so intrusive but your accent is a bit...er...strange, where is it you're from?"  Hector said, seemingly oblivious to the fact the Knight did not want his company. 

"France." Was his reply.
    "Oh! A Frank, Aye, I see it now.  You're a long way from home, are you a crusading Knight?

NaughtyJake09

Hector asked, pointing the faded piece of fabric on William's Surcoat that is in the shape of a cross.  William brushed his hand against his shoulder where the patch had been. 

"Was." William replied, "I just want to go home now." He said, the memories begining to swell up in his head.

"Was?" The boy asked incredulously, "once you're a soldier of God, you're always a soldier of God.  Word is that Christ was victorious, the Saracens were defeated and Jerlusaleum is once again in the hands of God, is it true?"

William cringed at the memory of his blade biting into innocent flesh, "Yes...the holy land is in God's hands now" he replied solemnly.  Looking over his shoulder at the source of the screaming before deciding it was only in his head.

The boy too looked around, confused, he found nothing but decided not to bring up the topic.  "Do you head to the villiage ahead? It is on the way to Athens, I plan to head there and take up the cross to defend christiandom and the holy land!" Hector said with pride in his voice.

"Oh to be innocent and naive again." William said. The boy gave him a confused look and was about to comment when William held up a gauntleted hand.  "How far is this villiage boy?"

"Oh uhm, just about a days ride from the fork in the road in that hill, might I travel with you?"  He asked. 

William took a swig from his wineskin and shrugged.  "I could use the company I suppose, how good a cook are you?"

NaughtyJake09

"My mother taught me some basic recipes, I'm not bad. You could do a lot worse." The boy replied, seemingly happy to be traveling with a real crusader, ex or not.

William shrugged and took another drink of wine, offering it to Hector who refused because wine clouded the head and the faithful needed clear heads.  Williams comment about Jesus drinking wine shut him up though.  The two traveled along until the sun had fully set and the moon was three hours into it's ascent.  They stopped to make camp. Hector made a campfire and began cooking as William tethered the horses to a nearby tree.  The two ate roast rabit with some bread rations as the boy went on and on about his family and why he always wanted to be a knight.  William drank until the wine took hold of him and he stumbled to his bedroll in his tent.  "Keep watch boy! Wake me when you're about to fall asleep" he said. 

As William slept he restlessly tossed and turned to dreams of him and his command of knights, and soldiers of God, slaughtering innocent men women and children of a newly conquered Jerlusalem.

Purveyorofidentitiess

"Abbey come take this bucket and go out to the well, I must have water for washing clothes, do not dawdle." The impatient voice called out and wait a moment for confirmation. "Abbey!"
The shout infiltrated the layers of space between the woman sitting by the fireplace with her tea drinking companion and the girl sitting in the attic reading by the light of the window.
But she didn’t hear the shout. She jumped from building to building avoiding the possibility of capture. By this stage she was reading aloud from the well worn book in her hand. “You will never get me!” she shouted back at them. Abbey jumped from couch to couch in the small space of the attic her free arm extending out like she was parrying a sword turning to face her enemies. “I never poisoned him at all!” Abbey shouted startling her mother’s guest.

Patricia Callahan sighed shaking her head, gesturing her guest to stay.
“Never mind her nonsense Lydia, she likes to carry on—I rue the day I allowed her to go to that school. Ever since she knew her letters she always goes to the Parsons for a book to read, sometimes neglecting her duties. I tell her she won’t ever get a husband that way. But she can get so hoity toity sometimes.”
Lydia shook her head, sorry for her friend’s delimma. “She is what, nine and ten?”
Patricia flushed at the assumption, uncomfortable with the truth. “Nay, one and twenty”
Practically on the shelf was the unsaid words between them.

“Ma, I’m going outside!” the girl they spoke about bounded into the kitchen with her hair once in a chignon now loose about her face.
“Abbey, you haven’t finished your chores yet and yer pa and brother’s will be coming back starved!”
Patricia complained, raising half out of her seat as if to try and physically hold the girl back.

“Ma, I am going to finish it. I promise...I will be back.” And before her Ma could call out to her to make her stay, Abbey escaped from the confines of the cottage, clutching her book in hand.
In part people underestimated Abbey because she was small: five-two and a hundred and two pounds, not physically imposing, certainly not intimidating, likewise she was shapely but not a doll with delicate features, slender shoulders, tiny waist—all contributed to an impression of fragility that was misleading. She was a strange girl and a farmer’s daughter with no clear prospects in the world but marriage, babies, and farm chores. And as she hurried further and further away from the small home where she lived with her ma and pa and her brothers—she felt the shackles of her circumstance fall away, especially as she escaped to the tops of the hills.