My Broken Knight

Chapter 2: Back Home

-William-

It was a quiet, warm day. Early spring had blessed us with unseasonably warm weather, and it felt good on my skin as I rode through the forest leading to the little village of Greenhill. It was a piece of heaven—at least, that’s how I had always thought of it. So quiet, with nothing bad ever happening there... Perhaps that was the very reason I had left to begin with. I had thirsted for more, but sadly, I had gotten more than I bargained for.

I had been personally thanked by a commander from another of our camps in Seeka. He was in direct contact with the king, who had been informed of my bravery. Yet, I didn’t care about thanks or accolades. I just wanted to return home as quickly as possible so I could finally marry Vanessa. Unfortunately, recovery had taken me a few weeks, but now I was finally home. I just had to leave the forest behind, and I would be in Greenhill.

I closed my eyes, savoring the smell of the forest, the sounds of the animals, and the sun shining through the canopy of trees. Yes, this was home, yet... as I closed my eyes, memories I had tried to lock away resurfaced. I quickly opened them, only to realize I was no longer in the midst of those memories.

I was truly on my way home, yet my heart raced, and fear gripped it. I raised my hand to find the cross hanging around my neck—another gift from Vanessa as we parted. She was a strong believer, and while I had never been particularly religious, I found strength in the cross she gave me along with the picture. It would be incredible to see her again and return it, knowing now that I had her.

As I finally emerged from the forest and entered the village, people looked at me in shock, as if I were a ghost returning from the land of the dead. In a way, I was. I was not the same William who had left seven years ago. I had changed.

My appearance had changed too—I hadn’t had time to shave or get my hair cut. In the cold kingdom of Seeka, staying warm was crucial, which meant I looked much like the Flesh Eaters. My long hair reached my shoulders, and my beard was so thick it felt like I was having a heat stroke on this warm spring day.

Children playing in the street quickly stopped when they saw me, their parents pulling them back as they too noticed my arrival. I was still wearing my armor, the lion roaring proudly from my chest, and the long blue cape flowing down my back and over the horse.

My sword was securely tied to my hip, and one hand rested on the handle. I hadn’t been able to let go of it throughout the journey. In some way, it calmed me, and it had helped me more times than I could count. I just wished it had been able to help Greg in the end...

I rode through the town until I reached a quieter area, where the houses were more spaced out and there were fewer people. Most of the locals were farmers, unaccustomed to knights, so even as the crowd thinned, those left still stopped to stare. My house was situated by a small stream, facing a vast field of corn.

I halted my horse not far from the house, taking a moment to look at it while the onlookers whispered among themselves. It looked much the same. Suddenly, the door opened, but it was not the man I called father who stepped outside.

Instead, it was the town’s physician. He had been friends with my father for years and had participated in the battle my father had joined long ago, which he rarely spoke about. The man stopped when he saw me, forgetting to close the door as he studied me. He had been like an uncle to me, and despite my disheveled appearance, he smiled, recognizing me.

“Will?” he asked.

I nodded before dismounting and patting my horse’s long, dark neck.

“You’re home!” he exclaimed.

He walked over to me with long strides and hugged me tightly. I felt overwhelmed, but soon found the strength to embrace him back.

“I’m home,” I said, my voice roughened by the cold and the toll of war.

He pulled back, looking me over as if I were his son who had been away for many years.

“Look at you,” he said, slapping my arm. “You’ve grown. What did you eat over there?”

I smiled faintly but didn’t answer. Instead, I turned my gaze toward the house I had always called home.

“My father...” I began.

I looked back at Tom, his eyes revealing nothing but pain and sadness.

“I’m so sorry, Will. His body has just been wrapped in a shroud.”

It felt like the air had been sucked from my lungs as I looked at Tom.

“He’s... dead?”

He nodded sadly.

“When?” I inquired, feeling tears sting my eyes. I fought to hold them back, trying not to let my emotions take control.

“A week ago. I came to... take care of a few things. He’ll be buried tomorrow.”

“I’m... a week late?”

“I’m sorry, Will,” he said.

He reached out to touch me, but I pushed him away and walked toward the house, storming inside. There he was, on our dinner table, wrapped in white linen with sage burning to cleanse the space. I stumbled forward, falling to my knees in front of him.

“A week,” I whispered.

I lowered my head, unable to stop the tears from falling. “A f*****g week.”

“I’m sorry, William. Really, I am.”

Tom had followed me inside and stood by my side, letting me grieve for the man I had always felt distant from. I had never understood how he found this life sufficient. Now, I did. For years, I had dreamed of nothing but coming home, being with Vanessa, and living this life—a carpenter’s life.

“How?” I finally asked.

“Blood poisoning. He cut himself on a piece of wood. The wound got infected and spread to his blood.”

“Father...”

“He asked for you many times. You didn’t write.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I looked at Tom. “No, I didn’t know what to say... I... I had no words for what was happening up there.”

“I understand. Why do you think your father never spoke of the horrors we saw?”

I looked up at Tom, noting the wrinkles that hadn’t been there when I left. His dark hair had turned slightly white at the sides.

“I... I should never have left,” I admitted.

“You wanted more. Your father understood that. That’s why he gave you his sword and wished you well, rather than trying to stop you. If you hadn’t left with the other knights, you would have left in some other way.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Even though I had changed my mind after what I had seen, if I hadn’t gone north, I would have sought adventure elsewhere. I needed to see the world. Now that I had seen it, I found it to be horrible.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I whispered.

“He will continue to watch over you. Now come on. We shouldn’t linger here. The spirits are still visiting.”

He was right. You could stay here for a short time the following week when the dead were lingering, but only briefly. The spirits from the other world often visited when someone joined them, and if you weren’t careful, they might take you too.

“Yes,” I said, pushing aside my emotions.

I got to my feet and turned to my father’s old friend.

“You’ll stay with me,” he said.

I nodded in thanks and followed him outside. He closed the door, which had been painted with a dark spiral representing the journey to the world of the dead.

“Come,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get a drink.”

I took the reins of my horse and followed him to the nearest tavern. I tied my horse outside and then joined him inside, where people were talking loudly and drinking. The room fell silent as they saw us.

“Everyone,” Tom announced. “Let us welcome a lost one home. William!”

The crowd looked at me in shock, seeing the man who had returned instead of the skinny young boy I had been when I left.

“Will?” A young man my age stood from his seat. At first, I couldn’t recognize him, but then my memory clicked into place.

“Luke?”

Luke was an old childhood friend. He quickly walked over and hugged me, and I embraced him in return. When we finally pulled away, he held me by the shoulders and looked me over.

“You’ve grown,” he said.

“So have you,” I replied, eyeing his beer gut.

“I’ll let that slide this time,” he said with a laugh, clearly knowing I was joking. “Come, tell us all about your journey!”