Phoenix Gift

Chapter Twenty-One

On the Reen Dorema, the sailors anxiously waited for the others to return. The harbor was quiet, but they tired of the suspicious townsfolk. There was a general feeling of unwelcome that they did not understand but could not deny. A fortnight after Xavier and the others left, Whitney, the servants and their escort returned from the castle. The crew greeted them with surprise and relief.

The crew hurriedly lowered the gangplank and went to help the others unload the wagon at the end of the dock. The carthorse refused to place a single foot on the unstable planks. Frustrated by its noncompliance and disappointment at having their visit so short, Whitney tossed the reins to the first person who came near before making her way back to the ship. She marched up the gangplank without waiting for help and quickly disappeared below deck.

“How goes everything here?” Evan called up to the ship as his horse picked its careful way down the slightly swaying dock.

“Quiet,” Captain Monroe nodded. “But I shouldn’t like to stay here much longer.”

“How so?” Evan asked. He watched the crew unload the wagon and carry the supplies aboard the ship.

“The villagers aren’t very hospitable,” Dale, Natalia’s son, muttered as he passed them. “Where are my parents?”

“They’ve gone on with the others,” Evan answered the lad with good humor before turning back to the captain. “I don’t know how long they will be.”

“We’ll have to find food for the horses,” Monroe scratched his head. “We might be able to live on the ship, but they can’t.”

“We can board the horses at the innkeeper’s stables,” Evan nodded.

“I doubt he’ll take our gold now,” Monroe was not convinced, but the knight was still confident.

“We have to return the wagon anyway,” Evan said. “It can’t hurt to ask.”

“It might be,” Monroe warned.

The captain's warning in the back of his mind, Evan watched as the rest of the supplies returned to the ship. Then, he and the other knight escorted Dale, the rented wagon and horse to the inn. Dale helped maneuver the wagon back into its place while one of the stable hands took the equine.

“What of my other wagon and horse?” the innkeeper demanded as he oversaw the procedures.

“With our king, traveling east,” Evan answered. “It will be returned at their arrival.”

The innkeeper huffed. His face turned deep red.

“How much to board our horses here while we wait for the others? They need shelter on firm ground.”

“I’ll not continue doing business with the likes of you,” the innkeeper shook his head, wildly waving his arms in exaggerated gestures. “The last thing I need is magic folk around here. Seven silver pieces per day for use of the wagon as agreed. Pay and leave.”

The innkeeper snatched the silver almost before the knight finished counting it.

“See what the captain meant?” Dale asked, walking alongside the two knights as they returned their horses to the docks.

“It’s an act, Dale,” Evan answered.

The innkeeper had long been a useful ally to them in the past, but even he could not expect the old man to take too many risks for them. He glanced at a pair of men standing near the inn. The men wore peasant clothes, but Evan was certain they hid swords under their heavy cloaks.

“Who are they?” Dale asked, noticing the knight’s attention.

“Soldiers,” Evan answered. “I imagine they have persuaded the innkeeper not to take further business from us.”

“What will we do now?” the boy asked.

“We’ll take the horses back to the ship and lead them out of the village tomorrow to graze.”

“That’s your solution?” Dale asked. He expected more dramatic action.

“That’s all we can do. This isn’t our kingdom, remember?”

Early in the morning, Dale and the two knights led the horses beyond the village limits. The young sailor had little interest in horses himself, but the knights’ actions were curious, and he wanted to observe them further. It was not what he expected, especially after listening to the stories of his father’s youth. They turned the animals loose to graze among the grassy hills sweeping away beyond the last house. The animals had only moved off several feet before their masters were approached.

“What are you doing here strangers?” a harsh voice asked.

Evan and the others turned to see a group of five men approach. The men wore peasant clothes and heavy cloaks. Two, they recognized. Glancing at his fellow knight, Evan took his stance and eyed each of their adversaries in turn. There was no mistaking the leader. Proud and determined, he arrogantly strode several steps ahead of the others.

“Grazing our horses,” the other knight answered. Both he and Evan placed a hand on the pommel of their swords hidden under their cloaks.

“Fine horses,” the leader announced.

“Yes, we are very proud of them,” Evan nodded. He eyed the men, guessing which were ready to draw their weapons.

“A pity you won’t live to enjoy them!” the men leapt forward, raising their swords.

The Milagrian knights drew their swords and met their attackers. As blades clashed, Dale stumbled back. He fumbled a dagger from his boot and raised it against the man striding toward him as the knights faced two against one.

“You must be joking boy,” the man laughed as he advanced. “You might as well give up. Maybe I won’t kill you.”

“What are you going to do now, mighty knight of Milagros?” one of Evan’s attackers sneered.

In answer, the two knights called out in loud voices, “Zion! Indra!”

“What the—”

A bay destrier attacked Evan’s opponents. The horse charged, knocking one attacker to the ground. Then it reared and pawed the air with deadly hooves.

Writhing on the ground, he tried to avoid the horse’s hooves as the horse pawed. Ears laid back, the brown destrier pivoted and kicked out its hind legs. Its hooves landed on the retreating soldier’s rear and sent him rolling several feet. Seizing the other, Evan shoved him after his floundering comrade.

At the same moment, a black destrier with white legs attacked the other knight’s opponents with equal potency. Unprepared for the fierce warhorses, the men retreated. Outnumbered, Dale’s attacker backed down and ran after the rest. The knights sheathed unbloodied swords and patted their faithful partners.

Tremors shook through Dale, and he found he could not hold onto his dagger. It fell with a thud onto the soft turf. Unable to stand on his own, he sank to the ground and asked, “How did they know?”

Evan scratched the brown horse’s star, the stallion’s favorite spot, saying, “A knight’s horse is their most trusted ally in battle.”

The brown stallion snorted, bobbing its head.

“Horses terrify me,” Dale shook his head. “They are so big.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to be a knight?” Evan asked, raising an eyebrow. The reason behind Dale's refusal to follow his father was a mystery often debated among the knights. “A ship is a lot bigger than a horse.”

“A ship is wood, rope and sail.” Dale forced himself to stand and brushed himself off. “It doesn’t have its own mind.”

“I don’t know about that,” the other knight said, “sometimes I think the Reen Dorema could sail itself.”