Chapter 5
The Fallen Knight
Reginwald, Lothria
When Lys left the castle, Kolman did not pursue her. It was probably for the best that he did not, but this served to complete the breach between them. Part of her felt it was inevitable, but she was not happy about the loss. Kolman was as much a brother to her as Maus was, but time has a way of changing people.
If what Sir Eckhardt had said was true, then time had changed Sir Burkhardt as well. With as much disappointment as she had met thus far, she would not dare to hope for much. Still, she was hoping to win at least one ally in this place.
No doubt because of her appearance, it was difficult finding someone who would answer her when she spoke to them, but she eventually got the directions she needed, following Gudrun's advice to find a a tavern called the Running Red Fox. It was not a particularly clean or refined establishment, but she was not gripped with the same sense of danger and revulsion she felt in the house of ill repute where she found Kolman. The men inside were mostly a rough sort, but none of them were looking at her with the eyes of a ravening dog.
And there she found him sitting alone at a table, drinking from the horn of an aurochs ornamented with tarnished silver. If she had not used her powers to confirm his spirit's resonance with her own, she would not have believed her eyes when she saw what was once the famed Knight Champion of Gotland. Though never the comeliest man, he had the charm that only a stout and valiant man could have. Particularly to her young eyes, his chest had been as a barrel and his jaw carved from granite. That once sturdy chest was sunken as Sir Burkhardt slouched over the table with most of its circumference seeming to have drifted southward to his belly. His hair had been left to grow long, unwashed and greasy, with an unkempt beard to match. He was dressed no better than a common peasant and the many stains on his tunic indicated that it was not only his hair that had gone unwashed for some time.
Lys' heart sank when she saw him. Was this the ally she sought? It was tempting to simply turn back the way she came and set out on her own, but she checked herself. Fallen though he may have been, Sir Burkhardt was still Maus' master and one of the companions of Lys' father. He deserved to at least hear her father's will. What he did with it would be up to him.
She walked up to his table and greeted him, saying, "Hello, Sir Burkhardt."
Sir Burkhardt looked at her out of the corner of his eye, scarcely even turning his head.
"N' whadd're yew sh'posta be? Ain't in no mood fer no whoresh, shpesh'ly not one ain't gotsh no meat to 'er. Run 'long now, lash."
"Wot is i', Burkie?" someone at a nearby table asked. "One a' yer bastids come fer ye, tellin' ye's te come 'ome te the missus? Ha ha ha!"
"Damn yer eyesh, Heinie!" Sir Burkhardt bellowed back. He then glanced back at Lys. "An' damn yourn too if'n yew don' get movin'."
Lys threw back her hood and said, "Sir Burkhardt, it's me, Lys, Tancred's daughter."
As the realization dawned on him, Sir Burkhardt's eyes widened a little and his jaw hung slack.
"Leesh... Lil' Leesh... Come back...?"
He let go of his drinking horn, leaving the contents (of which, little remained) to spill out as he reached out to take hold of Lys under the arms and hoisted her up, much as Gudrun had done, then drew her in close for an embrace, very nearly squeezing the breath out of her. Despite Lys having lived among Beastmen for years, the smell of Sir Burkhardt was... powerful to say the least. He could certainly have stood to do with a good scrubbing from Wille.
"I thought we losht yew, girl," he said, almost sounding like he was on the verge of tears.
Sir Burkhardt had been a dear friend to her father, so her sudden disappearance surely grieved him more than most. Much as with the King, she regretted adding to the troubles of anyone close to her and her father, but her duty to her father had to come first.
"I'm back now," she said. "And I want to talk to you... about my father and his will that he left with me."
Sir Burkhardt set her down on her feet, then paid a brief rueful glance at the spilled contents of the drinking horn before motioning for her to take a seat at the table with him.
The rush of excitement from seeing Lys seemed to have sobered him a little, but his words were still rather slurred as he spoke.
"What'sh thish about Tank'rd'sh will?"
"Are you sure you're fit to hear it?" Lys asked.
"Thish ish ash fit ash I get theesh daysh."
Lys had to suppress the urge to sigh.
"You know what happened to Loreley, how the Witch Queen took her, and how Maus—"
Sir Burkhardt banged his fist on the table.
"Damn that boy!"
This not only startled Lys but also drew some looks from the other drunkards roused out of their stupor. She held up her hands in a bid to pacify the drunken knight as she continued.
"I'm not trying to make any excuses for Maus or what he's done, but my father didn't want to abandon either of them. Before he left that that day, he charged me with finding a way to save them if he failed."
"Charged yew?" Sir Burkhardt asked incredulously. "Yew was, what? Two?"
"I was four," Lys said, "nearly five. It's why I left. I've been studying the spirit arts all this time to try to find a way free Loreley of the Witch Queen. If can free her, I can free Maus as well."
Sir Burkhardt only glared and said, "Maush killed yer father, yew know."
"I know," Lys said. "Everybody keeps saying that as if that's enough to make me hate him as much the rest of you do."
"Ever'body?"
"I asked Kolman to let me meet with the Five Champions to tell them about Father's will. Didn't they tell you?"
Sir Burkhardt scratched his chin, which told her that even if he had been told, it did not leave enough of an impression to drawn him away from his drinking.
"They... didn't welcome what I had to say," Lys said.
Sir Burkhardt snorted at this.
"I'd think not... Fool of a girl come here pleedin' fer her father's murd'rer..."
"Maus was your squire, Sir Burkhardt. Don't you want to help him?"
Sir Burkhardt held up his hand and said, "Th'only thing I'd like ta do ta 'im ish shqueeze the life outta 'im with theesh handsh. Gaw blight me if'n I do oth'rwysh..."
Lys could not say she was not expecting this, but hearing it made her countenance fall all the same.
"So you're not going to help me?"
"Not 'nlesh yer plannin' on shendin' that lil' bashterd ta 'is 'ternal r'ward."
"Well, you'll be happy to know that His Highness the Prince intends to do just that. Maybe if you'd sober up, you can join him."
Lys did not hide the contempt in her tone and even drunk, Sir Burkhardt was quick to pick up on it and upbraid her for it.
"'Ey, don't yew be talkin' ta yer eldersh like that."
"I don't know why I was hoping for anything different," Lys said as she rose up from the table. "I guess I'm going alone then. Goodbye, Sir Burkhardt. Take care of yourself. Try not to drink yourself into an early grave any faster than what you are."
She then walked out of the tavern while Sir Burkhardt was shouting after her, "Leesh! Wait, Leesh!"
She, however, did not wait. She was done with having everyone she was counting on stand against her, but maybe she was to blame for thinking anyone would be willing to fulfill her father's will. If she had to go alone, then alone she would go, even if it would mean she was more likely to be reunited with her father all the sooner.
* * *
Sir Burkhardt just sat there staring at the door for a while after Lys left. He was too drunk to be dealing with all of this. He had thought the girl was dead and yet she appears all of the sudden babbling about saving his traitor of a squire. And then she acts disappointed when he does not immediately agree to save the man who killed her own father. If ever there was a time for a drink, this was it.
He picked up his drinking horn, hoping there would still be a little ale left inside. Filling this horn cost a whole half-shilling and he was not sure if he had enough on him to fill it again. When he held the horn to his lips and tilted it back, there was still at least a mouthful that remained, but it tasted sour when he drank it. He very nearly spat it out, but he was not going to waste even foul-tasting ale, especially after having already wasted at least a halfpenny's worth.
He looked glumly at the empty drinking horn, then down at himself. Was his gut always that wide around? When was the last time he bathed?
One of the reasons he drank was to forget, but seeing that girl again got him started remembering. Things he had to drink himself silly for just so he could make it through the night. The ghosts of his failures had been haunting him all this time and it started with that accursed day. The boy was not the author of all Sir Burkhardt's misfortunes, but he was certainly helping the one who held the quill.
As he looked at the empty horn, the idea of drinking himself to death was losing its luster as much as the horn's ill-kept silver ornaments. Was this really the way for the former Knight Champion of Gotland's story to end?
His thoughts returned to the girl and he realized there was another way to end this story.
* * *
Lys could not very well return to Kolman's cottage lest she find him there, and she did not want to take her chances on other accommodations in the city, so she decided to go ahead and set out on her journey. She did not have any money for buying provisions, but she could always forage for what she needed. She could not very well call herself a pupil of the Ral'shee if she could not live off the land.
After leaving the city, she had been walking for about an hour when she heard a voice in the distance.
"He~~~~y! He~~~~~~y! Ly~~~~~~~s!"
She stopped and turned and could hardly believe what she saw. It was Sir Burkhardt atop a mule following after her. As she was not sure what to expect, she stood her ground and waited for him to come to her.
"A good thing I didn't wait till mornin'," Sir Burkhardt said as he got closer, sounding considerably more sober than when Lys had left him. "I might never've caught up to you."
"I wasn't expecting you to catch up to me at all," Lys replied. "Should the daughter of Tancred rejoice that her knight has come unto her, lowly, riding upon an ass?"
Sir Burkhardt held his head.
"If you're gonna talk churchy, you should've asked Friedman to come with you."
"It took all the grace His Grace had not to burn me in the courtyard," Lys replied. "You've really come to help me?"
"Me an' my blade both might be rusty, but I'll be blighted if I let you go out to face that damnèd Witch Queen alone."
"I thought you called on God to blight you if you did anything other than squeeze the life out of Maus with your own hands."
"Now you leave the blightin' to the Almighty's good humor, or ill humor dependin'."
"I'm grateful," Lys said, "but shouldn't you have a horse?"
"I sold him," Sir Burkhardt said. "You know how much you can drink off the price of a good warhorse?"
"No."
"Me neither," the knight said. "I was never one for figgers, but however much forty marks can buy. Besides, ol' Hänsel here's good ol' boy. Don't eat half as much."
"More for you to drink then."
"Maybe I been drownin' my sorrows a lil' too much these past years," Sir Burkhardt admitted. "Maybe settlin' thin's'd be better for me than any flagon a' the Fox's donkey piss—no offense meant there, Hänsel, me lad."
Hänsel snorted almost as if he took Sir Burkhardt's meaning, though Lys should not have been surprised. She knew from experience that beasts were more perceptive than humans gave them credit for.
Taking note of all the hide bottles hanging off Hänsel's rump, Lys said, "Looks like someone still has an attachment to the Fox's donkey piss."
"Travellin's thirsty work," Sir Burkhardt replied. "An' if you're meanin' ta go all the way ta Gottestag, it's a long road ahead of us."
"I hear the road is better with company."
"Depends on the company."
"I suppose it does. Shall we be going?"
Sir Burkhardt motioned for her to go ahead.
"Lead the way, lil' miss."
Perhaps Lys should not have taken much encouragement from the addition of a fat, drunken knight and his mule, but she could not help but feel buoyed by the prospect of having someone to join her in her grand endeavor. He may not have been capable of the same feats on the battlefield as he once was, but surely having Sir Burkhardt with her would have an effect on Maus when she found him. Surely he had to be the one Maus loved second to Loreley alone, more so than his own kin. It could make all the difference when the time came.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Sir Burkhardt speaking up.
"So, Leesh, what're them markin'sh?"
She turned to see him already drinking from one of the bottles he had brought with him. It was going to be a long road indeed.