Daughters of Revelation

Sir Fabian Castel was knighted for his role in the slaughter of five werewolf like monsters that had taken control of Leonor Prison. His father, Sir Lorenzo Castel, had already given his life fighting the same family of beasts.

            Fabian continuously told those who praised him for the defeat of the monsters, it would not have been possible if not for “the genius of my good friend Lupita Smith.”

            The people of Leonor had trouble believing that the daughter of a witch burnt at the stake could be a hero, but the more an honourable man like Fabian said it, the more it was believed.

            Fabian had taken Daniel Longbow of Fisher’s Gasp village as his squire. The young man sought to restore the name of the family which had been sullied by his father Darren the Disgraced.

            Walking through the busy streets of the capital Daniel and Fabian discussed the day’s training as the first drops fell from grey clouds above. Fabian held out his hand to catch one.

            “The rain has come. It is summer indeed. If war does not intervene, we will test your new skill with a sword at the tournament. You’ve come a long way in a few months.”

            “Training for eight hours a day will do that. I’m glad of the excuse to visit Lupita if only for the rest. I don’t remember a day when my muscles didn’t ache,” said Danielle, who unbeknownst to Fabian was the daughter of Darren the Disgraced, not her son. How she had kept the secret from him for months was a mystery to her.

            She checked that Fabian had the gift bottle of wine. It sat in a satchel on his back.

            “It is progress my friend. You are over the horizon from where you started the journey of swordsmanship. New challenges await you. You’ve no abatements on your standard now. One more great act for the kingdom and you may be made a knight yourself.”

            “Don’t tempt fate Fabian,” said Danielle, straining her stiff neck to look at the sky. Her once short hair was growing down into her eyes. When she’d seen her reflection in a mirror at Fabian’s family home, she felt ridiculous. She preferred her hair short to make the most of perceptions of manliness.

            “You will be a knight of great renown in no time at all Daniel.” Fabian pointed to his friend and smiled. “We both will. Hopefully Lupita will have her part in it.”

            The shadow of the smithy fell upon them. The small cottage attached was where Danielle had first met Lupita as she was thrown out by her father who believed her a witch like her mother.

            Danielle knocked on the door of the cottage and stepped back. Hearing shuffling of chairs inside the two warriors smiled as Lupita appeared in the crack of the door. Her father, one of the tallest men Danielle had ever seen, frowned but would not make eye contact with the two outside.

            “Welcome sirs. Thank you for visiting our humble home,” said Atwanda Smith with a voice that suggested the low rumble of thunder. Danielle tried to smile but had yet to forgive the man for throwing out his daughter months before.

            “Fabian is the only sir here, Mister Smith and we thank you and your daughter for the invitation to your home. May we come in?” Danielle asked.

            “Of course,” Lupita said, stepping back into the brawny form of her father and bowing as she made way for the two sword wielders as they entered. “Why the swords? Were you expecting to fight more monsters on the way here?”

            “A knight should never be without his sword,” said Fabian seriously.

            “Even in the privy?” asked Lupita smiling as she guided them to seats around the simple wooden table.”

            “Ghastly things haunt most privies, Lupita.” Danielle joked.

            “True. But you can’t fight them off with a sword,” said the smith’s daughter as she tried to reassure her father that he should sit with a nod. He sat at the head of the table with Danielle and Fabian on one side and Lupita’s empty stool at the other.

            “It’s just soup and bread I’m afraid. Not the fine dining you’re used to.”

            “That’ll do just fine,” said Danielle.

            A huge pot hung over the fire and a ladle from a hook nearby. The flames behind Atwanda made him a more imposing figure than he already was, a flickering silhouette at the edges.

            “I’m very glad that the two of you have reconciled Mister Smith,” said Fabian poking the elephant in the room with a hot iron. Danielle kicked him under the table.

            “I know none of you understand.” Atwanda sighed. “I’ve had to make a lot of difficult decisions since Danai was accused of witchcraft.”

            “She was a healer.” Lupita didn’t look at her father.

            “I know what your mother was. Far better than you.” He said it staring towards the door. Danielle could tell he was seeing ghosts. His pupils were unfocused. Darren had once worn the same look whilst reliving his early glories hallway down a bottle of wine. “Would anyone like a drink?” He asked, still staring off into a distance far beyond the stone walls.

            “I actually brought something.” Fabian remembered, pulling a bottle from the tiny satchel slung over his shoulder. “Do you have cups?”

            Lupita retrieved four wooden cups from a shelf high above the fire. Danielle tried not to get caught gazing at her host’s figure as the smithy’s daughter stretched. She placed three cups on the table and slammed one in front of her father.

            He snapped. “Do you think it was easy for me?” He slammed a closed fist down on the table so hard that all the cups jumped visibly. “She was offering healings for everyone in the open. I told her people were afraid of magic here. I told her time and time again. She always said that no one would bite the hand that heals. She was wrong there.”

            “So you turned her in?” Lupita sat heavily in her chair and grabbed the bottle of wine Fabian had placed on the table.

            “Me? You think I turned her in?” His voice had turned hoarse from the dry rage. “I begged the soldiers to let her go. I told them she only healed people. I told them it was all lies. I said anything I thought might make them let her go. I offered to work for free for the rest of my days.” He was shaking, whether it was from anger or grief was hard to say. “They called her a hell spawn. They said if I didn’t denounce her at the trial that they would burn me and you with her to be sure all of the taint was gone.”

            Lupita was looking at him again with shock in her dark brown eyes.

            “Danai said to go along with it. She was dead anyway. We had you to think of. Our daughter. My little girl.” Tears streamed down the giant’s face. “So I went to the trial they had for her. Weren’t no trial at all. They found a couple of liars to say she’d cursed them. Men who said she’d made them cheat on their wives. Women who said she’d made ‘em barren. Anyone in Leonor with a twinge blamed your mother. Then when they were done, I said it was all true. I looked her in the eyes and said she had to die.

            I watched them set the fire beneath her. She tried to be brave. For a while she just groaned. Then the fire got at her, and she was screaming. They wouldn’t let me leave. I had to watch the only woman I ever loved burn.

            I burnt all her books when I got back. I didn’t want you ever seeing them again. I didn’t want you getting caught in that. I wanted you to forget about her. I wanted to forget her. Every time I think of your mother, I see her die. I see her looking into my eyes as she screamed in her last agony. If there is a hell, I bought my ticket that day. I should have fought them all and run with the two of you. Least we might have died together.”

            Atwanda coughed, his nose running. The tremble of emotion became an earthquake. Lupita tried to hug him as he stood but he pushed her aside and ran from the door into the rain.

            The door stayed open, showing the world beyond darker than the firelit walls where Atwanda Smith had finally told his story. Lupita sat with her hand across her mouth and her eyes wide. Danielle had to pull the smith’s chair from the fire where it had fallen as he made his escape.

            “You didn’t know any of that did you?” Fabian asked. Lupita shook her head. “Maybe it’s a good thing you do now then?” he asked cautiously.

            “Maybe you should have brought another bottle with you,” Danielle suggested, “and swallowed the cork to shut you up.” She looked at Lupita who seemed to have stopped blinking.

            “The truth is always best out in the open.” Fabian insisted, folding his arms across his chest. His stomach rumbled as he did.

            “You’re a brave and noble man Sir Fabian, but not the brightest. Sometimes the highest form of chivalry is knowing when to shut the fuck up.” Danielle stood and filled Lupita’s cup to the brim. “Drink up. It’ll help.”

            “Will it?” Lupita asked, looking at the daughter of Darren.

            “Not really. But there’s not much else to do. Drink. Please.”

            Lupita gulped down the wine, staring at the bottom of the cup. “Another please my lord.”

            “Certainly, my lady.” Danielle said. “I told you I’m not a real knight yet.”

            “Just a matter of ti-” Fabian began. Danielle silenced him with a finger held up in the air.

            “You lost the right to talk minutes ago Sir Fabian. Your knightly duty now is to drink to the love between Atwanda and his daughter. For understanding and another reconciliation.” She poured the wine in his cup and pushed it closer to him.

            Fabian toasted to the love between father and daughter and to the happiness of their home. Danielle began ladling hot soup into bowls from the same shelf as the cups. When Lupita realised and protested that the smith’s daughter was to sit on her arse on orders of Sir Fabian Castel.

            After a bowl of onion, carrot and pea soup a cold breeze blew in through the open door. Danielle offered to go after Atwanda but Fabian insisted she stay with Lupita.

            While Fabian was off searching for the smith Danielle told the story of her mother’s marriage and how she had been thrown out of her home. Whether she said it to make Lupita feel better or to earn respect for her own awful life she didn’t know.

            Sitting across the small table their hands met. When they looked into each other’s eyes Lupita smiled, blushing less visibly than Danielle who could feel that her cheeks were bright red. Sometime after what felt like an infinity of calm soothing staring into each other’s eyes Atwanda Smith returned with Fabian.

            “What’re you doing with my daughter?” roared the smith.

            “Nothing.” Danielle shot up out of her chair as Atwanda had on his way out. The chair clattered backwards on the stone floor. She tripped as she tried to step backwards and fell to the floor as the muscular titan of a man shot forwards.

            “Lupita is no toy for you to play with her emotions. Was that your plan? To bring out the problems between us then worm your way into her mind while I was gone?”

            “Da’ he didn’t.” Lupita said, trying to stand between the mountain of muscle baring down on Danielle.

            “No sir. Mister Smith. No. That wasn’t what I was doing.” Danielle felt a bump on the back of her head where she had hit the ground. As she stood suddenly a dizzy spell took her.

            “I know you knights. You give the girls a smile and they’re all dreaming of being ladies and living a better life. You give them hope and string them along. You use them and turn them out when they’ve your child and call them whores.” Fabian stood up as if to aid Danielle.

            “I would never,” said Danielle, getting angry and losing the accent she tried so hard to make her own. She would never do what her father had done, siring children out of wedlock and racing off to tournaments. Darren had never denied that she was his daughter. Neither had he legitimised her as he could have.

            “Don’t lie to me. I can see the lust in your eyes plain as day. I’ll not have it.”

            “I would never treat your daughter like that.”

            “You’re a liar.”

            “I am,” Danielle admitted. “But not about that. If you want to hear my revelation let’s all sit. I owe Lupita and Fabian the truth. If you are to hear it as well then so be it.”

            Fabian’s eyes narrowed as he sat in his chair again. Danielle kept her eyes locked on those of Atwanda who eventually sat back in his chair by the fire. Lupita poured what was left of the wine into the four cups that no one touched.

            “My name is not Daniel Longbow. I am not the son of Darren Longbow.” She left the words to sink in for a moment as six eyes pierced her skull. “My name is Danielle, bastard of Darren the Disgraced. I am not a knight. I would never have a chance to be if I was honest. I was homeless. I found my father the drunken knight dead in a barn, and I took his sword and shield from the body. I wandered into Bandit’s Forest with long hair and found a massacre. Some bandits had murdered each other over the loot from a tax man they’d killed. That was in the autumn. I was hungry. I was skin and bones. I ate the food the bandits had left there. I took the bow and the arrows that had been theirs and taught myself to shoot so I could eat. I lived there for the winter growing stronger. I wanted to be a knight more than anything. I wanted to be the knight my father never was.”

            Danielle looked at Fabian who was scowling at her. “I wanted to be the kind of knight your father was. I wanted to be fearless. To be respected. I wanted people to know my name. I wanted to have a home to call my own and food in my belly every night. I wanted a bed to sleep in. When spring came, I cut off all of my hair, bandaged over my bosom and wore the tax man’s chainmail with my father’s sword and shield.

            That was the day I passed this cottage first. I saw you,” she looked at Lupita, “being thrown out by your father as he said you weren’t his daughter. I remembered my mother doing the same to me. I wanted to help you. We saw Fabian trying to save his father from the Loup Garous and I wanted to be the child who loved their da that much.

            There’s anger between the two of you because of… your ma. You can’t let that blind you to the love you have for each other. You’re all the family either one of you has. I have a mother who tells people that knew me all my life that I was never her daughter. Your da burnt his heart to keep you alive. I think he threw you out because he was scared, thinking he might lose you again. I thought we were the same when I saw you that first time. We’re not. You always had two parents who loved you.”

            Danielle looked at Atwanda. “You need to make sure she knows how you feel about her. War is coming to us. We have to make peace with our loved ones while we can.”

            Atwanda took his daughter’s hand. “I’ve always tried to do my best for you Lu. Always.”

            “I know pa. I’m sorry it took me this long to see it.” She gave her father a smile. Seeing two people who truly loved each other brought a tiny spark back from the brink of extinction inside Danielle. Like Fabian and his mother, it was soothing to see love among family. At the same time bitterness arose in her, jealousy.

“You’re a woman?” Fabian asked, as if nothing else had been said the whole time. Darren’s daughter was grateful to Atwanda and Lupita for staring at the knight as if he was mad.

            She stood and reached up beneath the linen shirt Fabian had given her. Tugging at the bandages beneath she unwound them. Round and round they went until her form was revealed. At last, she could breathe freely.

            First, she looked at Fabian. His eyes were popping out. Lupita didn’t look surprised. The smith’s daughter smiled. Had she known? Guessed? Danielle wondered.

            “Well, I never. I should have brought more wine for sure. I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to give up your pursuit of knighthood?”

            “You won’t tell anyone?” Danielle asked.

            “Certainly not. I’d never deprive the world of a hero as worthy as you.”

            “Mister Smith?” asked the bastard revealed.

            “I’ll not turn over another good woman without a fight.” Atwanda gave her a steady stare. “Fabian’s right though. I think we all need another drink.”

            Fabian promised to buy a round at the nearest tavern. When Danielle had strapped herself down again in the privacy of the bedroom, they set off to drink Fabian’s purse dry.