Sanctuary Peak

The wind was gentle, rustling the leaves softly and just barely stirring the surface of the water with its touch. Birds flew on this wind, singing their melodies with a cheerful voice in the brilliance of the sun, dancing in the air with graceful wings. A bee buzzed nearby as it flitted from one flower to the next between the reeds of the lakeshore and the calls of a duck guiding her little ones through their first dip into the water sounded from the farside. Altogether came each individual song, each individual beat, to form a beautiful symphony that could only be found in the wilds. It was one of the reasons he loved this place.

He moved then, his arm flying forward as his weapon flew from his grip with the motion, piercing the lake’s surface with a soft splash a short distance away. The wind did not cease to blow, the leaves did cease to rustle, the birds' songs never failed and neither did their dance stagger. The bee continued about its work and the duck did not cease her command of her ducklings. Not one part of this song he loved faded or stumbled out of step as he strode forward, feeling the water as it rose past his knees and the reeds as they scratched lightly against the exposed skin of his torso and arms. Four strides took him to his weapon, his spear, as it wobbled in the water and a single grip and pull revealed his prize and brought a slight smile to his face.

“You’re a beautiful one.” he mumbled softly to the fish that had grown still on the blade, his aim had been impeccable, piercing the creature’s eye and slaying it quickly so that it might not suffer. He turned then and strode back through the reeds to the shore again, passively working his prey loose from the spear as he broke through the brush and set his dripping feet onto the dry grass. A couple more strides took him to a lidded basket which he quickly opened before depositing his prize amidst half a dozen other fish that were the fruits of the cool morning’s labors.

Bending low, he gripped the sides of the basket and hefted it upwards, resting it upon his right shoulder, leaving his left free for his spear. He moved then, away from the water and to his home, to the simple single room cottage that rested in the shadows of the nearby trees. Each wall was built from logs stacked one upon the other in an overlapping pattern, ultimately coming to a point at the tip of the roof. The roof itself was largely composed of a series of large grass and reed bundles that he’d harvested from the lake and the surrounding forest of the mountain he’d come to call home. He passed between the series of large stones that outlined a path to his door, and opening it, he stepped beyond the threshold.

He didn’t spare a moment to glance about, simply leaning his wooden spear against the inner frame of the door and moving to the shelf that served as storage for his knives. Grabbing a thin blade carved delicately from a hard wood and simple wooden bucket shaped from a log before returning to the outside. Finding a favored stone just beyond his door, he sat down and went to work, his hands gliding through the familiar motions of descaling and cleaning the fish one by one. A task so simple, so familiar, that he did it without thought and, as always, with his hands occupied his mind was free.

Thoughts and imaginings flitted here and there, shifting from one subject to the next a dozen times in a bare few moments. He pondered the reason for the birds' choice songs, why they sang one or another at different times, each of their melodies were beautiful but he couldn’t help but ponder on the differences between them. He contemplated also his upcoming meal, the herbs and spices that he might have to further flavor the fish he would be roasting this evening and what he would be drying for later. He planned the weaving of more baskets and the spinning of more string in the coming days, in hopes of finally finishing that net he’d started a few months back. All these and more passed before his mind’s eye as he worked, they were familiar thoughts that flowed freely back and forth as he set his first fish aside and moved to grip the second. It was as he set to work on this second fish, that his mind was drawn further afield.

The glare of the light through the window was intense, harsh in the moment as it fell upon his closed eyes. The fine, red curtains were drawn as they always were, for he had long favored to rise with the sun and had always had love for the stars. He rose from the silken covers and quickly dressed, making himself presentable before departing from his chambers for, unknown to him then, the last time. He should have known something was off, when he opened his door and found Eliza, a nun whom he knew as friend, waiting at his door with a fearful standing.

“The Knight’s Council has summoned you Daniel.” He didn’t nod, not yet, for he saw that fear in her gaze, “What worries you, my friend?” She trembled slightly as she answered, “They will not listen, they are too involved in what has happened, they-?!” He rested a hand on her shoulder, quieting her before her growing hysterics could echo into the hall and further to ignorant ears. “The evidence that Sir Pierce and I uncovered and brought before them is immutable, they will have to act, even considering the titles of the accused.” she shook her head, tears beginning to glisten in her emerald eyes, “You hold too much faith in them.” He sighed heavily, knowing quite well the source of his friend’s fears, “I know you hold no trust for them, I merely ask that you trust me and Sir Pierce.” Her gaze met his own, a note of urgency in them, “They will not go against the Pope, no matter how he has trampled over our doctrine.” 

Before more could be said, a maidservant stepped into the hall and spoke, “The Knight’s Council awaits you in the Chamber of Judgement, Sir Daniel.” He smiled at hearing that, setting his hands reassuringly upon Eliza’s shoulders, “Put your fears to rest my friend, for if the council has gathered in judgment then, to my knowledge, there is only one sin that they could be addressing.” she bit her lip anxiously, looking away for a moment before taking a breath to steady herself and raising her gaze with an unsteady smile, “I’ll come with you-.” the maidservant spoke again then, “Mother Nancy has called for you Eliza, so I’m afraid that will not be possible.” The anxiety was born again in her eye at those words and he took a brief moment to comfort her, “I’ll be fine Eliza, besides we still have to read the next chapter of Crimson Feathers together.” She chuckled slightly at his insistence, her unsteadiness fading, “I’ll see you in the library this evening then?” He smiled, “Wouldn’t miss it.” His words were spoken in jest and assurance, before he turned and marched down the hall toward his destination.

He barely noticed as his movements grew harsher, more severe as he remembered, recalled what had awaited him the Chamber of Judgement. ‘I should have listened to her.’

“What do you mean?!” he couldn’t help his shocked exclamation as he processed the councilman’s words, shocked at what was said, “As previously recounted, Sir Daniel, you stand accused of Slander, Forgery, Rape and Heresy. How do you plead?” He shook his head, barely suppressing a growl, utterly affronted at the false accusation, “Not Guilty! Regardless of that though, I know our laws well, who is my accuser? I am entitled, by right, to face them here!” the councilman responded quickly, harshly, “It is The Pope who accuses you.” He did growl this time, “The Heretic!? You would take the word of a proven heretic when he turns his own crimes upon-!?” “SILENCE!!” He froze, startled by the sudden interruption by Sir Anthony, who served as an elder of the council, “We are quite aware of your treachery ‘Sir’ Daniel! Sir Pierce has testified to witnessing you craft your, so called ‘evidence’, yourself!” The declaration staggered him, left him reeling, “No, I know my brother! He would never speak such deceit to you!” What he saw when he looked up into the elder knight’s eyes stunned him, the mirth that flickered maliciously in his pale gaze. “Truly? Do you truly think him so loyal to you that he would hide such things from us?” Lady Mala remarked then, tauntingly, “Why don’t you ask him then?”

His blood froze in his veins at the sight, at the one who walked out from behind the curtain, looking a shadow of his former self. Gone was his cotton tunic and breaches, gone were his marks of honor as one of the greatest knights the order had ever produced and in their place was the harsh sack cloth worn by those taking penance, but these were minor things to Daniel’s eye. His posture was slouched and his gaze was low, as though he didn’t have the fortitude to look out into the room, he looked like a broken man, his valor stolen and his courage shattered. It was a sight that horrified him, to see one such as his brother in arms, a fellow knight of the order reduced to this… It was not something he would stand for. 

“Sir Pierce? What has been done to you?” He flinched at the question, though Daniel could admit that he’d let some of his anger into his words, so he didn’t entirely blame him. Still, what could he feel but rage? To see one he knew to be a strong, good man, reduced to this, a pale shadow of himself, like a lion with its teeth torn out and its mane sheared away. He clenched his fists and jaw at the sight, having a vicious desire to lay his hands upon those who had done this to his friend and fellow knight. A list whose names surprised in ways that left his heart wounded and blood searing.

“Isn’t it obvious? He has acknowledged his sin and is now on the path to penance.” Lady Hill spoke this time, a smile like that of a serpent upon her lips as she mocked one far greater than she. Daniel didn’t get the opportunity to respond to the witch, for what else could she be having hidden such malice in her heart? Rather, another of the council spoke, “We can do the same for you, set you on the path to redemption.” Sir Berrick said softly, though his own eye held that same mocking edge as the others, “You need simply to recant, none aside from us know and your shame need not be made known to any other, you need only-.” He had had enough, “Never!”

The council was taken aback, startled at his viciousness, Hill recovering first, “You should watch your tongue, ‘Sir Knight’, Pride is one of the seven deadlies after all.” He retorted her mocking accusation without hesitation, “It is not I who courts it, ‘Lady’ Hill.” her gaze flashed with fury, not indignation, that would imply there was some falsity on his part or ignorance on hers. No, he saw clearly now, she was a snake incensed at being discovered and, given how many other eyes shared that nature… he knew, ‘I should have listened to Eliza.’ Sir Anthony answered this time from his high seat, “You would sooner be sullied? Sooner see your entire line dishonored than acknowledge what you’ve done?” he continued, his tone attempting something of reason but failing to hide the accusing venom that was its heart, “You are the last of your family Sir Daniel. There are none who could regain the honor of your forefathers’ if you-.” He didn’t allow the snake to finish, “The only ones staining their fathers’ names here are seated across from me.” He pressed on before they could recover from his interruption, “You serpents, children of evil, you wear a valorous cloak but you’ve no courage, you’ve no strength of heart or spirit.” He saw their wrath building, but he wouldn’t stop, he would leave no truth unspoken, for he already knew his fate to be sealed, “Know this, I will never bow to deceit nor treachery, for I bow only to He Who Is!” He concluded a moment later, “And, as much as you might wish and squirm and scheme, you will never be Him, you will be lowly serpents for that is all you are.”

He grunted slightly, surprised as a sharp pain pierced his dark recollections and looked down, the final fish was in his hand, the same hand that he had inadvertently cut in his growing anger. He took a breath, setting the fish aside for a moment and moving to wash his hand in the crystalline waters of the lake. Those memories knocked on the door once more, but he banished them, he had lingered in those shadows for too long as it was and it was well past time to move on. 

The cut stung as the water washed over the break in his flesh, the pain was familiar, the pain brought from the cleansing of an injury. It was a familiar pain, both in spirit and body as he stepped once more beyond his old wounds and felt that gentle balm to his soul. He recalled well his journey, the steps that carried him here, the near escape from his execution by Eliza’s hand and the subsequent flight she’d urged him to. He remembered the questions that had assailed him then, the doubts, the fears, as he fled beyond the borders of the kingdom and into the Deadlands. Finally, he recalled his trek up this very mountain, his desperate ascent which he didn’t remember finishing.

He raised his gaze from the water, through which crimson roots of his blood now grew and looked about. Taking in the lush greenery to which he’d woken, the waterside by which he’d opened his eyes, the sanctuary to which he’d been ushered. He smiled then, recalling the peaceful years that he’d known here, the weeks spent building his cottage, chopping down and shaping the logs by his own hand, gathering up the bundles of reeds and grass that became the roof and so on. He rose from the waterside and stepped out from the lake, a smile upon his face as he strode once more to finish cleaning his dinner.

Taking up the fish once more, his smile broadened and he uttered, “Thank You, O’ Lord, for saving me from my accusers, for carrying me here and providing me a home.” He reached in, removing the last of the more distasteful parts of the fish, before carrying them to the edge of the fire pit, setting them beside it as he lit the kindling. “Thank You, for healing of heart and body, for ushering me up my mountain.” he turned then as the fire began to spark, growing as a gentle breeze fell upon it, nurturing it as he grasped what had been removed from the cleaned fish. “Thank You,-” He began, before dumping the remnants of the fish back into the lake, to feed the others who dwelled in it, “-for taking the rot out of my life and the weight from my shoulders.” Finally, he returned to his fire, which had grown enough to begin cooking his meal and he concluded, “And Thank You, for providing food for the evening and I pray Your Blessing upon it. Amen.”