The Knight Behind the Pillar (33 page)

             
Determination faded a little and comfort was not given by listening to the night sounds of the fort, muffled voices, enthusiastic laugher and footsteps that I feared would get closer.  Within the confines of the wall I could also hear the rats and pretended they were just mice.

             
It took a while to reach the panel I knew served Arthur’s room.  I had been careful and took my time and yet the time arrived too soon.  Time was difficult to judge in the darkness, I could not think how long I took listening before I was sure there was no movement on the other side of the entrance to Arthur’s room.

             
I waited a little longer to be certain.

             
My controlled breath and thumping heartbeat haunted me in the dark.  Alone I sat there and fought my fears, my demons and my father.  Finally the panel made only a slight sound when I pushed it.  I expected this and was ready to run should there be any responding sounds from the room beyond.  Reward came from there being no reaction to my break in, but I waited for a time again before I lifted my legs through.  Cautiously and holding my breath I entered my other life as a thief once more.

             
The fire in the room was low, but it seemed very warm to me from just being in the cold.  A single candle with only minutes to go before it died was next to the bed.  These were the only sources of light, but certainly it was enough to see by.  I doubted the light was low enough to disguise me if Arthur was to look.

             
The room was mostly as I remembered except for a heap of clothes on the floor, their former wearer covered by a similar heap of blankets on the bed.  Also there was now a large box on the far side and on the table the rusty old sword was again placed, but had been joined by the new one and some other items also piled up nearby.  The candlelight flickered as it struggled to survive and began to fight and I double checked to ensure no movement from the bed as the shadows moved around the room.

             
Now only breathing through just my open mouth, having forgotten any other way, I headed towards the swords.  It was not far, but never before had I needed to work out each and every step.  It was as if my ability to do tasks normally without a thought had been stripped away by nerves and I had to think about the most basic movements.  How far to step, how much weight to place on each foot and just how quick could I get back to the stairs all ran through my head.

             
Looking at the table I could see more as I approached, now a jewelled dagger was next to the swords, also two rings had been discarded, a large gold one and one with a gemstone but not sure what colour given red glow of the fire.  At my feet was a pile of fine cloth and then I froze.  Voices outside the room!  I dropped to a crouch, but looking around there was nowhere to hide.  I was halfway between the open panel and table.  There were two voices, deep tones and I assumed them to be men, but the door blocked actual words.  Then I twisted around and looked at the door, to my relief I saw it was also bolted at the top.  Arthur had ensured no one would come in and he also had not been stirred by the voices perhaps in part thanks to the long day riding.

             
The voices continued for a while and I remained rooted to the spot.  I was still thinking about breathing and found I had to catch up now and again when I forgot.  I tried to relaxed a little and looked around some more.  On the floor near the table was also a full sized shield that caught my eye, it draw me to it and had a silhouette of a dragon from a side view.  The dragon was dark in colour, but given the available light the actual colour was unclear.  Mythical creatures were dragons, monsters in the deep wood or faraway lands.  All just more stories to scare little children.  There were clasps for cloaks, cloaks themselves and yet more clothes, a plate, a small tapestry and other items were piled to the side of the table.  These were gifts I now understood.  Coronation presents or could be described as tributes and bribes to please their new king.  Maybe I should have got Arthur a gift I wondered, it had not occurred to me until now.  Only the value of any gift of mine would be insignificant in comparison to these treasures.

             
Outside the voices dropped away and I assumed they were now walking away down the hallway.  Regular breathing of the lump on the bed had continued throughout.  Now I decided to move again, but a wave of regret and guilt hit me once more and took an effort to push it aside in my head.  Since swearing half naked in the river I would be honest with him, I had almost continuously lied, spied and any moment now I was about to steal from him.  I had one last chance to stop myself!

             
I turned back to face the swords and with just a few more steps I could reach out and take them.

             
Do I stop?

             
Admit everything tomorrow? 

             
No.

             
Carefully I fought my shaking hands to pick up the sword and scabbard from the lake.  Gemstones decorated the scabbard in a line down its length, each beautiful and reflecting the fire light.  Detailed patterns were etched into iron to link each precious stone, deep enough to touch and follow with your fingers and yet smooth.  This was a rare mark of quality as my fingers could run up and down the metal and its engravings and not be cut or gain a blister.  At the same time there were no scratch marks from its making, not one that I could see in the polished finish of the etchings, at least not apparent in this poor light.  Truly it was an appealing prize for a thief.  The sword itself was very plain.  It was expertly finished to such a point that there was no need for any leather strapping to save your hands from being cut as the hilt was again smooth to touch.  It fitted your hand perfectly and the balance was good.  It was strangely warm to hold, but then before being drawn into some misguided belief of magic I found the reason.  There was no mystery, as it had been left near the fire.

             
I then awoke from my admiration of the sword and scabbard and pulled them quickly close.  I glanced across to check on Arthur again.  He was still and undisturbed.  Next I took the dagger and held it with the sword ensuring they made no sound when placed together.   I took the rings and a highly decorated clasp as well.  I decided if it were to look like a thief had taken the sword, he would have taken other things as well.  As yet I had no idea what to do with them all once I was out of the room.

             
My raid over I retraced my steps.  It seemed a long journey back to the open panel and twice Arthur shifted a little causing me to freeze and panic both times.  Before entering the darkness of the stairwell, a relief to reach, I looked again towards the bed.  Saying nothing out loud, I mouthed sorry and allowed the fear that I might be wrong wash over me for one last time before I shock myself free of it and left. 

             
              Once I was back within the darkness of the stairwell stopping my bounty knock together and not make a noise became far more difficult.  Space was more confined and I needed to shut the panel door.   With a lot of patience and concentration I placed the items on a higher step, feeling my way around with little help from the minimal light escaping from the room.  I took time closing the panel door and avoiding any sound.  Then to be sure, I waited again to listen for Arthur waking and realising what was missing.  Nothing was heard, yet I felt no joy in the achievement.

             
The grip of fear of discovery had not left me and I needed to get out of the stairwell first undetected and hide the sword and other items as soon as I could.  After that I would need to live with the remorse of my actions and forever be terrified of being found out or the sword being found.  Worst would be the need to face the victim of my actions every day when Kay might meet his brother.  At least it was now far more likely he would stay alive to be seen every day and might live long enough to do something great as a king.  I hoped that such thought would cure my guilt as I might one day witness Arthur’s future achievements.

             
I turned back to the steps and felt around for the sword, but then knocked something small and immediately guessed it was one of the rings.  At once I withdraw my hand as if to avoid being burnt.  Had I knock it too far?  My heart stopped and my worst fear was confirmed as suddenly the loudest sound I had ever heard echoed as its source bounced its way down the steps unseen.  I winced at each and every step the ring hit and dim it made until finally nothing.  How far it had gone I had no clue.  After a minute I realise the only sound now was the rhythmic pounding of my head so I guess my heart had started again.  I had frozen and dared not move, but I was being daft.  It was unlikely a ring escaping would wake Arthur, the rats made far more noise.  None decided at that moment to assure me of this fact and remained silent.

             
Logic fought panic and finally gained ground.  There was still nothing to be heard from the room and so I allowed myself to breathe again.  This was to the relief of my chest beginning to badly hurt as it desperately needing air.  If they remember the stairway, I knew Arthur or others would find the ring with some light to hand as I had no hope in doing so now in the dark.  This would mean they would work out that the thief came this way, but then this would be obvious given a guard stood somewhere on the other side of Arthur’s bolted door.

             
Just beyond the stairway was the rest of the fort and for the first time I started to think on how I was going to get pass the guards at the gates.  How did you avoid drawing attention to holding a collection of gold and things a humble squire should not have to hand even if they were once a prince?  Even if I explain I was on some errand I would be remembered as being present once the sword was announced as missing and soon found out.  The lost ring then gave me an idea with what to do with the rest of the items.  I gathered them together and instead of going down to the exit, I went up.

             
Arthur’s room was not at the very top of stairs and I climbed my way slowly pass another floor and was almost to the roof and top of the tower.  I knew there was no access to the roof itself this way, but I had a plan.  After a while the space between stairs and ceiling got a lot narrower to a point you ended up crouching on your hands and knees.  Then the stairs just ended and I faced a small section of wall, a curious arrangement I never understood.  I did not so much see the wall in the dark gloom, but I did know this wall was there and could feel it.  I knew this tower and could distinguish which side of it I was on having been running around and exploring all of it for the last few years.  Shortcuts to save time, to hide from the trouble that always followed me and so there was little left of my limited world I did not know.  Despite a recent patch repair, a stone was loose and there was a cold draft.  I pushed to loosen the stonework a little further and eventually I managed to pull away a piece and had my hand in the gap.  The dark that surrounded me was, well, very slightly less dark than it was before.  Soon with my arm right in, I could just reach the emptiness of the outside world beyond.

             
First the ring!  I pushed my hand through and dropped it outside.  I heard nothing, only imagined the ring falling through the night air, perhaps hitting the side of the tower once or twice and then landing on the riverbank below.  The main tower formed a corner of the battlements with the walls continuing both north one way and east the other before leading around to the training grounds.  I was on the south west side of the fort and so I was at one of the nearest points to the river.  At least I hoped I had remembered right and below was marsh, reeds and mud before you reached the river and not instead someone wondering why the sky was raining gold and sending men to find out why.

             
Next the dagger and continued to hoped or rather prayed for my life that no one was looking or had exceptional hearing.  After the dagger quickly followed the clasp and others until I was left with the sword and its scabbard.  I hoped the marsh and mud was enough to bury the stolen items or if found it would look like the thief was planning to pick them up out there later.

             
Remembering Arthur’s words, it was the scabbard that he believed would protect him from harm.  The sword on the other hand was a great sword and I was not sure what that meant.  Keeping things simple I had concluded it was the scabbard that was the problem.  I withdrew the sword from the scabbard and it hummed like bell.  If the sword was found it did not matter.  Besides the more I got rid of, the less it felt I was thieving if I applied a bit of imagination.

             
I took the sword and without a second thought pushed it as hard as I could through the opening.  This time I attempted to propel it as far as possible to at least try to minimise the chances of it hitting the tower on the way down.  Breathing again I was left with the wrought iron and jewelled scabbard.  This was more difficult to deal with.  It was this gift from the false spirit I knew I could not risk being found outside and still allow Arthur to declare himself indestructible.  What to do with it was another question, one I wrestled with as I felt my way back down the star well. 

             
              It took an age to reach the bottom step and on route were cobwebs, dirt, damp and lots of scratches.  No doubt I looked a state.  At the bottom landing I stood up straight again, be it in a shallow puddle.  Some light filtered in from the door to the hallway and I made a brief attempt to brush myself down, still keenly aware I needed to get away.