Excerpt: The Faithful

“You stand before the greatest hero Tel Adur has ever had. The most valued champion any king has known.” John walked slowly toward the guard, his hands up, unarmed, speaking slowly, calmly, fervently. “In the Hall of Records there is an entire wing dedicated to his deeds. In that wing there is an entire volume dedicated solely to the men he has bested in single combat. It would take the scribes of Tel Adur not more than an hour to add the tale of the bridge, and the last words of the one who would not let him pass.”

And then John was standing next to the man, staring intently at him, his voice dripping with foretold death.

“What would you have those words be?”

For an instant, the man wavered. The tip of his sword dipped almost imperceptibly and a wave of fear and the recognition of hopelessness washed over his face. But he was a soldier, trained in the acceptance of impossible odds, sworn to a duty that he would uphold to the best of his abilities to his dying day. Even if that day were today.

His hand steadied. The tip of his sword came back up to the ready. His eyes cleared and he regained the purpose that drove him. The gravelly voice said firmly, “Nevertheless.”