Chapter No. 24 Fortitudo

But his bow abode in strength, and the arms of his hands were made strong by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob;

Paladin watched them from the shadows, these two youngsters dressed in the accouterments of war preparing to go on a quest of knighthood. To become a knight, a young man must go out and prove his worthiness. Apprentice knights go forth in twos or threes and challenge enemy knights, who often are doing the same. The object of the quest: colors. Each knight has a small pennon attached to the comb on the back of his helmet, his colors and the object of individual combat. These colors are to be protected at all costs.

He had no qualms about allowing them to go off like this. Mara had more than enough skill and power to protect them both, and his son had progressed quickly in his warrior abilities, mostly because of the influence of this girl that some called a witch. He and many at the enclave felt that the fate of the rebel cause rested in this enigmatic girl and his son.

They and their mounts were outfitted for battle, they in full plate armor and their mounts barded in steel, with gleaming chamfrons to protect the animal's head, segmented cirnets along its neck, and fluted peytrals and cruppers around its body. The two apprentice warriors looked like little metal statues sitting on huge metal horses. Overloaded with armor, they couldn't travel very far or fast, but it was necessary in these dangerous times to have the latest protection against crossbow and sword. In the long past age of chivalry, full armor was not needed. Knights-to-be went out wearing surcoats emblazoned with their colors over chain mail.

Mara lowered her faceplate and turned to Hilton. "Are you ready, young Hilton?"

He lowered his face shield. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Mara urged her mount into action but it was a trot, not a gallop. Hilton followed her and soon moved alongside.

"I suppose you want to take the point when we challenge," Hilton said.

"No. We must attack as a unit."

He laughed nervously. "That's a switch."

"Don't worry, young Hilton. You will do well."

He wasn't as confident. Pretending at war was not the same as the real thing. Death was a real possibility for any knight-to-be on quest. But, it wasn't death that scared him so much as the possibility of screwing up.

After passing through the narrow hidden passage, they descended to the valley of Arlette, a dense forest near the Northern Providence. Narrow trails and glades were its only open areas. No army could maneuver in this valley, making it ideal for personal combat.
But the window of opportunity was narrow. If they didn't find opponents during this day, the chances of advancing to full knighthood would be slim at best.

They trotted their mounts slowly along trails lined by walls of aspens, birch and oak, a forest canopy providing confusing patterns of shadow and sunlight. A cool breeze did little to relieve the humidity.

"It's going to take me some time to get used to wearing all this armor," Hilton said as he tried to keep his horse from pulling too close to Mara. "I feel like I'm roasting in a can."

"You'll get used to it," Mara said without turning around.

"I wished we didn't have to wear all this. It provides little relief from the stifling heat of summer."

"Would you prefer to go into battle in your birthday suit?"

"Of course not," he shot back. "But I don't see why we have to wear all this heavy gear."

"No use complaining, young Hilton. We must wear this malevolent equipment if we wish to be successful."

"Speaking of equipment," Hilton said. "Why did you elect to use dual swords?"

"Morton suggested it. He said I had the necessary strength and skill to use them."

Hilton sniggered. "I would never be good enough with two swords. I can barely handle one."

"You are much better than you think, young Hilton."

"Those swords of yours look interesting. Where did they come from?"

"They were given to me by Morton. He says master sword smiths made them on the Island of Nippon. They work the metal over and over to remove all bubbles and blemishes, making them both extremely hard and sharp."

"I have heard of such masters. All warriors of the realm revere their work. They must be very valuable."

"Their value will be determined in battle."

Hilton swallowed. The thought of battles did little to quiet his queasy stomach. 

When three Terrin knights spotted Mara, they burst into laughter.
"What's this--a female knight?"

"This bitch and her lackey think they can take us on?"

"This will be an easy victory."

Mara turned to Hilton. "Let's teach these jesters a lesson."

Hilton swallowed hard. "Let's do it."

The idea of close individual combat frightened Hilton. Instead of throwing the spear at the enemy as they had done in ancient battles, modern warriors have to deliver it first class, riding on horses head on at breakneck speeds, trying to ram the sharp metal spike of their modern spear--called a lance now--into the enemy. A lot of things can go wrong with this plan. For one, if you don't make contact first, you're going down, and the ground is hard, especially wearing armor. For another, you run the risk of damage to your arm or shoulder in the collision, or worse yet your horse could bolt, throwing you and then trampling, dragging, or just plain kicking you. Oh, how steep are the wages of war.

Mara and Hilton lowered their lances and began their charge. Two of the enemy knights made ready to counter them while the third kept back. The two combatant pairs made contact at full gallop to the sound of clanking and thumping. Mara unseated her man, nearly bending him in half, and she glanced briefly at Hilton as he struggled to get up after being knocked to the ground. She advanced on the third knight and easily bested him. She turned her mount, drew one of her swords, advanced to the first knight, who was in the process of getting to his feet, and whacked him across the side of his helmet, spitting it. He kissed the ground for a second--and last--time.

Hilton just barely managed to get up before his opponent approached with a menacing sword poised to sever his head. He quickly drew his sword and countered the blow, but the momentum forced him to his knees. Using the sword as a crutch, he rose to his feet, gripped his sword with both hands, spun around and delivered a blow of his own to his opponent's midsection, unhorsing him.

Mara dismounted and rushed to the third knight who was having a more difficult time getting up. She had no problem spiking him through the eye slit of his helmet. She rushed back to find that Hilton had slain his man after a fierce sword fight.

"I thought you needed my assistance," she said. "I see that I was in error."

He returned his sword to its scabbard. "It was close, but I got him."

She pointed to his helmet. "Get his colors. You only need one more to be knighted."

"I hope I don't stiffen up before the next contest. That fall banged me up a bit."

"You'll heal, young Hilton. Just think about the bath tonight."

"The way I feel, you'll have to lift me into the bath."

She laughed. "I can do that."

A metal missile glanced off her helmet. She reacted by grabbing her crossbow, taking careful aim at the crossbow shooter up in a tree, and pulling the trigger.

"Get moving," she shouted.

She took several more glancing bolt hits, but her next shots hit home, killing the shooter. She followed after Hilton, easily catching up to him.

Hilton released a disgusted breath. "I thought it was against the code of chivalry to use bowman."

"If it is, they paid the price for their sins against chivalry."

"Good."

After riding down a winding trail for an hour with no new challenges, Hilton was beginning to lose confidence in his ability to make knighthood.

"I fear that my chances for another color are fading with the day."

Mara stopped and raised her visor. "You must learn patience, young Hilton. The news of our presence in this place must surely be spreading afar by now."

"You should keep your visor down," Hilton said. "There may be more archers around."

"I have many more bolts left to dissuade them."

"I've never met anyone like you," Hilton said. "You act as if you're having fun."

"I find it a waste of time to fret about something I can't do anything about. We have to follow the tradition of Knighthood, even though it is completely ridiculous."

"Not to mention, dangerous."

She turned quickly, startling Hilton. "What's wrong?"

"It seems that your next pennon color has found us."

Hilton stared at where Mara was looking and finally saw that five enemy knights approached.

"We're always outnumbered. It isn't fair."

Mara laughed. "We're better than a whole parcel of Empire knights."
She pulled in front of Hilton and lowered her lance. "Time to go to work."

Two enemy knights rode at Mara side by side. She waited to the last second to jerk her horse to the right of both of them. She swept her lance across both of their helmets, breaking their necks and knocking both of them to the ground.

Hilton came behind her and collided with a third knight. His lance caught the enemy in the neck, nearly severing his head. The sight of Mara and Hilton racing at them caused the two remaining knights to turn and ride off.

Mara pulled her horse up. "Leave them go. We have our necessary colors now and night is soon upon us."

Hilton raised his visor and blew out a relieved breath. "You won't get an argument out of me."

The muffled sound of a waterfall echoed in the gully below. A meandering stream snaked around rocks and broken stone, gurgling white water over them. Hawks and falcons swirled above searching for prey. Sparrows and finches voiced alarm to many others perched in trees. They took little note of two knights carefully working their mounts up a narrow winding trail alongside a high cliff.
Mara pulled up and turned to look down.

"What's wrong," Hilton asked. "You're making me nervous looking back like that."

"I see a strange beast," she said. "It looks like a horse with a horn."

He looked down. "Maybe it's a buck."

"No," she said. "It's a horned horse."

"You obviously have much better vision than I do."

Mara looked at him. "If only I could turn around. I would go back down to take a better look."

Hilton raised his faceplate to reveal a furled brow. "I wouldn't try it, if I were you. If your horse slips, it's a long way down."

She turned to look back down.

He decided to add more persuasion. "Besides, our mounts are tired, we're tired, and our lances are casualties of battle. We can ill afford to take on additional combat, especially at dusk."

After glaring at him for several moments, she started to move again. Hilton sighed his relief and followed after her.

They made their way to a mesa above where trees were sparse and the ground was flat and covered with grasses of various varieties, making their final approach easier. They stopped to rest their mounts and elected to rest their bodies as well on a large flat outcropping of rock near a clump of trees.

"Do you really think that it was a horned horse?" Hilton asked.

Mara's eyes flashed with annoyance. "Yes, it was. I plainly saw it."

Hilton shook his head. "I know of no such beast."

"It more than likely has no knowledge of you, young Hilton."

That brought a weak smile to his face. "Your wit is as sharp as your vision."

He expected a smile in return, but what he saw was a face full of awe. He turned to see what she was looking at.
He jumped up. "Oh, my lord. What in the devil is-—"

"It's not from any hell," she said, getting up. She pointed at him. "See. I told you it was a horned horse."

"It followed us up the trail," Hilton said, his eyes wide with wonder. "Why did it do that?"

Mara wasn't listening. She was slowly moving toward the beast, and to Hilton's surprise, the beast was not retreating. She removed her gauntlet and dared to touch it. The beast appeared to enjoy her hand touching it.
"I think it likes me," she said, turning to look back at Hilton.

The horse reared its head.
She patted the side of its neck. "Easy, big fellow."

"It's not a fellow," Hilton said as he cautiously approached.

Mara looked. "You're right, young Hilton." She patted the horse again. "Sorry about that."

The beast shook its head as if admonishing her.

"I've never seen a horse of this coloring," Hilton said.

"I've never seen a horse with a horn," Mara said. "Maybe pink is the normal color for this species."

"Yes, but what species?"

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe your father can tell us."

His eyes widened. "Surely, you're not going to take this strange beast back."

"Why not. It likes me. Why else would it have followed us?"

"They'll fear it," Hilton said. "They'll think it's your evil familiar."

"Ignorance is the work of evil. Does this creature appear evil to you?"

"No, but I am not ignorant."

"Good. You can help me saddle and outfit it with armor."

"What? This is a wild beast. It will not permit you to mount it."

She smiled at him. "I think it will, young Hilton. I think it will."

He shook his head and sighed.