Mickey Reichert - The legend of Nightfall

Oddly, of all his personae, it was Nightfall, himself, who liked to watch the dawn. He recalled nights in his childhood, when his mother or her client had barred him from the room, and he had hidden from the world and its dangers between the wheat stalks of a farmer’s field. He would awaken to sunrise creeping over a billowing sea of gold, mesmerized by the rainbow parade that preceded the sun. Legends spoke of the seven sisters on horseback towing the burning chariot across the sky, chasing night’s demons over the world’s edge and back into their hell. The young Nightfall would pretend that the twilight beauty was the sisters’ gift to him; that, one day, they would carry him across the horizon to a land where bowls of food sprang from the ground, where summer stayed all year round, and where the same man slept in a woman’s bed every night. The sisters would all be his mothers, playfully arguing over which loved him more, though he loved them all the same.

The pinkness faded, intertwined with, then replaced by, a pale, blue-white expanse, back-lit by yellow. Standing, he chuckled faintly at the reverie. Back in the days when I was as unenlightened as my master. He glanced at Prince Edward, watching the youth twist in his sleep, tangling himself into the blankets. Shaking his head at the spectacle, Nightfall amended. No. I think I was born more worldly than he is now.

Trotting to the pile of wooden stakes, he collected a handful and tossed them on the coals. Smoke poured from beneath one of the logs, then trickled into oblivion. Leaving the coals to smolder against fresh wood, Nightfall prepared a breakfast of bread, cheese, and fruit, leaving it in place for Edward’s awakening. Then, quietly sating his hunger on a slice of bread and a handful of winter berries, he finished preparing the packs for travel.

The horses stood in a row, alternating head to tail, swatting flies on one another’s faces. Still disliking the beacon whiteness of Ned’s gelding, Nightfall considered driving it away. But that would mean piling its share of the load onto the other two, already overburdened, horses. He combed the tangles from his red-brown hair, then set to grooming the mounts.

By the time Prince Edward awakened, all trace of dawn had left the sky. The fire flickered, orange and gold, over logs no longer recognizable as stakes. Nightfall had washed and shaven, the latter action taking the place of the ritual disguising that had grown so familiar over the years. He appreciated the time saved, though his face felt cold and his identity nakedly vulnerable. Despite years of perfecting his agility and sense of touch, he had only shaved a few times and appreciated the hand mirror he had taken from the palace. For clothing, the king had granted him only tunics, tabards, and breeks in Alyndar’s colors, apparently to remind him of his duty to Edward. As if this ceaseless grind of magic would let me forget.

Edward disentangled himself from the blankets. "Good morning, Sudian.” He sat up, his silks twisted, his yellow hair hanging limply into his eyes, and a pine cone stuck into the locks above one ear.

Fighting laughter, Nightfall paused longer than decorum demanded. "Good morning, Master." He passed the brush and mirror. Surely, Edward carried toiletries of his own; as heavy as the prince’s pack had seemed, Nightfall wondered if he had dragged along an entire vanity table. Still, the squire knew his manners would lose to humor if the pine cone remained in place too long. "I’ve got breakfast ready. And the horses. When you’re ready to leave, I’ll tie up the gear."

"Very good." Prince Edward accepted the objects, flipping errant strands back into place. The pine cone tumbled from its perch. Its touch made the prince jerk away with a suddenness that changed his expression from pleased to pained.

Just noticed the riding soreness, Nightfall guessed. He moved to the fireside, stirring a green twig through the embers, watching the prince from the corner of his eyes for no better reason than amusement.

In obvious discomfort, Edward lurched to his feet. Yet, though he moved with a painful slowness, he still managed to change into a fresh set of linens, replace his hauberk, and cover it with a woolen cloak without a single moan or complaint. Then, he wandered off toward the stream to wash.

Nightfall folded the blanket, replacing it with Edward’s effects. He seized on the prince’s absence to examine his personal gear. Plates of armor sandwiched a collection of folded clothing and spare boots. A book lay protectively wrapped in a pair of linen britches. A sack held a matching brush and comb encrusted with tiny pearls, a vial of perfume, leather soap, and sword oil. A waterskin sloshed, smelling of an exotic wine unfamiliar to Nightfall. A tooled leather, drawstring purse held twenty or thirty silver coins, five years’ wages to a laborer.

Nightfall closed the pack, securing everything except the pouch of silver which he left for Edward to carry on his person. Again, he sat by the fire just as the prince returned, clean and wet from the stream, his own morning ritual completed.

Edward took a seat on the log by the fire, starting in on the breakfast Nightfall had arranged. He stopped with a bite of cheese halfway to his lips. "Did you want to test it first?"

"Master, I’ve done that already."

"Fine." Edward put the food in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Aren’t you going to eat?"

Thinking it wiser not to confess that he had already done so, Nightfall accepted an apple and munched slowly. The warmth of the fire made a pleasant contrast to the morning breeze. Fully risen, the sun beamed through layers of needles. Comfortably full of rich bread and fruit and reasonably well rested, Nightfall felt content. Perhaps the king did do me a favor. The thought raised a sudden, goading stab from the oath-bond. Now all I have to do is figure out a way to get this child some land. Aware Edward did not like being questioned, Nightfall turned his query into a statement. "I was wondering where we were headed."

Edward tore a chunk from his bread, kneading it between his fingers. "East," he said. "We’re headed East."

Since Alyndar occupied the western most tip of the Yortenese Peninsula, the direction seemed obvious. "Well, I was just wondering if we had a certain place in mind. A city? A barony‘?"

"No." Edward clutched his bread, his gaze becoming distant. “We’ll go where the winds take us, spreading goodness where we can, enlightening the ignorant to the Father’s greatness, to the dignity and worth of all men and women."

Nightfall rolled his eyes. What star are you from? "I thought our mission was to get you landed."

"That’s secondary.” Edward put the bread into his mouth.

To you, maybe. Nightfall was beginning to remember why the king’s oath-bond was anything but a favor. Ned, would it save you any trouble if I just went mad right now? “Master, forgive my ignorance. But l always thought a king’s son was given land."

Prince Edward swallowed. "My brother, Leyne, is the crown prince. He inherits everything.”

"That’s more land than any one man can handle. Can’t he share?"

"That’s not how it’s done."

"Oh." The ways of royalty made little sense. To have so much, yet still not enough for his brother. Nightfall understood that men’s greed and covetousness expanded to cover all that they had, apparently no matter whether it was a crumb or a kingdom.

"My mother always planned for me to become part of Leyne’s household as a scholar. But Father believes I should prove myself worthy by winning land of my own." Prince Edward rose, holding the bread slice in one hand and drawing his sword with the other.

Nightfall skittered out of the way.

Caught up in his own heroics, Edward no longer seemed to notice his squire. He raised the blade in a salute to the gods. "And I would have it no other way. The kingdom of Alyndar has many brilliant thinkers, Father’s wisdom, and Leyne’s talent with words and weapons. Somewhere…” He gestured with the sword to indicate the world. “. .. out there is a kingdom, a barony, perhaps only a village that needs a leader like me."