The Forgotten

The prisoners had been led to the square where they would usually find the busy marketplace. Instead, they were delivered to find ropes and the executioner’s block. At the sight of the noose, many captives became erratic, trying to turn and run, though their only achievement was to fall to the floor.

After several moments one prisoner made a break for it and made it far enough to fall onto a guard who escorted them to the square. Both of them fell to the floor but the guard was able to make a quick recovery getting back to his feet.

A cold rage came over the guard and with no remorse, he started pounding the man with his iron baton.

Blow after blow smashed the prisoner’s torso, the cracking of bones heard on each strike. The prisoner went quiet, with the guard landing his last shot into the prisoner’s skull.

“Bloody hell, what the hell are you doing Vince?”

The guard Vince looked up as one of the mounted captains came over to him. He shrugged and replied, “He needed to learn a lesson.”

“A lesson? You just killed him.”

Seemingly only just realising the crevice in the prisoner’s skull, his only response was to unbuckle him from the chains so that no further movement in the line would be hindered.

Shaking his head, the mounted captain turned and muttered, “Luckily they’re to be hanged anyway.”

After the brutal death of one already, the prisoners lined up as the crowd of onlookers stared at them, shouting abuse at them, “Murderers! Traitors! Thieves! Rapists!”

Some of the people threw stale food at the prisons, though on hitting a guard everyone promptly stopped, a couple of people even took a step back as they did not want to receive any part of the beating that was inflicted on the prisoners.

They were lined up behind a raised throne, not seeing who sat on top though all clearly could guess.

Arthur and Rendall stood next to one another, being two of the first out of the prison they were near the end of the line. People would be walked up to the makeshift wooden blocks that they would stand upon as the knot was tied around their neck.

They stood there for several minutes, nothing happening nor anyone speaking. Arthur wasn’t sure whether they were trying to frighten them more or they were just waiting for something. The prisoners got anxious again, seemingly forgetting about their companion. Some tried biting into the chains or hitting them on the ground hoping they would break, yet they weren’t so lucky.

A minute passed and the delay became clear. Despite the clashing of swords and screams of dying men, Myval was speaking to someone in the crowd, yet the king showed no signs of fear from his tone.

As the clanking of swords and screams stopped, Arthur made out a few words that were exchanged and muttered to himself, “Armour? Dead generals? Swords that were thought to have all been lost?”

Pausing for a moment he went on, “Lynden, I pray you have a plan and aren’t that stupid.”

Turning to Rendall, he noticed the boy looking at him curiously, his silver eyes piercing his soul to an expectation that demanded he tell him what was going on.

Whispering to the lad, he said, “I believe that armour and sword the king is on about is referencing an order that had long been thought to no longer exist. They were called the Knights of Valok.”

Rendall looked even more confused than he had before, never had he heard of the order from anyone. Perhaps it was long before his time.

Interested but still unable to stop the scratching of his arm, he replied, “Who is it and why are they here?”

Before the old shaggy looking man could respond a guard saw the two talking and whipped both of their backs, hitting hard enough that it broke cloth and skin showing the crimson blood behind. They both fell to their hands and knees before being dragged up again to stand.

Not relenting, Arthur looked at the guard to make sure he didn’t hear him answer, “Just hold on Rendall, we’re going to be fine.”

The words did not comfort the boy, he had already accepted that death would greet him today. All he prayed for at this moment was the strength to stand and the strength to wield a bow as he wanted to take every last guard possible before he died.

He gave no reply to Arthur as he did not want him hit on his account again, and so he watched the scenes happening before him.