The Knights End

The Knight’s End is a follow on from The Novice’s Story.

The Novice’s Story and The Knight’s End, are prequels, a bit of scene setting, to The Demon’s Lure, a mini serial that I will publish in March.

The Demon’s Lure is set in the present day but the entities in it were summoned to this world by events that took place hundreds of years ago. The Novice’s Story and The Knight’s End tell of those.

The Knight’s End

The knight sagged in his saddle, his eyes closing as his horse ambled down the forest path. The sky darkened and dusk fell as he dreamed of the warm fire and the chance to bed a plump serving wench at the next inn.

His horse snorted and stopped, jolting him awake. “Come on you slovenly beast,” he jammed his spurs into his mounts side, but it refused to move. He looked ahead.

The girl was standing in the centre of the path. She was wearing the same white shift she had discarded in the convent’s chapel. He took off his helmet and shook his head as if trying to focus his vision, He was sure she had also been wearing it when they tied her to the stake and set the fire.

He slid from his horse and drew his sword. “Well little one,” he leered, “Are you a ghost? This sword has been blessed by the Bishop himself,” he held up the blade, “so I am sure it will send you to hell.”

He stopped. Now he was closer he could see her shift was scorched brown in places as if she had been in the fire. “Or did you escape the flames in which case I will poke you with this weapon again.” He jerked his hips forward.

The girl tipped her head so far to one side that for a moment he thought her neck was broken. She was looking behind him. He spun around.

A man was bent down loosening the girth of the saddle of his horse. The reins already lay tangled on the floor.

“Hey, what are you doing,” the knight shouted. As he started back towards them the saddle slipped to the ground and the horse skittered away down the track. “You bastard, you will pay for that,” the knight fumed as he neared the man.

He, or rather it, turned toward him. The human part was tall and muscular but its eyes blazed like hot coals. Below the waist its legs were hairier than a man’s and set at an odd angle. When the knight looked down he saw it was stood on cloven feet.

The beast snarled, horns burst from its hairless scalp and its mouth became a wolf-like snout, its jaws lined with glistening teeth.

“You devil,” the knight staggered back and raised his sword but something behind him blocked his flight.

“Meet my saviour,” the girl’s voice said in his ear.

The demon sprang past his blade and its teeth tore into his throat. His blood splattered across the path as his armour was ripped away.

They buried what they found of him in the churchyard. There was talk of wolves, although none had been seen or heard in the district for many years. Others said that his actions in the convent had not been blameless and that he had brought forth a demon to wreak revenge on him. After much debate his remains were buried in the furthest corner of the graveyard only just within the boundary of consecrated ground.

It was a simple grave but many years later a mysterious benefactor had marked the site with an ornate mausoleum.

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