The Writings of a Paladin: That I Am Still Here (06/19/05)

Looking at the last entry in this worn tome, I see quite some time has passed since last I made an entry. And that I am still here to make another entry is the first thing of note, I suppose, for when last I wrote, it was on the eve of what we all felt at the time would be a catastrophic event of magnaneous proportion and unknown form, possibly even spelling out the doom of all Ashford. That, happily, is not what came to pass, evident by the fact that I am here and writing once again. Suffice it to say that the evil was vanquished, not without some personal injury on the part of most of The Six, but all have now well recovered, without lasting after-effects, and life has indeed trudged onward. I wear still the Eye of Hades around my neck, the stone dangling from its braided leather bindings, and hidden from plain sight underneath my shirt, for two main reasons: one that I continue to recall the circumstances of its acquiral, and what transpired immediately afterward, for those who forget the past are doomed to relive it - a prospect I think, for me at least, most unpleasant, and not what I wish see come to fruition; and two, no doubt this particular talisman has some property which I have not fully explored yet and I would hope that in the future I might have occasion to meet someone who would explain that to me, were I to show them the stone. And yet there is a third reason, that my mind now just calls into being - it is not without imparting some feeling of protection and even peace to my oft troubled nights of late, that I reach up and have my fingers touch the coolness of the stone - to recall all that I have endured - and perhaps lend some measure of comfort that I can yet endure whatever the future might hold for me. But, that is yet to be known, of course....until I am long laid in the earth and these writings find their way into the hands of someone who would come far behind me, in the history of things.




Such maudlin thoughts. Not my intent this night, not at all; yet I allow my pen to write, almost of its own volition, the thoughts in my mind that oft I would not express in the harsh reality of daylight. So be it.



For a while thereafter, life for me settled into a comfortable monotony. The Countess Garrison cared for my injuries and I healed quick enough...not only physically, but my heart, as well, as I found myself more and more drawn to her. Pene is....well....as remarkable a person as I have ever met, made more so by the fact that she is a woman, extraordinary in these times, and a soul to which I am so completely drawn. It is as if we are two halves of the same coin, twin souls in different bodies. I can see by the expression on her face her thoughts, and low and behold, they would be my own, in the same situation. Most times there is little need of speech between the two of us - we communicate by way of knowing glances - and rarely are we wrong about what the message one to the other is. Not since Maria have I felt such - peace. And yet it even transcends that, for the love between Maria and I was so young, so brief, so volitile with passion which sometimes obscured our vision of each other. That is not to say there is not passion between Pene and I, on the contrary....but perhaps because I am older now, whether actually wiser or merely more experienced, I cannot say, but one or the other for sure....the passion now is tempered with a cool center of respect for the persons we both are, separate and individual, who we bring to stand before each other, naked and unafraid of revealing raw feelings and innermost fears. Pene has become for me the soulmate I never thought to find. And as the days moved on, I found myself depending on her presence more and more....so much so that I have proposed to her....and she now wears my ring in anticipation of the day when we shall make our union a public reality. No man hath greater reason to give thanks than I, now.



Which I do, bowing to my God, Gwyn Ap Nuad, White Son of Darkness, God of war, death, the hunt, and the patron God of fallen warriors, to accept my thanks for her, as I look over at her sleeping form, stretched out on her blanket beneath the stars, as I remain awake and writing - or such was my excuse to her for not lying down with her to sleep this eve. While the writing was something I needed to do, to be sure, the other reason was to act as guard, watching into the night, for we are on the brink of some encounter tomorrow and I know not what to expect. Tis doubtful I could sleep anyway, for that reason, and for yet others, most of which are trivial I think, save for one. I worry for those I have befriended and now left behind....three in particular that I have invited to come to the Garrison estate, in the hopes that they meet there and develop a friendship among them to play off one another. I cannot help but see the same kind of need in each one, although to express that to them face-to-face I have not, nor would I, for they must find their own way themselves. Still....I can help in the cause by manipulating things so that they have the opportunity to meet, hopefully to become friends, and thereby support each other by their strengths and help each other in overcoming their weaknesses....and with Pene and I absent now for a while, it is my hope that they would do just that. To each, I made the request that I needed their help with the other two....and none of the three have knowledge of my conversations with the others. So, it is with great anticipation that I have reason to return swiftly and see if my plan has blossomed and the three - Dove Moonsong - Grace of Earendil, my own and only sister - and Maya Gilmour - have become friends.



And yet there is another reason that not only this night, but most of late, pass with interruption, or long sleepless periods, for me. I have prayed to my god to forget her, or rather, forget the thoughts I seem to have about her. I have worked at my vocation, the training of Pene's new horse, and others at her estate, until I am ready to drop from exhaustion. I have given myself over to seeing the value in the life I have now, with Pene by my side, knowing how utterly lost I would be without her. Still....still....there is the miniscule nagging at my heart....of the woman who makes it skip a beat every time I happen to see her. For a time, I thought it merely overzealous graditude - she did save my life, after all - and then I thought it that small jealous streak that I harbor, a fault I am not proud of, but part of me none-the-less, that any woman so attracked to me might also be attracked to someone else as well. Either of those, however, I could have dispensed with by now. And she remains. Or, rather, thoughts of her remain. And that heart-stopping, fist- to-the-gut feeling of breathlessness whenever I see her. I have taken to riding when the feelings threaten my sanity - hard and fast through the woods in the deep of night - and I am sure that my stallion will be relieved once these irregular outings cease - or at least he will be more rested, not having his sleep interrupted in the middle of the night. Trouble is....I know not when that may be....or how to bring it about. And so, for now....I ride, late into the night, to chase the thoughts of her from my mind.



Which is how I came to meet the Seer, a woman named Raven, quite a beauty and apptly named, for her hair does shine like a raven's wing. It was but a few nights ago on one of my restless journeys to nowhere that I happened upon her....and the words she had for me have haunted me eversince.



"Pride will be your downfall if these words you do not heed. The forest is deep and the path is long, but narrow. Stray but a step, and you will find that the forest is not only deep, but wide. Many who go there find the adventures they seek, but for those who do not take heed of the warning,

the forest becomes a tomb."



How she knew of my almost nightly travels into the woods, and what temptation that particular night brought to me, I do not know, but truly she has the Gift. Her words of the present were unnerving, but not nearly so as her words of what might be:



"The path you must take will not be straight, nor will it be easy. Choose you the wrong direction and your travels will end in disaster. A great loss, you must be prepared to accept. Do not attempt to prevent the loss, or your life will be forfeit."



And that I could not share with Pene, for it would bring ill will to this trip of hers we now find ourselves in the midst of - it is bad luck to begin such a journey with the ominous words of a Seer, as it is. Quite clearly I recall my reply to Raven then and what she said to me afterwards:



"My life means nothing if I cannot give it for those I love. It matters not, then.....that I forfeit it....if my actions save one I love. That....I would gladly do....again and again."



"Forfeit your life if you must, but know this ... by doing so, you also forfeit the life of the One who can save them all. That One is yet to come. Forfeit your life, and you also forfeit Hers."



What else she said to me, this woman with the Gift, or the Curse, of Second Sight, I shall keep private, even from these pages. What she said of me alone, well...time only can be the Truthmaker there. But if her words do foreshadow future actions on my part....I can only pray to Gwyn Ap Nuad that I choose wisely indeed...guided by His Hand.



So, this night - the remainder of this night - will be spent in wakefulness, watching over the most precious thing on earth to me at the moment, her peaceful slumber my only mission, until dawn's light breaks and we face whatever will come on the morrow... together. I pray that we will both be strong enough to meet the demands life places upon us....both tomorrow and for the days to come.



So mote it be, if it be Thy will, Gwyn Ap Nuad. I pray for your strength and guidance at first light. And if it be your time to come for me, come swiftly, and let me bring honor to you with my death. In the name of the warriors who have gone before me, and whom one day I will join in the afterlife.

Hear my words and grant the wishes of my heart.



~~~ Sir Antonio Sabatier ~~~

Diplomatic Liason to the Duchess of Ashford

The Marquis of Pantera, a.k.a., The Black Panther



"What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within." ~~ Emerson



THE WRITINGS OF A PALADIN -- Consequences #8





I killed a man today.

It was an accident. Still, the outcome, for the man, at least, is the same.

He is dead and I am the cause.

That I am the cause is of no great consequence. There are only my feelings to be dealt with, and I will. I have, after all, killed many a man, on purpose, under the guise of war. Justified? Perhaps. Kill or be killed? Most certainly. But I never put faces, never allowed myself to think of those men in terms of what they were - men....real flesh and blood men...with families....with hopes and dreams....promises to keep....none to realized - because of my hand. That was war and they were the enemy. Faceless. Emotionless. Collective grief felt but not in individualistic terms.

This man today....his life is over because of my actions.

I can deal with those - my actions. I must, for I go on. I survive.

He does not.

What does that mean, not to me, but to him?

Does anyone ever really consider that? His life is over now.

Gone are the days he will spend walking in gentle sunshine in the company of his family, perhaps his wife, his children.

Gone are the days he will spend working for his wages, possibly as a tradesman, seeking to pass along to his son the legacy of his honest work. He can never do that now.

Gone are the days he might have known as a grandfather, the joys of seeing his children grow to adulthood and present him with grandsons and granddaughters for him to spoil.

Gone are the nights he will spend in the company of his friends, partaking in an ale or two, a tall tale or two, and a frivolous pat on the rump to some cheerful barmaid.

Gone are the nights that he will spend at the suppertable, eating a meal prepared by the hands of his wife, and then later, take her to bed, each sharing in the marital ritual.

Gone is everything for him that he valued in this world.

Gone is the essence of what he was....his sorrow, his joy, his fear, his anger....his love.

Gone for him is everything.

And I am the reason.





~~~ Sir Antonio Sabatier ~~~

Diplomatic Liason to the Duchess of Ashford

The Marquis of Pantera, a.k.a., The Black Panther



"What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within." ~~ Emerson