Mystic Knights Fan Fiction - Spirit of the Land
Spirit of the Land Chapter 1
Purple loosestrife. He was a mystic knight, not Cathabad's servant. And if anyone should be gathering anything for the druid, it was Rohan. After all, he was still Cathabad's apprentice, wasn't he? Being Draganta certainly didn't change that.
Ahead, he saw the village of Luthe. Good, he could stop and eat. Closer to the village, he realized that something was happening in the square.
Angus tapped a young boy on the shoulder.
"What's going on?"
"We're going to stone the witch."
"You're what?"
"This morning, she told Timmy that if he took the job at the O'Malley farm, he wouldn't come back ."
"And?"
"He didn't come back. He fell off the roof and onto a pitchfork."
"That hardly makes her a witch."
"She makes offerings to Mider, and tells people their futures and gives people potions and—"
"Where did you here that?"
He doubted any of it was true. The moment someone had called her a witch, others had immediately started making any accusations they could about her.
"Well…from people who saw her."
"There she is!" someone called.
Angus looked up to see a girl being thrown into the square. She was a year or two younger than he was, with a long blond braid that would reach past her waist when she stood. Her threadbare breeches and blue tunic were torn, and she was bleeding in several places. She was small, but she fought like a wildcat as she was dragged back to her feet by her hair.
"Here’s the witch!" The man holding her up shouted. "You know what to do!" With that, he threw her at the nearest person, who promptly threw her back into the square as people started pelting rocks at her and screaming.
Angus shoved his way through the crowd. As soon as he had enough room, he hit his mace against the ground as hard as he could, knocking half of the town’s population off its feet.
"What do you think you’re doing?" The leader shouted.
Angus moved so that he was blocking the girl from the majority of the crowd, reaching behind him and handing her his knife.
"Stopping you from making a mistake."
"If she was a witch, you’d all be toads by now."
"Hey, she’s getting away!"
Angus looked behind him, and saw the girl—with his knife stuck under her belt—running out of town. A white horse with a brown face was racing towards her, and as it passed her, she grabbed it’s mane and pulled herself onto its back. Quickly, the horse turned, and they were soon gone from sight.
He looked behind him at the angry villagers, then in the direction the girl had gone. He started out after her.
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How did Ivar make it look so easy? Tracking a racing horse on foot was no easy task, and Angus was almost ready to give up, even if she did still have his knife.
He spotted the horse grazing a few moments later, and saw the footsteps leading back into the trees, near the river. Well, that hadn’t been to hard.
"Hey, are you he—" The moment he reached the river, he quickly spun around and heard a loud splash behind him.
"What are you doing ?!?"
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine. Why are you here?"
"You took my knife."
"You gave it to me." He heard her timidly step out of the water.
"To free yourself, not to take with you."
Slowly, he lifted his shield, looking at the metal plate attached to the inside, seeing a flash of skin.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing!" He quickly dropped the shield back to his side. "Can I have my knife back now?"
"No."
"Can I turn around?"
There was silence for a moment, and then, "All right, you can turn around."
He turned around. She had put her tunic, boots, and belt on, had a wrist guard tied to her belt, and had thrown her breeches over her shoulder. And she had his knife trained on him.
"That's my knife."
"Not anymore."
"You don't need to do that."
"Don't I?"
"Didn't I just save your life?"
She shrugged.
"You could try saying thank you."
"Thank you."
"I'm Angus."
"Your parents named you after the god of love and beauty?"
"Well…yes."
"You're one of the mystic knights, aren't you? The thief?"
"Ah…yes."
"Get out of my way."
He reached for his knife. "Can I have that back now?"
She raised it to his chest.
"I guess not."
She started to move past him.
"Wait."
"What?"
He held out the pouch of purple loosestrife and gestured at her clean but still open wounds. "Purple loosestrife."
Slowly, she took it, then started towards her horse.
"Wait!" He called again.
"Now what?" She asked, once again mounting her horse, bareback.
"You didn't tell me your name."
She glanced at him, then towards the east, then in the direction they had come from. "Aisling." And, lightly squeezing the horse with her knees, she sent it heading east full speed.
Angus shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Interesting girl, though not one he was likely to tell the others about. And he still wanted his knife back.
Continued
