Adhemar's POV ***

If a pin had dropped that minute, it would have been possible to hear the clinking sound it’d make when it touched the ground. Even if the ground was wet black mud mixed with dried and freshly uprooted weeds.

The men stood like stone figures, their eyes on the walled city before them. Blood dried on their faces, sweat oozing through the minute pores of their facial skin. That evening the sun was behind them, curtained behind bellowing gray clouds.

The men’s hearts beat in heavy thumps beneath the armor they wore. The sword in the their hands were latched tight with rags; they have heard, and now they know, that when the war begins a man holds on to the sword, and later on, the blood comes between the hilt and the palm. Sometimes it’s not the blood that makes the sword drop, sometimes it is the fear that makes the blade clatter to the ground. An error punished immediately by the enemy.

“Today,” Count Adhemar began in a loud voice to his men – men of the Free Company. He was seated on a black horse and stood before the army as he addressed them. “We take down the last of the Forhemians forts. This is their last defence; we take down this fort and they become a bloody speck in the black pages of war chronicles. They have hidden their sons and daughters behind these walls. Their families and lineages are behind these walls. And today, we will bring an end to their miserable existence.”

He turned his horse to face the enemy. He could see the men on the walls holding spears and bows and arrows locked on targets below, at him and his men.

It was the last defensive stance of the Forhemians. Once it was taken, it would mark the end of things for them.

Suddenly, a man the size of three emerged on the wall. He had a diadem with peaks all around on his small, hairy head.

“Count Adhemar of Messers!!!” he boomed, “You have hunted us for two years like the savage beast in clothes that you are!!! Your men have died and boys fight in their place! Will you not turn around?! Take what land you have conquered and let us live in peace!”

Count Adhemar scoffed. “Heroz, King of vanquished Forhemians. You are a ridiculous man,” he said, “Did you really think that I would give up now that I am here? If we have come this far do not assume we will stop now. It is not in our plan to do so.”

“I have a proposal for you,” King Heroz shouted from the wall. “We will open the gates to you and your men but on one condition; that you spare my people. Take us prisoners, and do what you want, but spare my people. You have killed our young men, and all that we have left are boys and grandfathers. Show mercy, will you? Count Adhemar!”

Count Adhemar scowled darkly. The horse he sat on snorted and hoofed and whipped its tail about behind him. The count patted the beast on the side.

“Even you can smell the blood, can you not?” he whispered to the animal’s ear. “Do not say I killed your young men when all of my men have now become Boys as you claim. Now, hear this, king Heroz. Normally, I would do to you what I do to my enemies; lure you out of those walls with the promise of respite and mercy, and then strike you after with the worst blow I can muster."

“But hear me King Heroz, today I would rather see you agonize and squirm at your demise. My name is Count Adhemar, and I know not what mercy means. That word is a weakness I do not pray to possess. I and my boys will fight you. And we will kill you without the mercy you pray for. We will save your women the sorrow of living without their husbands and sons by uniting you with them with the edge of our blades.”

“My lord,” someone said behind the count.

He turned his horse around. “Sir Astor.”

“They are women and children,” said Sir Astor. His young smooth face had been aged incredibly by the war he fought, by the blood he shed. “We can kill the men and let the women and children live.”

“No, we cannot, Sir Astor,” said Count Adhemar. “Listen to me. The young children of now will grow up one day and ask how it is they have no father again. They will be restless and never settle down as our people. And one day, these women will tell them stories. Have you not learned from the Pharaoh who let Moses live in his palace?”

He spat on the floor.

“You think of mercy? If it was us behind those walls, they would never show us mercy.”

“And Christ did show us mercy,” said Sir Astor.

“And Christ was killed and crucified by those he did show mercy to,” said Count Adhemar, vehemently. “If you show them mercy you will die, and since you are not Christ, you will perish eternally. Do you see how reluctant you are to use the sword because you think of mercy? That is what it does to you; it weakens your heart.”

He rode close to the knight and bent over his horse. “Sir Astor, do you still want to show them mercy?”

Sir Astor swallowed and closed his eyes. When they opened some five seconds later, they were dead to mercy. Cold as the steel of the blade he wielded, harsh as the rock that strikes a man’s foot on the way.

“No mercy, my count,” said the knight.

“Good,” said Count Adhemar, sitting back on his horse. “Now prepare to lead the frontline; we are wiping these set of people from the face of the earth today. This is war, Sir Astor, not a charade or child’s play. Prepare to attack!” Count Adhemar called to his men.

The war drums behind began to beat; loud, firm, and purposeful beats to inspire mad courage in the army, and crippling fear in the enemy.

“Charge!”

Author’s thoughts: Hey everyone, I hope you’ve been enjoying “A knight’s tale.” I really want to hear what you guys think, please leave a comment or even better a review. Thank you I really appreciate it.