The Knight And The Crazy Old Man – Part8

Greetings, my dear fans.

As of today, anything that is written between parenthesis(…) will be my notes, either to myself, or to notify the reader of any contradiction and whatnot.

If you haven’t, read the previous parts: Part1Part2Part3Part4Part5, Part6, and Part7

Now, let’s get down and dirty:


Sir Trist was too old, too seasoned, to show any sign of shock, anger, or confusion when he heard what the dwarf had said. He replied “Our King is alive and well. Take your army back where they crawled from, dwarf. Or suffer another defeat.” This, enraged the dwarf. He picked up his axe and screamed “Draw your sword, human! I, Borghon, Commander of Darin’s army, challenge you to duel. Let us see if you can defeat me now!” The entire dwarven army shouted and kicked the ground. The sound of their uproar echoed inside the walls of Dartom, melting away the confidence of many inexperienced soldiers.

The White Knight knew exactly the effect that was dealt to his men’s morale, and had to remedy that immediately. He drew his long sword and aimed it’s tip at the Borghon’s throat “Are sure you want to be humiliated in front of your entire army, dwarf? Fine.” Then he raised his voice, aiming for his men more than the dwarf “I, Sir Trist, The White Knight, accept your challenge” Now all he had to do was kill Borghon, and his men would regain their confidence.

The dwarves had long ceased their cries. The humans, shared in the silence. Sir Boygle spoke to the grey knights around him “Keep your eyes open, don’t think about blinking. This is nothing like the daily practices. Witness what it means to be a White Knight”

Borghon was the first to charge. His bull thirsted for blood, as if it desired to fight more than its master. Sir Trist, to the shock and dismay of some rookies, dismounted from his white horse. He took a few steps ahead, held his sword in one hand, and waited for the bull. When it was about to reach him, the White Knight bolted toward the crazed beast. His sword pierced the bull’s skull, stopping the huge animal and killing it instantly. Borghon, was thrown forward by the sudden impact, and landed on his face behind Sir Trist.

The entire fortress roared. The young warriors were astonished by the amazing power and courage that the White Knight had demonstrated. None of them has seen a White Knight fight before. They felt fearless now, they can defeat the dwarves.

Borghon got up to his feet, and turned to face the old knight. The dwarven warlord was angry to the point of insanity. He screamed like a mad dwarf, and rushed at the knight. They clashed, sword to axe, but Sir Trist was still holding his sword in one hand. He was only blocking the attacks of the enraged dwarf. The young warriors at the fortress immediately recognized their leaders form, it was the same when he was training with the knights every day, which meant he was now playing with the dwarf. They cheered on the White Knight, urging him to finish the pathetic dwarf.

Sir Trist kept blocking and dodging the powerful strikes of his opponent. Then, with one strike, he sent Borghon’s axe flying toward the invading army, and held his sword at the dwarf’s throat.

The Shrinkten’s went mad over the triumph of their leader. They roared, and banged their swords against their shields. Their confidence was at its highest now, the leader of the dwarves has fallen.

Sir Trist smiled at the angry dwarf “You know the rules of battle. Take your army and leave” then he pressed the tip of his sword against the skin of Borghon’s throat “Now.” The dwarf wasn’t intimidated. He looked at his army and shouted “Atta-” His voice was buried under the thundering scream of King Shallow. Sir Trist, Borghon, and both armies turned to the south. And they saw the Giant King, rushing towards them.

Hylven and Rother were desperately chasing the King. They both noticed the dwarven army at once. “What are those bastards doing here?” said Hylven. “This is bad, really bad” said Rother.

Sir Trist was not fazed by the King’s unexpected appearance. His sword was still on Borghon’s throat, “You will now experience the horror that your ancestors had gone through. The stench of your blood will plague these lands for years to come.”

Borghon frowned in anger as he saw the giant king storming from the south. (I just said before that the dwarven army surrounded the castle, but now, apparently, they have no troops in the southern side of Dartom) When he got close enough, sir Trist was surprised by the blood on the King’s clothes. Was there another army of dwarves in Red Hill? He wondered. He also noticed that the King wasn’t wearing his white armor.

The White Knight forgot about all these questions, when the King rammed Dartom’s southern gate open. From where Trist was standing, he could only hear the sound of the great gate hit the ground. Then he heard the soldiers’ screams. This, made the great knight lose his cool. He, for a second, forgot about Borghon, who didn’t miss the chance. The dwarf pushed the sword to the side with his iron-covered arm, and slammed into the knight, trying to bring him down. Trist regained his balance fast, and turned around himself, throwing Borghon on his face in the process. He didn’t have time for the short warrior now. So he mounted his horse, and rushed to the fortress.

Hylven and Rother were at the southern gate the same time that Trist reached there. Hylven immediately reported “My lord! Something is wrong with the King. He killed Sir Falcus and all the-“

He had to stop talking. What was going on inside the fortress was beyond belief.

To be continued…




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