Sir Dalton and the Shadow Heart (10 page)

A PLACE OF BEGINNINGS

When Dalton awoke, it was morning. He heard Mister Sejus working at his bench across the cave, still humming his silly song. He lay still, thinking about their conversation the day before. He had never been so angered and enlightened by a single conversation.

Other than being famished, Dalton felt much better than he had since coming to this place. Even his left arm felt nearly whole again. He brought his right leg over the edge of the cot and set his foot on the floor. He leaned carefully on his right elbow and slowly pushed to a sitting position. At first he felt lightheaded and nearly had to lie down again, but that feeling slowly dissipated. He put his hand to his bandaged mid-section and was amazed to find it only slightly tender.

Mister Sejus turned on his tall stool and looked at Dalton. “Feeling well enough to sit now?” He smiled and crossed over to Dalton. “Well, there’s progress. Soon you’ll be walking about, and I will have my home back.”

Dalton managed a weak smile. “I want to apologize for my anger yesterday. I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

As Mister Sejus walked toward him, Dalton noticed that he seemed less encumbered in his walk this morning.
Perhaps his joints are affected by the weather.
Dalton had heard other old people say that. Mister Sejus sat down on the stool next to the cot.

“I’m not sure how you knew, but you were right.” Dalton put his hand to his head. “But how do I get a heart for something I already want?”

“Now you are asking the right questions, young knight.” Mister Sejus smiled and stood. “But first it is time for you to eat.”

He supported Dalton and helped him stand, then guided him to the table.

Mister Sejus fed Dalton a sumptuous breakfast of eggs, sweet corn muffins, stewed pork, and fresh fruit. He encouraged him to drink much water as he ate. Dalton finally wiped his mouth, feeling energized by the meal.

“Come, Dalton,” Mister Sejus stood at the cave entrance.

Dalton stood carefully, with a hand across his stomach, and joined the old man at the entrance of the cave. Dalton squinted at the brightness of the day, for the sky was full of blue and sun.

The hermit’s cave was elevated enough to offer a spectacular view for a great expanse in all directions. Off to the right, a majestic mountain range stretched far into the distance. In front of them, the land dropped away to forest and then gave way to a lush green plain, with a river that wound its way out of view. The terrain to the left was more rugged but just as enchanting.

“What do you see?” Mister Sejus asked as he gazed into the distance.

Dalton was now leery of answering the man’s questions too quickly. When he hesitated, the old man looked at him with inquisitive eyes.

“An accident or a plan?” Mister Sejus continued.

“You are a strange fellow, Mister Sejus. Where do you come from?”

The old man smiled again and seemed a little disappointed. But he answered the question. “Nowhere…and everywhere. My business of
collecting takes me to many places in the kingdom.” He turned again to look at the morning scenery.

Dalton gazed at the man, amazed. At first he had thought him a crazy hermit, then a meddling old man, but now…

“How are you feeling?” Mister Sejus said without looking at him.

Dalton put his hand to his stomach again. “Quite well, actually.” He was surprised to realize how true that was. “I think I should be on my way within a day or two.”

Mister Sejus just nodded. “Very well. In the meantime, you can earn your keep by helping me.”

He brought Dalton to his bench and set a stool next to him. Dalton sat down as the old man went to his huge pile of rusted trinkets. He scrounged around a bit and finally pulled something from beneath the pile.

“Ah, here it is. I knew it was in there somewhere.”

Mister Sejus held a crusty old sword that looked like it had been weathered in the elements for a hundred years. He placed it on the table before Dalton.

“You must polish this for me. If you do a fair job, perhaps it will help me recover my costs for treating you.”

Dalton looked at the sword with dismay. The double-edged blade was dull, with streaks of rust down its length. The handle and guard were so dirty and tarnished that Dalton could not make out the markings. Cleaning the weapon looked like a hopeless task. But he knew he was indebted to the old man, so he determined to do his best.

The hermit taught Dalton how to work the polishing tools, and he settled into the task, starting with the blade. When he tired, he rested on the cot for a bit before returning to the chore, pushing himself to concentrate on his seemingly impossible assignment. He was glad, though, when Mister Sejus called him to the table and afterward suggested an early night.

Over the next few days, Dalton’s strength returned. As they worked
at the bench together, Mister Sejus found many opportunities to ask more probing questions which Dalton found uncomfortable to answer. There was something about the man that drew Dalton to him, and yet he wanted to be done with the nagging questions about purpose, vision, and knighthood. He had never worked so hard to answer questions before. In fact, all of Sir Dornan’s training seemed simple and trivial compared to this.

Dalton wasn’t much more thrilled about his task of cleaning the sword. The work was tedious, and the old hermit would take nothing but perfection.

“You must polish in the direction of the grain of the steel,” he said to Dalton during one of his inspections. “The blade was forged and folded in that fashion and must be worked according to the designs of its swordsmith.”

At the end of the fourth day, Dalton had completed only one side of the blade, but his feelings about the work were beginning to change. He was amazed at the beauty that was slowly being revealed by his labor and by the guidance of Mister Sejus. Part of him almost wished he would be there to finish the task, but he was feeling much better and anxious to be on his way.

The next morning, he stood just inside the cave with the knapsack full of provisions Mister Sejus had given him. “I want to thank you for all you have done,” he said to his elderly host, “perhaps even risking your life to save me. I’m sorry I didn’t finish the sword for you, but it is time for me to be on my way back home. My family will be worried.”

Mister Sejus nodded and held Dalton’s gaze for some time…until Dalton turned to look out the entrance.

“Your family…and your Lady Brynn.” Mister Sejus stated, as if he knew Dalton’s thoughts.

“Yes, but I still don’t know where I am and which direction to travel.”

“That is a truth for certain,” Mister Sejus said. “Are you sure you’re ready to leave?”

Dalton looked back at the hermit, a bit exasperated. “I am ready.”

Mister Sejus slowly nodded. “I see. And what of Lord Drox? Are you ready for him?”

Dalton hadn’t thought of that evil warrior for many days. Once again, this old hermit had slapped him in the face with the simple truth of the obvious. Dalton felt a rush of fear rise up in him. Drox was surely nearby.

“If you leave now, he will find you and imprison you or kill you.”

The old man spoke the words so poignantly that Dalton stumbled in his heart.

“Why do you think he sought you out and pierced you through?” Mister Sejus added.

Dalton was quiet. “Because I lack,” Dalton said softly. “When I was first taken prisoner by Drox, a friend and fellow knight searched for me.” He thought back to that stormy night. “This mighty warrior hid from my friend as though he were afraid of him.”

“What was different between you and your friend?” Mister Sejus asked.

Dalton looked away, into the kingdom. “Koen rides as a knight with authority…as though he
knows
it is all true.”

“Ah…he
knows
it is true.”

Dalton turned to look at the hermit again. “Is it that simple?”

“The only way to have a complete heart for the Prince is to
know
it is true. A man who doesn’t is like a wave of the sea being tossed by the wind. Eventually, Drox will find that man and imprison him…or pierce him through.”

“So what do I do?” Dalton voiced the question but not necessarily directed toward the old man. He didn’t expect him to be able to give him an answer.

Mister Sejus looked warmly at Dalton. “Travel with me today young knight, and I will show you the answer to one of your questions.”

“One
of my questions?” Dalton asked.

“Yes…one of many that keep you from having the heart of a Knight of the Prince. You must face all of them, Dalton. The King and His Son are not afraid of questions.”

Mister Sejus went into the cave and retrieved his own pack, already prepared. He lifted it to his shoulder.

“I thought you wanted to be rid of me,” Dalton said with a smile.

“Yes, well, I’m afraid you’re just not ready, and I must be patient. What’s an old man to do?”

At first, Dalton wondered if the pace of the hermit would be too slow for him to bear, but he quickly discovered this was not the case. It was Dalton who struggled to keep pace with Mister Sejus. Dalton himself needed frequent rests, for his strength was still greatly diminished. They traveled east along the base of the mountain range for most of the morning.

“Now I recognize these mountains,” Dalton said with satisfaction. “These are the Northern Mountains. I was so close to them that I could not see them for what they are.”

“’Tis often true in life, young one,” the old hermit said without skipping a step.

At one point, they climbed a ridge. Mister Sejus stopped for a moment, and Dalton was grateful. The old man seemed tireless. They looked south to a thick forest.

“This is Wolf Ridge,” Mister Sejus said and pointed to an area not far away. “There was a great battle there long ago.”

“Here in the Northern Mountains?” Dalton asked between ragged breaths. “I’ve not heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t have, but the kingdom hung in the balance. The people are often unaware,” Mister Sejus said. “There are many who don’t even believe there is a King.”

“Yes, I know,” Dalton said. “Those are the ones most difficult to tell about the Prince.”

Mister Sejus shook his head. “Without a King, there is no kingdom. The King established Arrethtrae long ago. Those who live here and deny His existence live a life of contradiction, for the kingdom itself testifies to His reign.”

By early afternoon, they came to an area that seemed forgotten by time itself. It was a scene of ancient beauty, and Mister Sejus slowed to enjoy it. A sparkling river flowed nearby, tumbling gently over shallow waterfalls. Mister Sejus told Dalton it was the Tisgri. The trees seemed larger than usual and widely spaced, and the ground between them was padded with thick grass and soft mats of forest moss. Green vines and brightly colored flowers provided a garden atmosphere, and a delightful canopy of leaves and pine branches filtered the sunlight into golden spires. Dalton looked around in awe at the magnificence of it all.

They walked quietly through the trees until they came to the ruins of a forgotten estate. The outer walls had crumbled, and the rusted iron gates had fallen from their hinges. They walked through the gate and stood in the outer court of what once must have been a majestic palace.

“What is this place?” Dalton asked in wonderment.

Mister Sejus breathed deeply. “This is the place of beginnings… This is Nedehaven.”

They stood before the blackened ruins of a great and ancient palace. The trees and vines had nearly swallowed the structure, and it looked as though it was trying to return to nature, but its residual magnificence was unmistakable.

“I thought this story was just a fabricated legend,” Dalton said, still gawking at the ruins. “I never would have believed such a place existed.”

Mister Sejus turned to Dalton. “That is why we are here.”

Dalton looked at the old man, who seemed to have become stronger by their day’s hike rather than weaker. The young knight followed him up the overgrown stairway to the veranda of the great hall. Dalton brushed the dirt away from a broken piece of marble that had
fallen from its place above the entrance. He traced his finger in the engraving: Nedehaven.