He leaned forward to make his argument. “You are a master swordsman, disciplined by nobility. And surely you realize that there is nothing more noble than to save the life of another.”
Landor gazed down at the table. For one brief instant, the mighty man looked sad and afraid.
“Tell me, Landor, what do you fear so greatly down there”—Kendrick nodded toward the base of the mountain—“that you would die up here rather than face it?”
Landor snapped from his moment of reflection. He pushed to his feet with both hands on the table and leaned across it, his face red with defiant anger.
Kendrick wondered if their fight might resume at that instant. He kept his gaze steady. “I have felt the mastery of your sword. Even the Vincero Knights are no match for you. Why do you fear them?”
Landor’s face twisted into something between anger and pain. Clenching his fists as if fighting for control, he stalked away from the table, then turned back to face Kendrick.
“I do not fear the Vinceros,” he retorted with a bitter smile. Heopened the top portion of his leather doublet to reveal his chest. “I am one!”
Kendrick almost stopped breathing.
On Landor’s chest, over his heart, was the scarred brand of the same insignia Kendrick had seen on the medallion in Chessington.
A LIFE FOR A LIFE
Kendrick’s heart pounded as he stared at Landor. He had assumed this man was hiding from the Vincero Knights. That Landor might actually be one of Lucius’s evil henchmen had not occurred to him. Kendrick’s eyes opened wide as he frantically considered his options. Why had he ever disarmed himself in Landor’s presence?
Landor walked back to the table, and in his eyes Kendrick saw the same darkness that had shadowed Sir Casimir’s face. The emblem on his chest seemed to grow larger with his approach.
Kendrick stood quickly, his chair toppling behind him as his hand flew to his sword. He instinctively backed away two steps to allow for fighting room, but this time it was Landor who did not reach for his sword.
The men faced each other across the table again. Kendrick was quite at odds as to what to do until his thoughts turned once again to Duncan. Regardless of Landor’s identity, he might still be Kendrick’s best and only hope for his young friend. Besides, Kendrick realized, Landor had tried to kill him because he thought he was a Vincero Knight. Remembering that helped settle Kendrick’s anxiety.
Kendrick released his grip on his sword and let it stay at rest within the scabbard. He lifted his hand and took a deep breath.
“Although I do not yet know your story, Landor, it seems to me that we have mutual enemies.” Kendrick slowly approached the table, lifted the urn of water, and filled both chalices. He lifted one with each hand and offered one to Landor. “Mutual enemies can create the most unusual of allies … or even friends.” Kendrick softened his countenance and waited for Landor’s reply.
The man hesitated and then took the chalice from Kendrick. They both drank and sat at the table again. The tension eased, and Kendrick knew the threat of battle was gone—at least for a time.
“Many years ago,” Kendrick said quietly, “I lost a wife and a son to the deeds of evil men.” Remembering it, he felt himself sliding back once more into grief, his voice nearly breaking as he pleaded with Landor, “Please do not force me to lose a brother to the same!”
Kendrick’s gaze fell to the uneaten bread on the table and then back to Landor, whose countenance had changed. His visage of critical discernment had transformed to one of wonder. Kendrick thought perhaps his plea had uncovered a corner of the man’s heart where compassion had not yet been fully purged by Lucius.
At least
something
seemed to have moved his heart. The man avoided Kendrick’s eyes, staring out through the walls of his cabin and beyond to the isolation of the mountains. When he spoke, it was in a voice so low Kendrick
Landor gazed down at the table. For one brief instant, the mighty man looked sad and afraid.
“Tell me, Landor, what do you fear so greatly down there”—Kendrick nodded toward the base of the mountain—“that you would die up here rather than face it?”
Landor snapped from his moment of reflection. He pushed to his feet with both hands on the table and leaned across it, his face red with defiant anger.
Kendrick wondered if their fight might resume at that instant. He kept his gaze steady. “I have felt the mastery of your sword. Even the Vincero Knights are no match for you. Why do you fear them?”
Landor’s face twisted into something between anger and pain. Clenching his fists as if fighting for control, he stalked away from the table, then turned back to face Kendrick.
“I do not fear the Vinceros,” he retorted with a bitter smile. Heopened the top portion of his leather doublet to reveal his chest. “I am one!”
Kendrick almost stopped breathing.
On Landor’s chest, over his heart, was the scarred brand of the same insignia Kendrick had seen on the medallion in Chessington.
A LIFE FOR A LIFE
Kendrick’s heart pounded as he stared at Landor. He had assumed this man was hiding from the Vincero Knights. That Landor might actually be one of Lucius’s evil henchmen had not occurred to him. Kendrick’s eyes opened wide as he frantically considered his options. Why had he ever disarmed himself in Landor’s presence?
Landor walked back to the table, and in his eyes Kendrick saw the same darkness that had shadowed Sir Casimir’s face. The emblem on his chest seemed to grow larger with his approach.
Kendrick stood quickly, his chair toppling behind him as his hand flew to his sword. He instinctively backed away two steps to allow for fighting room, but this time it was Landor who did not reach for his sword.
The men faced each other across the table again. Kendrick was quite at odds as to what to do until his thoughts turned once again to Duncan. Regardless of Landor’s identity, he might still be Kendrick’s best and only hope for his young friend. Besides, Kendrick realized, Landor had tried to kill him because he thought he was a Vincero Knight. Remembering that helped settle Kendrick’s anxiety.
Kendrick released his grip on his sword and let it stay at rest within the scabbard. He lifted his hand and took a deep breath.
“Although I do not yet know your story, Landor, it seems to me that we have mutual enemies.” Kendrick slowly approached the table, lifted the urn of water, and filled both chalices. He lifted one with each hand and offered one to Landor. “Mutual enemies can create the most unusual of allies … or even friends.” Kendrick softened his countenance and waited for Landor’s reply.
The man hesitated and then took the chalice from Kendrick. They both drank and sat at the table again. The tension eased, and Kendrick knew the threat of battle was gone—at least for a time.
“Many years ago,” Kendrick said quietly, “I lost a wife and a son to the deeds of evil men.” Remembering it, he felt himself sliding back once more into grief, his voice nearly breaking as he pleaded with Landor, “Please do not force me to lose a brother to the same!”
Kendrick’s gaze fell to the uneaten bread on the table and then back to Landor, whose countenance had changed. His visage of critical discernment had transformed to one of wonder. Kendrick thought perhaps his plea had uncovered a corner of the man’s heart where compassion had not yet been fully purged by Lucius.
At least
something
seemed to have moved his heart. The man avoided Kendrick’s eyes, staring out through the walls of his cabin and beyond to the isolation of the mountains. When he spoke, it was in a voice so low Kendrick
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