Chapter 21 - Sir Marron

"You mean, it gave chase even after the lightning destroyed the bridge behind you?" Abner leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs, eyes wide as a wonder filled child. Giles took one more spoon full of the stew before placing the empty bowl between his crossed legs. Wiping his mouth, he looked away and shrugged his shoulders. A familiar feeling came over him when he observed the situation he now found himself in.

"As far as I can tell. Things get more than a little hazy beyond that. I suppose the fever is to blame for that."

He had carefully planned this moment. For the hours that he had been left alone, he practiced. Pacing, inflection, word choice. All of it had to be perfect. This time, there could be no mistakes as there had been back in the tavern. This time, he had to not only sell the story, but also himself.

When the Magi had come back through the cell door, Giles finally got the chance to view him clearly in the torchlight that he brought with him. His brown hair fashioned in a ponytail pulled together at the top of his long head gave him a comical look. It reminded Giles of a tuft of grass that had sprouted out of his scalp. However, it did serve the purpose of clearing any obscurity from his face.

Indeed, he had been right, when he had noted the strange look about the man. A thin frame, perhaps more than a bit pale, even for Northguard. And his clothes did seem stranger in design than those he saw being worn in the courtyard below. He also observed the slow, weary pace at which he moved. Surely any or all of these things might have made the man someone to remember. No, none of these felt right to give as the reason to the strange sorrow growing in Giles' gut from looking at him. And it did not reveal itself to him until he began telling the story.

When Abner first crossed the room, Giles felt more than a bit unsettled. No bars set between the two men, and the gap in strength between the two would have been laughable. However, Giles just chalked it up to the fact of him being a Magi. If he could make things that were not there appear from just a word, what else could he do?

"Here, these are for you." The Magi leaned down and placed two objects before him. The first being a hefty bowl of stew that sent its greasy waft up to his starving nose. Giles pounced upon the chunky dinner, scooping spoonful after spoonful into his mouth before his tongue detected its heat. Abner nearly doubled over with laughter from watching Giles vomit the contents back into the bowl and hang jaw wide to let the cold air aid in stopping his pain. "Careful, my friend. While I may be fond of you, others in the castle do not share my views. Namely, the cook. He never got the taste for feeding prisoners the best of his abilities."

Giles looked up at the Magi and, with notable defiance, scooped the spoon full once more before shoving it into his aching mouth. He refused to break eye contact while he chewed the contents, even when tears began blurring his vision. He swallowed, with notable difficulty, and sat tall.

"Do give the cook my compliments. Inform him that I apologize for my current position in life. I assure you both, it was not my intention to be anyone's prisoner." The words came out elegant, and as honestly as Giles could manage. He had not been used to talking in such a way, but made definite note of the subtle approving nod Abner unknowingly revealed.

He took another bite, smaller than the last, and looked over at the other gift he had been presented with. A small book, bound in a green dyed leather. In silver ink, the title across it read, "The Great Sir Marron" and below an image of a knight on horseback fighting some sort of large monster.

Giles knew of this book. Indeed, he knew of many books like this, though he struggled to remember their grouped title. The one thousand scrolls, or something along those lines. A collection of tales, written for children to read after learning their letters. He remembered his father instructing him to spend two hours a day reading such books as a little boy. A task he found nearly as ridiculous as the contents within the pages. Tall tales for small boys. But why on earth had the Magi given it to him?

"Have you read this one?" Giles lifted his head upon hearing the words, eyebrows raised high. Abner looked at him, genuine interest spread across his face. "If you have, I can go bring a different one. I brought a few of them with me."

"To my cell?"

"Ha! No, to Mountcrane. I always bring reading materials with me whenever I travel."

"Ah, I see." Giles nodded and thumbed through the pages before turning back to his stew. "As a matter of fact, I have read this one. When I was a boy." Abner scooted his wooden chair closer.

"Yes, but you see, they read differently as an adult. This one I have read a dozen times, and each time I get a little something new out of it." He picked up the book and began glancing through its text, a wondrous smiling creeping across his lips. A concerned look appeared on Giles' face as he looked at the man, spellbound by a children's book. But, he hid the look away once Abner's eyes came back to him.

"A dozen times, you say?" He took another spoonful. Abner nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yes. It is one of my personal favorites. So many lessons I have learned from Sir Marron. Truly a great man."

"You met him?" Giles expected a hearty laugh to be shared between the man at his obvious jest. Abner only looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"Hmm? Oh, goodness no." He chuckled at the thought. "I am sure he passed on many years before either of us were born. But from the writings of his great deeds, this is how I have learned from him."

Giles struggled to hide the expression of concern fighting to spring forth on his face. The man before him, a Magi, talked about the book of Sir Marron as if it were a text of history. As if the man himself had lived.

"What exactly do you feel you learned from him, on your last reading?"

"I am so glad you asked." Abner scooted even closer. "I have learned that, even though one might be fighting on the side of righteousness, one must always understand that such a thing does not always mean one will come out victorious. As we see in the final chapter." He opened to the final page and showed it to Giles. The last sentence recounts how Sir Marron fell along with the beast he battled with, the two of them intertwined in death. He looked between the page and the Magi. By the Behemoth, this man is not joking.

"An interesting takeaway. I suppose not all endings must be like this."

"You are thinking of yourself?" The words struck Giles like a rock.

"How do you mean?" He asked.

"You are still alive are you not? And after such a difficult time with the beast." Giles sat back, unsure of how to respond. "Oh come now. Do you think I would be so interested in you if I had assumed you to be some random prisoner? I knew your name without you telling me. Do you think I would not know more of your story?" Abner crossed his arms and looked down his nose, reveling in his confidence. Giles felt unmoved.

He had been keenly observing the Magi's behaviors the moment he came through the door. The words he chose, the manner in which he held himself. Not once had he made such a display of arrogance.

"You know of my findings at the farm?"

"Yes, my friend. I do."

"I see. And you also know of Elias?"

"Of course. I am a Magi. You might find yourself surprised at how much I know."

"You even heard about how I sold my spear as payment to cross the Bluehead?" It only lasted a split second, but Giles saw it. The slightest bit of pause crossed the man's face, and he blinked at the prisoner.

"Yes. Yes, even that, Giles." He spoke the words with a similar tone as all the others. Giles nodded to him.

"I see." This man knew only what someone else had told him. Somehow, he had caught wind of what Giles had been up to in the Southern region. Perhaps he had spies down there. Or perhaps he had indeed used some magic spell to see snippets of his mind while he slept. Or perhaps Giles' fevered mind had spoken about his journey in small portions, leaving out full details.

"However, Giles, I would prefer to hear it from you."

"Why?" Abner sat back in his chair, a confused look on his face. Even Giles felt shocked by the confidence in his own voice. He scrambled to recover. "I mean that, you seem to be a man of higher standing in this place. You know where I am from, and seem to know about my travels. Why would the higher men and women of Northguard have any interest in someone like myself?" Abner nodded in understanding, and waved away the apparent rudeness he had assumed in the prior question.

"Ah, yes. I see why you would be confused as to our meeting. I would too, had our positions been swapped. You see, Giles my friend, while I might be a man of higher standing, as you so kindly put it, I am also fully loyal to the kings and queen of this region." He held out a hand apologetically. "Please understand, I hold no ill will against you. However, you must understand, in times like this, when a strange man from the south comes riding on a stolen war horse, half dead…" He trailed off for a moment before collecting his thoughts. "My friend, these are the times when anyone fleeing to the mountain pass, as you looked to have been,"

"But I wasn't fleeing here." Giles interjected. "I never meant to even go beyond the Warren territory."

"Yes, I know that."

"Then why? Tell me, please sir." The smile faded from Abner's face at the plea, and Giles noted once more the strange look about the Magi's face. What was it that made him look so off putting?

"Giles, my friend, I cannot give you this answer until," He looked up to the window behind the prisoner. "until you give me your entire story, start to finish. When you have done that, I promise on my word that I will tell you why my rulers have such an interest in you."

Giles, in that moment, glanced over at the book lying between them, and he knew that he could do it. So, sitting up straight, he told his story. The many hours of practice and rehearsal were put into use, and he made sure to gesture at pivotal points. Some moments he would freeze, holding out for a few moments to leave Abner in suspense before telling of an amazing twist to the tale. The Magi hung on every word from the moment the story began.

The sun sank in the west as Giles took his audience through each stage of his journey, starting from him walking down the road and finding the corpse of Abner's peer. He explained the strange findings of the dead farmer, and the understandable mistake of borrowing some of his clothes. Abner agreed, anyone would have done the same. When he mentioned the bridge, the Magi grew noticeably excited. Not with fear, as many would have, but rather with joy. He constantly asked for how Giles felt in these moments, clapping his hands together when the prisoner informed him of his calm calculating confidence.

"Of course you were. I knew it. Then what happened?" The story went on about how Giles had been arrested, and how he and Elias investigated the farm. There came a moment of pause when Giles spoke his name. Though he had only known the man for a short time, he felt something about his name weighing on him. A type of debt he owed the man, who, for all he knew, could be dead on the farm, forgotten by the world. The thought made the contents of his stomach sink.

He continued, telling the events of their encounter on the farm. He spoke very grandly of how brave the guard had been and how he placed Giles' own safety above his own. Abner nodded, a look of total understanding on his face. Giles made sure to add how he hoped Elias managed to escape before finishing the story with the crossing of the Bluehead.

"The remainder of how exactly I came to be here, all the way across country, is unknown to me as it is to you."

"No doubt through some other acts of cunning." Abner slapped both hands on his thighs, a smile spread from ear to ear. That was when Giles noticed it. When the smile came or went, the skin around it seemed to not move as fast as the muscle. He noted that any other facial expression around the man's face caused the same effect. It moved like a dead face being pulled about though it lacked any true mobility. What on earth was wrong with this man?

"I can only assume so. And the fact of a good horse." Giles thought for a moment. "Though I do seem to remember talking to a wolf somewhere in the woods near here." The two looked at each other before breaking out into laughter.

"Yes, well, I will put that one down to the fever." Abner stood and moved the chair back to the table at the far side of the room. "I must say, my friend, your story has given me all of the answers I need. There is only one thing left." He walked back over to Giles and squatted before him. "Why were you going to Windgrad?"

"My father." Giles smiled keenly, ready for the question. "He decided that I should go out from his tent and seek my own way. I felt, the best way to do that, would be to pledge myself to a king. I suppose it would not be too different to what you have done with your life." Abner shook his head.

"No, Giles, my friend. That is not the truth at all." He stood up, shaking his head still. Giles felt his heart leap into his throat.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think I was not watching you as closely as you were watching me?" Abner walked over to the table again and lifted the lantern from it. "You do an interesting thing with your mouth when you tell a lie. The left corner turns up just a bit. Interesting thing that." Giles put a hand to the corner of his mouth, testing the theory. Abner turned back to him, holding the lantern up high. "Giles, tell me, have you ever met the prince of Greyrock?" The prisoner leapt to his feet, letting all facades of confidence fall away.

"What do you want with me? Who are you?" His fists clenched at his sides shook with a readiness. Abner raised his free hand.

"Do not worry, Giles. I am not here to condemn you. In fact, out of the whole of Tovoran, I am the only one who would be willing to keep you alive right now. You truly have no idea just how lucky you really are."

"What are you going to do with me?" Giles' voice held a notable fear. Abner sighed and looked up to the window.

"I will go to the king and queen. I will tell them only what you have told me." He chuckled. "Only what you have told me." He looked at the prisoner with a knowing gaze. "Understand? After that I will ask them to give you over to me to be brought back to the west castle. We will leave tomorrow morning." Giles pondered the words, confused as to what the man was getting at. Then his eyes went wide and he started walking over to him.

"No, wait you can't." His hands went up, pleading with the Magi. "Please, you don't understand. I am not supposed to be here. I have to get back home. If I don't-" Abner put up his hand, halting Giles a few feet from him. He continued. "If I don't, something terrible is going to happen. Please, I need to get back to my people. I need to speak to the king of Windgrad." He put his hands together, and the corner of his mouth did not rise. Abner nodded, a hesitant sadness showing on his dead face.

"A deal made with dark promises tend to leave men in such a way." He looked to the window once more. "Giles, has no one told you what happened to your tribe?"

The prisoner felt his legs go numb.