FOREVER KNIGHTS: #16 To Keep Her

Paladines

SEBASTIAN

Elsabet was aware the large orange tomcat followed her home but thought little of it.

However, as she peered from the window of her rented mansion, she noted the cat down in the bailey. Leaning up on back paws to press its nose to that of a mount with a lowered muzzle, dipping to the cat’s level as though they shared some great secret.

She was startled when after that brief contact, the horse jerked its head up. Yanking violently against its leads until the strips of leather slid from around the post. And it was off. Crashing at a run down the dark road leading up to this row of mansions.

“What was that about?” She pondered it only briefly before shaking away the odd image and returning her focus to the book she read by the light of the candle.

Sebastian had been waiting for the cats. For any sign of Elsabet. So, he was a little surprised to hear thundering hooves crossing the drawbridge. And Dimitrius calling from the tower.

“One of your mounts has returned, Sire!”

“Which?” Bast jogged into the bailey as the big white gelding jogged up to him. At first he thought it was Sivikon but he saw the small imperfections that marked him.

“MoonWalk.”

The horse neighed and shook its mane wildly. Bast reached up to put a staying hand on the back of its neck. Calming it instantly. It lowered its head. Dropping low enough, to indicate he wanted Bast to mount it.

“Dimitrius!”

The horse was already prancing excited circles as it stayed in place long enough for Bast to relay his message.

“Send word to Alazareth he needs return to the castle to watch over it until my return.”

Dimitrius peered from the bridge tower to lower his dark-haired head in acknowledgment.

Bast was off on the giant white mount. It’s hooves and collar streaming long satiny hair behind as it carried the large tawny man.

The horse galloped freely. Bast giving him his lead. He took them through Grier at a headlong pace. Moving down the mountain, weaving through Warlock Wood and through the valley until so weary he could hardly move. Pace slowing, he jogged to meet a small strange spotted horse.

They paused nose to nose and the new horse watched Bast carefully. He approached slowly and caressed his hand along its lower jaw to fist its mane. It let him mount and he gave this one its leads as well. This horse diligently bore him across the long meadows, swinging wide of the towns and villages dotting the country. On the far edge of Grier, they came to another brown horse and Bast followed the same ritual. This one took set across the Northern bridge over the NetherRunnel to run straight into the Paladines.

The Paladines?

Taking Sebastian on a dangerously quick trek in the Dinian Mountains, rimming the edge of the Paladines. Once on the other side they approached an outlying country Manse.

“Lady Farthington’s?” He hesitantly dismounted. Weary from the journey but too excited to perhaps get a glimpse of his lover to not go in now.

But as he led the horse toward the stable, he was met by another one shining so vividly in the torchlight he froze.

The approaching stallion didn’t hesitate as it walked to him. Pressing the flat plane between its’ ears to Bast’s face.

“Clever thing!” Bast met the motion. “Sivikon, I’ve missed you Brother.” He glanced up at the well lit mansion. “I see you are right where you should be.”

Bast grinned at him. “Watching over her.” Bast stroked his cheeks. “You’ve done well.”

Farthington Hall, Paladines

The horse Sebastian had been riding dropped to its belly from exhaustion.

Sebastian ran fingers through its mane. “Thank you friend, rest.”

He turned back to Sivikon. “Stay with her, Brother. Look after her.”

As he stepped toward the mansion a tailored black dress coat folded over his ruffled tunic. A green vest slid over his shoulders and cinched around his wide chest. His dirtied breeches were replaced with black leather ones and high polished boots. He pushed his hair back with palms flat to the side of his head. Using a strip to wind behind his head in a tether to replace the one he’d lost somewhere along the way.

A bowler hat formed atop his head and he gripped the rolled tip, pulling it low over his face as he stepped into the light of the dual torches burning aside the drive.

Lady Farthington’s galas were something he studiously avoided since he had no interest in the renowned dalliances permitted there. And it often garnered him much unwanted attention.

Though I enjoy the company of women there are too many with lust running too hot. He shuddered at the thought. The last time some of the widows had yanked so hard on his clothes that they’d nearly torn flesh. Bloodhungry vipers.

He entered the room, set on not making eye contact with any of the lovely madams.

I’m here for one reason and one only. Her.