Tag: Knights of Service

A Question of Justice

Glad you could join us for the next philosophical episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

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Photo credit: Brisbaneinsects.com

They fairly ran through the Bowls of Death meadow, but even if they had flown through it, Elliot couldn’t have shut out visions of the terror Cassandra endured there at the rebel Spike’s bidding. So why did his thoughts take an unbidden fork in the road?

My love is alive today because Arturo killed Spike. I believe with all my heart that he deserved to die — but was it justice?

Might it have been better to incarcerate him for the rest of his life? Maybe they could have put him to work repairing all the damage he’d done. Maybe it would have brought the families whose lives he’d ruined a sense of satisfaction to see him serving their needs.

Entering the Freelands, Elliot witnessed rebuilding everywhere he looked.

It wouldn’t have undone the deaths he caused, but is it really better that he isn’t here to help set things right? Families mourn, and then they have to repair Spike’s devastation.

What might Cassandra think?

But right now, he needed to speak with someone else.

To be continued. . .

Previously, on Elliot’s Adventures ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Next time . . .

I Accuse

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Photo credit: Stephen Dalton

Let ’em hear me, Barry thought, bounding through the bushes. I need ta git ta da Prince before dat double dealin’ ol’ bat can carry out her diabolical plan — whatever it is.

He scarcely avoided colliding with the guard who stood ready to fight when he broke through the undergrowth, skidding to a stop on the trail.

“Barry!” Clifton greeted him, “You’re alive!”

“Where’s Prince Elliot? I hafta tell ’im somethin’.”

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Air Lifted

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Photo credit: A. Bockoven

Barry followed the bat to the edge of the forest. He had heard of the Arids beyond, but he’d never seen them, so he could only guess that’s what lay before him. Treeless and rocky, it looked inhospitable even in the dark, yet that’s where she landed.

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Not So Private Audience

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Photo credit: Arnoud Quanjer

“Lady Lucy,” the Prince corrected the young Knight, “is not our immediate concern. Right now, we wait quietly for Clifton to return.”

“Or end up as somebody’s midnight snack,” Barry muttered.

Ahead, a hushed Knight announced, “Someone’s coming, Sir.”

Clifton touched down in front of Elliot. “It’s one of the Stingers. Says his name is Julius and he knew we were coming. He wants to talk with you, but he wants you to leave the Knights behind.”

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Keeping the Peace

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Photo credit: Michael Marlow

The further the travelers trekked on, the closer the night and the silence drew in around them. Their near-tragic meeting with Lady Lucy had heightened Elliot’s sense of responsibility for their safety. Playing the scene over and over in his mind, he looked for a lesson he could take from it to help them stay alive.

We each have our strengths, he thought, and we need to honor them in each other. We can’t let our egos and disdain for someone else’s weakness cause dissension. If it hadn’t been for Clifton, Barry would be dead. Yet there’s something between them that doesn’t seem to be gratitude.

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Lady Lucy

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Photo credit: M. Brock Fenton

Panic tightening his throat, Clifton screamed, “Stand down! Stand down, soldier!”

A tick of indecision seized the fearsome jaws. The furry head whipped toward the brash young bee.

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Willing to Die

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Photo credit: zootours.ca

Beneath the unexpected flapping, Clifton bemoaned his deficient night vision as he  searched the obscurity overhead for any movement greater than the fluttering leaves. Only moments earlier, they had been so thankful for the moon-eclipsing clouds, and now he just wished for some light. A cringing fear crawled up his back as he recognized the strangely solitary sound.

“Barry,” he hissed, “get down from there!”

“I’m tryin’ ta see what it is!”

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Oliva

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Photo credit: Paul Curtis

Clifton wished he were flying. “They’re right,” he reminded himself, “my buzzing would attract attention in the middle of the night, but this walking — crawling — through the woods in the dark… it’s nerve-wracking!”

Tripping yet again over yet another a random leaf or twig or pebble he couldn’t see in the shadowy mottle they called a trail, he fell sideways over a lichen-covered rock.

A harsh whisper emerged from its surface. “Oy! Watch i’ theah, mate!”

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Randall

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Photo credit: runwildtv.com

King Arnie sent one third of the Knights he’d brought to Fen to go with Prince Elliot to the Freelands. He ordered another third to keep Princess Cassandra safe in Fen. With his small remaining contingent, his Greatness swept unnoticed through Bog. He didn’t stop till they reached the jail.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked the prisoner who’d freed the Crone.

“Of course I do, your Greatness,” the jittery fellow twittered, bowing his head. “I was born and raised in the Cranberry Bog, same as you.”

“Really? No one here knows you.”

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Sneak Attack

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Photo credit: Paul Lewis

“An attack? Was anyone hurt?” Princess Cassandra inquired. “Where did this happen?”

“At the edge of the meadow,” Vernon’s forehead furrowed. “If you would, please, bring your medicines; one of the Queen’s Guard was severely wounded.”

“What about the attacker?” Prince Elliot asked as they rushed to the field.

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