I was twenty-seven when all of this went down and I’d lived a lot in that time. I’d traveled to the Arctic Tundra with my father to see the snow elves perform a sending to the realm they call “The Everywhen.” I’d been to the Southwestern United States and seen the great underground kingdom of the Dwarves called “G’thalt.” I’d caught a ride on the backs of friendly dragons to Mississippi to finish college. I spent a lot of my life as a magical tourist.

  Even with all that under my belt, I wasn’t prepared for the joy of watching Terry Lingal grab Robert Lawless by the tabbard and slinging him over his head, through the closed door, and into the wall of the building across the god damned street.

  -Elton Beasley

  Elton stared after Terry as the Errant marched into the driving rain after Lawless. Delores ran out after him with no hesitation. Elton didn’t realize he was running after them until the rain hit him. He heard Sam yell something after him about caution, but he didn't care. He was a Troubadour. This was a story and he'd be damned if he missed what could be the greatest story he ever told. He ran into the street, close enough to see it all go down. Shaking his head the entire time trying to believe what he’d just seen. He saw someone, one of the red headed local boys, staring, then running and banging on doors. Elton smiled grimly. He had a feeling this was about to get good.

  Lawless shook his head to clear his vision. He looked up, the rain stinging his eyes. A dark form strode up and stood over him. In a sudden flash of lightning he saw the form of Terry Lingal. He saw the face of the Errant Apprentice.

  With a shout he jumped to his feet.

  “THIS IS MY TOWN, ERRANT! MINE! I OWN IT BODY AND SOUL!” He unsheathed his sword. The boy had no weapon or shield. “And no one here is leaving it, or me, again!!”

  He swung at the boy with a powerful over the head chop.

  He stared at Lingal. The boy had simply raised his forearm and blocked the blade with it. Lawless could imagine the pain that would cause. Hell, he’d felt that pain, having to do the same thing in a fight. He met the boy’s eyes. The kid grinned.

  “Good armor, huh?”

  With that, Terry Lingal punched him in the damned face. No palm this time. A full on punch. Lawless staggered backward with a broken nose. His boots slipped on the wet pavement and he fell on his back. His sword dropped from his hand and clattered on the sidewalk near the remains of a door knob.

  “You are a disgrace to everything we stand for, Lawless," he heard the Errant say.

  Before he had a chance to stand, the boy grabbed him by the tabbard near his neck and jerked him to his feet. He got right in Lawless's space.

  “We are knights. We-“

  Lawless spit right in his stupid, self-righteous face. Watching the boy’s face contort in rage he had the feeling that maybe he’d made a mistake. Possibly a whole series of them. The boy punched him in the stomach. He hit Lawless so hard he felt the pain even through his chain mail. The boy must have broken his hand. Lawless gasped, losing all his breath.

  The boy slammed his back against the wall as Lawless was still trying to catch his breath and get his mind to focus.

  “You. Are going. To listen. TO. ME!” the boy said, finishing with a yell. Lingal lifted Lawless off the ground and slammed him against the wall hard and held him up there. Rage filled his eyes along with something else. Something that made Lawless feel sick. Was that pity?! The boy began again while Lawless still couldn’t speak. He just kept gasping as blood ran from his nose.

  “We are knights." The Errant began. "We live in a world of darkness. All around us lights are going out. Because of people like YOU Robert. We are supposed to be the light that shows humanity the way out of that darkness. We are held to a higher standard than anyone who has ever come before us. We are the guideposts.”

  As Terry spoke, the anger was replaced by something stern. Something sad. Something that reached inside Lawless, found the child he had been, and spoke to it. Shame. Why did he feel shame? The boy continued.

  “We are supposed to be the best mankind has to offer so we can deal with evils with both strength and compassion. You, Robert Lawless, have betrayed your people, your God, and your vows.”

  The boy let go and Lawless dropped to his feet and slid to the ground. He sat down hard staring after the boy. The man. After the man. He felt something inside him crumble.

  The boy walked over and picked up Lawless’s sword.

  “If there were true justice in the world someone else with higher authority would be here to do this. But there isn't. I’m all there is.”

  Terry took Lawless’s blade and looked at him. He held the handle in one hand and the bare blade in the other. Lawless stared at him not believing. He couldn’t. Not just from an authority standpoint, but physically he couldn’t do what he was about to do. That blade was supposed to be unbreakable. Surely he. . .

  Terry Lingal calmly raised a leg and cleanly snapped the sword blade in half on it.

  Terry stared down at Lawless and felt sadness try to overwhelm him. They can’t all be like him, can they? He threw the two halves of the broken sword on the ground. He looked to the older man who stared at him. Was the man crying or was it the rain? Terry didn’t know. He hoped it was tears. That would mean remorse. But he doubted it.

  “Your vows are broken and your status as a Knight is forfeit by the codes of the Order of the Knights of St. George the Dragon Slayer. If I ever hear you’re calling yourself a knight again I will hunt you down and make you wish I’d truly finished this here.”

  He turned to walk away but he stopped and looked over his shoulder at the broken man.

  “And I promise you, there is nowhere you can hide that I will not find you if that happens.”

  As Terry turned, he noticed an older model motorcycle sitting in the opposite alley from Thunder. He walked toward it, still feeling rage coursing through his veins. With a grunt he dragged the bike out onto the sidewalk with one jerk, and looked at Lawless. The man had raised a hand as if to beg him to stop, but on seeing Terry’s face, the hand dropped.

  Terry looked at the graffiti again.

  LAWLESS IS RIGHT

  Before he knew what he was doing, Terry lifted the motorcycle and smashed it against the concrete wall and it’s damnedable writing. He lifted it and swung again. And again. And again. He kept on swinging until oil and fuel covered the scrawl and there wasn’t enough motorcycle left to make an effective club.

  He felt drained. He walked back over to look on the fallen former knight. The man was shaking.

  “GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!” he yelled.

  Lawless scrambled to his feet with blood pouring from his nose and ran, tripping, down an alley until he was hidden by the rain.

  “I’ll be watching for you.” Terry whispered to his vanishing form.

  A wave of exhaustion swept over him as he stood in the street staring down the alley. He’d only ever been this tired once before. After his first dragon. He’d been, what? Eleven? Twelve? Sean and George had been there. He smiled.

  He realized his mind was drifting. He needed to focus. He turned to look for Delores.

  A sudden cheer rose up around him and Terry jumped. Delores was there beaming at him. Elton stared at him from the middle of the street. But around them? It looked like most of the town of Hilochita had come out into the rain and was cheering. People were hugging and laughing. He heard someone say mayor and a kid went running down the street.

  “Delores?”

  “Yes, oh hero?”

  He smiled at her. “Can you fetch Thunder? We need to go.”

  Elton ran up to him.

  “You’re leaving?!” he shouted over the rain. “You just saved a town and there has to be a reward coming and you’re leaving?”

  Terry stared at him. He was entirely too tired for this. His hands hurt, his arms were sore, and he didn’t want to be in the middle of this. He sighed and looked at the ground.

  “That’s not why I do this. I don’t care about any of that, Elton.” He gestured at the crowd weakly.

  “They needed me. Now somewhere, someone else needs me. And after that, someone else will. And I’ll be there. I’ll always be there.” It sounded so bleak when he said it like that. But it was the truth. He'd always be there.

  A young man ran up to Terry from the crowd. Everyone else seemed beyond happy, but this boy was the only one who wasn’t keeping his distance. He was a red head and his hair was nothing short of impressive. Terry was sure Sean would know some cartoon or something to liken it to. Terry didn’t have the frame of reference.

  “Thank you, Mister.” The boy said. “What’s your name?”

  Terry smiled weakly.

  “Terry. Terry Lingal. What’s your’s?”

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  “Lance. I. . .” The boy seemed nervous. He spoke in a loud whisper above the rain, “I want to be a knight. Like you though. Not Lawless.”

  Terry’s smile gained some strength. He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  “You do that. You’ve already got the name for it.”

  Right then, Delores made her way up with Thunder. The little scooter was uncovered and the second most beautiful thing Terry had seen that day. He looked at Delores.

  “Thank you. I hate to ask, but can you drive?”

  She put a hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze and climbed in the driver’s seat. They both put their goggles on.

  Terry looked back to Lance.

  “Goodbye, Lance. Don’t suffer bullies willingly.”

  He looked to Elton.

  “Choose your knights better, Mr. Beasley.”

  Terry climbed on the scooter behind Delores, put his arms around her waist and they were off. He hadn’t known this girl long, barely a few hours, but she’d already proved herself to him in every way that mattered, he thought. She'd calmed him during all that when he needed it and made small suggestions that made all the difference.

  God, he was so, so tired. He laid his head on her shoulder and tried to stay awake enough to not fall off of Thunder as they looked for a dry place to bed down for the night.

  The sun had set an hour ago and the rain continued unabated. Terry sat at a picnic table under a large awning at a rest stop somewhere near the state border. He didn’t know where. He’d barely been able to stay awake to hang on to Delores and had lost track of where they were and where they’d headed. He wasn’t even sure what time it was.

  She’d looped his arm over her shoulder while whispering something that sounded comforting and had sat him down here at this table. Thunder was parked by another table, their sleeping bags were out, and Delores was rummaging through her notebooks. She’d done all that. Terry smiled. Good choices. He’d made good choices today.

  He winced. His hand hurt. The cut on his left palm was pretty bad. The paper towel was helping with the bleeding, but he needed something more substantial. His arms screamed at him. His leg felt bruised. Maybe D had a first aid kit in with her notebooks.

  I should have asked Aunt Dottie to pack me one, he thought.

  He started as Delores sat across from him. He must have dozed off. She smiled at him. He smiled back.

  She’s so pretty, he thought. He almost said something, but shook his head instead. Knights and mages don’t fraternize. Far too tired now.

  “Give me your hand.” She said gently. He did.

  She held his left hand, palm up, in her left hand and held her right hand over it. She began quietly speaking in a language he couldn’t understand, and as she spoke he felt something welling up in her. He leaned forward. Her bands and wrapping started to glow again and the glow spread to her palms. He leaned back. He thought about pulling his hand away but it felt held in place. He was now very much awake.

  “I’m sure we have some bandages somewhere if that would be easier.” He said in a rush. Magic, overt magic like this, scared him. He had his reasons.

  She just shook her head and kept chanting. He watched in horror as the skin on his hand slid back together and sealed like a zipper. He felt his arm and shoulder pop back into place, which he didn’t realize had been a thing that had happened. He winced. The soreness in his arms lessened and vanished. His leg stopped throbbing from where the sword snapped. He gasped. The glow dissipated and Delores opened her eyes and looked at him.

  “Better?”

  He swallowed. He really did feel better. He also felt more awake than he had in a while.

  “Yeah. Again, we probably have some bandages somewhere?”

  She gave him a flat look.

  “What is the point,” she said, “of having a mage if you aren’t going to let them be a mage?”

  He sighed.

  “You’re right. Thank you.”

  She smiled again. Terry slowly became aware of her holding his hand in both of hers. One of her thumbs was gently massaging his previously injured palm. He looked at their hands. SHE looked at their hands. They both snatched their hands back. She put her chin in her palm and looked away to watch the rain in the floodlights, obviously trying to pretend it hadn’t happened. For that he was grateful.

  “I’m surprised you were actually hurt at all, honestly.” She said.

  He arched an eyebrow.

  “Really? Why?”

  She side-eyed him.

  “You threw a grown man fifty feet at least, broke a sword with your bare hands, jumped twenty feet in the air earlier today, and you PICKED UP AND DESTROYED AN EIGHT HUNDRED POUND BIKE BY YOURSELF.”

  She turned to face him again, glaring at him..

  “The wall helped,” he said.

  “ Hush,” she replied. “Did I mention your magic sword? Sounds kinda like a superhero, to me.”

  Terry felt his scalp start to sweat. There were things in his past that he and his aunt and uncle just never talked about. The dreams. A voice in his childhood. This. His mind raced at a thousand miles an hour and he just started talking.

  “Do you know how cheap his sword was? With my plate it was easy to break.”

  She raised an eyebrow. He swallowed and continued.

  “AND, it’s pretty easy to leverage a guy who isn’t expecting to be thrown. As for jumping, you cast a circle of protection.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “It’s a wind spell. I know from my reading that those can sometimes cause lift. I was just as surprised as you were.” He suddenly felt very dirty.

  She just stared at him.

  “And you know how adrenaline enhances strength. You know how angry I was. Trust me, my arms let me know I’m not a superhero after that. Didn't you hear my shoulder pop back in the socket?”

  “And the sword?” She said.

  Terry sighed. He reached into his coat and pulled the blade from his pocket of holding. She watched as he looked it over in his hands. He laid it on the table between them. The poor fluorescent lights under the awning weren’t great, but the sword, the blade in particular, seemed to pull the light to it. It reflected it back and made it seem more than a simple weapon. She ogled the thing.

  “I suppose it’s time you got a look at it, huh?”

  “Where did you get this?” she asked quietly. “Lawless said something about your dad’s sword.”

  Terry sighed. He didn’t want to go over all of it. There was too much. He decided to tell the better part of the story.

  “My father was on the Natchez Trace trying to track down some yokels from Smith County. They’d been finding elven caravans that used the Trace and robbing or looting them.”

  He looked at her.

  “They don’t like the interstate, ya know?”

  She nodded so he continued.

  “Well, when he found them they’d already killed one of the guards. I say guards, but they were just custodians. They were unarmed and complete pacifists.”

  It was Terry’s turn to watch the rain as it fell behind Delores. He tried to picture the scene in his mind’s eye. He’d heard it enough that it wasn’t that hard for him. The autumn leaves, the wooden cart and horse. The red blood of an elf on pavement. A beat up Dodge blocking them, the road full of hillbillies. His father standing there with just his old steel broad sword.

  “My dad managed to subdue the yokels and bind them. He was calling for a van to come pick them up when one of the elves approached him.”

  Terry smiled but he felt sad. He’d never gotten to hear these from his dad or his mom. Tonight it was hitting him harder than usual. Probably Lawless's casual mentions of people he'd never known.

  “They wanted to reward him for saving them. He refused. He’d let one of them die, he said. He didn’t deserve it. But they insisted and gave him this sword. He was mesmerized by the blade and the jewels in the hilt. It looked just like it does now.”

  He looked at Delores and she had her elbows on the table with her chin in her palms. She seemed very interested.

  “When he looked up to thank them they had vanished. You know how elves are.”

  He shrugged.

  “All we know is the sword is enchanted. It tends to surprise me when I least expect it. Like today with the gargouille. I think it’s done that once before in the eleven years I’ve had it.”

  He leaned with his forearms on the table and hung his head between his shoulders. He closed his eyes. The energy he'd felt from the healing fled from him and he felt worn.

  “I am so tired, D.”

  He felt her hand on his forearm, but didn’t look up.

  “You really are something, you know that? Forget the physical feats. YOU are something,” she said.

  His head whipped up as he heard the sound of a scooter motor through the rain. He saw a headlight snap off in the darkness and in a second he was standing. The grip on the sword extended to fit both his hands. He caught the movement of Delores jumping up and taking on a weird battle stance.

  “I WARNED YOU!” Terry shouted over the rain at the shape he saw running toward them.

  As soon as it hit the light Terry slammed his sword blade into the ground. Elton Beasley stopped dead at the sight. Terry looked down at it, and realized he’d plunged the blade into the concrete foundation. Elton snapped his gaze back to Terry.

  “Found you! Finally!” he said as he unstrapped something from his back.

  “What are you doing here, Elton?” Terry asked in exasperation. His muscles burned from the sudden movements.

  Elton pulled the object around so Terry could get a good look at it. The pudgy bard smiled.

  “You didn’t even take any spoils!”

  Terry looked warily at the shield. It was a medium sized kite shield, he thought. It was a deep red with a white cross on it. The inverse of his own tabbard and the colors of Robert Lawless. There was a round section cut in the center of the top.

  “I don’t want ‘spoils’ Elton. I don’t want anything from that town or that man.”

  He looked out at the rain and sighed.

  “I’m not going to send you back out into that tonight, but as soon as it slacks up you need to go.”

  Elton had a smile on his face as he laid the shield on one of the picnic tables. He dropped down to one knee and placed his right hand to his chest. As he spoke, Terry’s eyebrows tried to climb into his hairline.

  “Terry Lingal. I, Elton Beasley, vow to follow you on your journey. I will chronicle your deeds and share your tales as a hero. From this day forth I am your humble servant and retainer by the Order of St. George the Dragon Slayer, from this day forth, I am your Troubadour.”

  Neither Terry nor Delores said anything for quite a while. Terry just stared down at Elton who looked up at him looking satisfied. Delores looked between both of them. She broke the silence first.

  “We can ditch him in Petal.”

  Terry strode forward and, grabbing Elton under the arm, dragged him to his feet.

  “Up. Get UP! NEVER kneel before me. Do you understand?”

  Once he was on his feet, Elton stepped back from him.

  “Uh, sure. N-not a problem.”

  Terry walked back to the picnic table by Delores and sat down hard. He hung his head and shook it.

  “I can’t ditch him now.”

  “What?” she asked. “Why not?”

  He looked up at her, trying to tamp down his anger. He was too tired to hang onto it now anyway. He was too tired to fight this.

  “As a knight,” he said slowly, “I can’t force him to break that oath. Only if my vows are broken or one of us is excommunicated.”

  Delores stared daggers at Elton.

  “He told me to choose my knights better. Sue me.” He said.

  “That,” she said, “was a dirty trick. Especially for someone that let a bunch of knights terrorize a town.”

  Elton’s smile finally dropped. A pained expression crossed his face. He looked at Terry.

  “Do you want to tell her or should I?”

  Terry nodded.

  “D, a Troubadour is to follow a knight and write their chronicles. They are NOT to interfere unless the public is directly in danger. Even then they are sworn to pacifism. All they can do is watch.”

  Elton nodded.

  “What I COULD do though, is write a bizarrely specific invitation to Hilochita hoping that an idealistic young knight would show up and hopefully get rid of Robert Lawless. I’d say my plan paid off in spades.”

  Terry smirked.

  “I’m not going to lie. That was pretty smart. Working around your oaths and limitations like that.”

  “Thank you!”

  Terry’s face became serious. He knew the effect it had on people sometimes.

  “Elton, can I trust you?”

  Elton placed his hand back on his chest. His expression suddenly pained.

  “I know I’m not the greatest guy in the world or anything. I'm a coward at heart, but I hold to my vows.”

  He grinned again. This time an open one.

  “Besides. You’re the first Errant Apprentice or Knight Errant I’ve met that might actually deserve to be chronicled. If I can help in any way, I will.”

  Terry felt like he was going to fall asleep right there. He looked up to Delores who met his gaze and shrugged.

  “As long as we don’t have to pay for his food.”

  “OH! I have sooooo got that covered!” Elton said. “Let me go get my stuff.”

  With that he ran back into the pouring rain to bring his scooter under the awning.

  Still looking at Delores, Terry sighed.

  “It hasn’t even been twenty minutes and I already wish it was just you and me again.”