Dungeon 42

A Steadfast Knight

Chapter 137

Ackley mulled over Larch’s last words while he cleaned the man’s blood off his sword. There had only been one woman in the Silvertree family by the end of things. Lady Erica.

Fleur was back on the scent once Ackley cleaned his blade. She pointed at the glade initially, but he skirted the edge, hoping the woman, be it lady Erica or another, had left it at some point. He seemed to get lucky, Fleur pointing again.

Wary of the sling, Ackley made a point of moving as quietly as he could manage behind cover. The trees were too thick to make it easy, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t get lucky if he gave her a chance.

With Larch dead, the spirits were calmer, but not entirely so. The new quiet cast an eerie feeling over the woods after their earlier anger. Moving with care, he eventually heard a soft movement ahead of him.

Slowly Ackely moved, careful to avoid making any sound to start his quarry. Finally, he managed to get close enough to actually get a look at the person he’d been stalking. He found himself looking at a familiar face, though no longer the one he’d once known.

Erica Silverleaf had been less than twenty and not so much shy as uninterested in her father's social politicking. She preferred to spend her time managing the household and reading or sewing.

The woman Ackley was looking at moved with confidence that would have been foreign to that girl. She was dressed simply for travel and besides the sling had a spear propped against a tree, ready to hand. She was also alert and Ackley found himself having to draw back to avoid being seen.

“Lady Erica Silverleaf?” Ackley called out softly.

Erica stiffened for a moment before grabbing her spear and ducking behind a tree. Putting it between her and the sound of Ackley’s voice. A good decision really, given what was going on.

“I’m Ackley Camphor, I was a squire when you left the estate,” he continued. Ackley had been one of a handful of squires on the estate. The only one from a humble background as his father had been the first to earn a knighthood in their history.

Ackley doubted Erica would remember him and wouldn’t fault her for it either. His family had served hers for generations, but peasants weren’t seen as valuable supporters. Particularly in areas where it was still common to have serfs.

“What was your hound's name then?” she called back.

Ackley was left dumb with surprise for a moment. It seemed he had left an impression on her, though not a terribly desirable one.

“I had a wolf I was trying to domesticate…that ate your cat. His name was Willow,” Ackley admitted.

The story went that dogs as they were now descended from wolves. He hadn’t been happy with the mastiffs they’d been given to use on patrols at the time. They had a tendency toward sickliness, so he’d thought to breed a bit of the wolf’s robustness back into them. The experiment had less-than-ideal results even before the cat was slain.

“At least you’re man enough to admit that now,” Erica called back. Ackley thought he heard a muffled chuckle but didn’t dare look to check. Her remembering his wolf's name didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to put that spear right through his guts if she felt threatened.

“I did admit it to my master and got a strapping for it. I just didn’t want you to cry so… Wait, did you know it the whole time?” Ackley asked as her lack of surprise dawned on him.

“Hard to miss when that ill-tempered ball of piss was suddenly replaced by such a sweet little creature,” Erica replied. She definitely laughed that time. “He also suddenly became a she.”

Ackley bit back on a groan. He hadn’t thought to check at the time. It was no wonder Erica had looked at him oddly the few times he’d seen her after that. He must have seemed a right idiot at the time.

“So, with the pleasantries dispensed with. Why are you here, Ser Camphor?” Erica asked quite reasonably.

“I wanted to confirm your identity myself,” Ackley admitted. “The Baronet claimed your group were bandits. The mage I was with, Larch, let it slip who you were.”

“Ser Mathis was your master, what oath did you swear?” Erica asked.

“Like him, the oath of Tiamon,” Ackley said with no small amount of pride. Most knights swore oaths to their liege lord and that was the end of the matter. They’d do as they were told. His mentor had held to an older tradition and Ackley had taken it to heart.

Tiamon, the first knight if the legend was to be believed, had never sworn himself to a liege lord. Instead, he’d followed a strict code and dedicated himself to supporting his homeland purely. Swearing Tiamon’s oath was a promise to keep his oath above the law, and the law above the order of any lord a knight might choose to swear.

Few still took it, most of those being knights errant. Thinking further, Ackley felt rather certain it was the reason Baronet hadn’t ever seemed to like him much. Though he’d never said it expressly, it had likely shown in his behavior. There wasn’t a ready explanation otherwise for why Larch had been told about the supposed bonus and not him.

“Then what do you mean to do now?” Erica asked, still rightfully cautious.

“I’ve already killed the mage, so I best get on with killing the Baronet now,” Ackely said simply.

“By yourself?” Erica asked, clearly astonished.

“He’ll never see it coming,” Ashley said and laughed. He probably still seemed as stupid as the boy who’d replaced a tom cat with a female and thought himself clever.

“One generally doesn't expect a man to take total leave of his senses,” Erica said with a huff of disbelief.

“I assure you, I’ll alert those who might still be loyal that you need help before I get myself killed,” Ackley offered.

“Very well. Best get to it then,” Erica replied with obvious suspicion.