The Union 180 The Ghetto

This was the ghetto of Bivon. Beggars and vagabonds with smeared faces and broken eyes sat on the street with their palms open to any merciful pa.s.serby. Thin dogs and cats with p.r.o.nounced ribs scour the trash for any small meal they could acquire. Rats ran around, black, big and stenching. Sewer water mixed with urine and feces flow in the street. The odor was unholy. The sight was heartbreaking.

"My lord!" A beggar with ragged tunic and muddy face called. She crawled towards Henry, dragging her already soiled clothes.

"Mister Knight!" Called another beggar, a thin man with a sharp chin

Henry tried to ignore them. He had nothing to spare. The little money inside his pocket was for someone else.

"I'm sorry" he muttered to them. He hastened his walk, avoiding the sewer water that flowed in the street.

He then found himself standing outside an old wooden house. Half of the wood had fallen to termites. The door had holes and the windows were broken. He stepped forward and put a knock on the door.

The door creaked. What greeted him was an old woman, white was her hair and wrinkly was her face. Her lose tunic was soiled. She squinted.

"Henry?"

Henry hugged her, as tight as he could as powerful as it could be. "Ma!" Henry buried his face into her shoulder.

"Oh thank the Great Rider and his endless steed. I thought you were dead. The news... they say the knights were decimated by the evil King of Castonia"

"That isn't true Ma. King Timothy is not evil. He is righteous. He is good. He is a fine person. I missed you"

She put her palm on his cheek. "My boy. Look how you've grown. Come inside. Shirley! Your brother is here. Prepare something"

Henry went inside their house. It was the same but a little old and spent. The furniture were dusty. Several chairs were missing a leg. The only clean and well-maintained place was the carved wooden image of the Great Rider on his endless steed. Three candles were lit around the wooden image.

Henry sat on one of the chair. His mother sat on the creaky bed. After a while a small child brought them a jar.

"I prepared water mother. We don't have bread anymore" said Shirley. She looked at Henry and her eyes grew wide.

Henry's heart melted. He took the jar from her and put it on the table. He then grabbed his sister into an embrace.

"You've grown. The Shirley that I know was just a little girl"

"I thought you were dead. Mother and I thought you were dead"

Henry severed the embrace. He caressed his sister's hair. "Have you been living well? Where is father?"

Shirley looked back at their mother. She stared for long before turning to Henry "Father is dead"

A jolt of pain struck him. His bones shook in despair. His arms lost strength as his head fell downwards. Several heavy breaths later and he managed to ask in quivering voice, "how?"

"The winter wasn't kind to us" His mother voiced "After the invasion, life became harder. Your father lost his job and you know how hard it is to find jobs here in the ghetto. They discriminate. We are lowly infidels they say, believers of a false G.o.d. All the high-ranking officials are believers of the Omniscient- the King, the Princess..." She looked at him "The Knights"

"But before I left the King promised to improve the condition in the ghetto. He even gave a speech. He said that whatever G.o.d we believe in, the crown will protect all the citizens"

"A lie. Believers of the Great Rider had always been discriminated in this city and single speech couldn't change that. Even serfs have better living condition compared to the people in this ghetto. And your father, after losing his job as a mason, did all kinds of job just to feed me and your sister. He plowed snow, he cleaned stables, there was one time he guarded a traveling merchant. A fight broke out and you father's jaw was broken. Despite his injury, he still worked until..." Small droplets of tears shone from his mother's eyes "Until his body gave up. We buried him"

"I'm sorry" Henry was reduced to a grieving man. He wasn't close to his father since he changed his belief and joined the order of the knights but he still loved the old man "I should have returned sooner"

"No Henry, don't feel sad. Your father is now riding with the Great Rider in an eternal journey. I dare say he is happier now than when he was still alive. You have lived your life well. I'm happy that you have. You shouldn't shackle yourself with us. Live your life freely Henry. Just like how the Great Rider rides freely in the endless gra.s.slands. You have no responsibility towards us"

"You're wrong mother" Henry said, head lowered and eyes filled with conviction "I am Prefect Henry Molt. I have sworn an oath to be the people's justice. I have a responsibility towards you and the others. I have hundreds of Knights and twenty thousand Castonian allies at my back. We will put an end to this folly. Just wait mother"

Henry rose from the old seat. He grabbed a small bag of coins from his pocket. He handed the thing to his sister. "It's not much but it will help you until we take the city. After that come and find me or I will find you. In the past, Father was too proud to accept financial help from his son who have taken the faith of the Omniscient. I hope you're not the same"

Shirley handed the bag to their mother. Their mother took it and looked up to Henry "Thank you. And I hope you and your allies are successful"

Henry hugged his sister and his mother. Eyes closed, he embedded the feeling into the deepest crevices of his mind. "I must go Ma. This is farewell for now"

"Be careful on your way back Henry. The ghetto is not a friendly place for a knight"

He put a kiss on her forehead "I will Ma. And I will be safe. Your son is the one known as First Spear"

Henry went to the door. Providing a single nod to them, he exited. His heart was heavy, especially knowing the state of his mother and sister and the death of his father. But he must go on.

**********

Hooded men watched First Spear exit a house. Their images were hidden beneath the rags that covered half their faces. Beneath their long hooded dark coats were their armored bodies. First Spear is a dangerous opponent after all.

First Spear's white armor glinted. He was a target as clear as day. Balian's squire shook his head. He couldn't believe that Henry was stupid enough to believe that he will be able to get out of the city alive. He had lost many duels against First Spear. Henry's strength was legendary, he must admit. But every man dies when stabbed deep enough. Every man croaks death. First Spear was the same.

The squire had his palm raised. The knights behind gave a nod. Five moved to the east, pa.s.sing through a rubbled house. One group secured the west, moving in silence. The rest were put on back up and lookout in case something goes awry.

The squire fixed the cover on his face. Putting his hand beneath his cloak, he grasped a short dagger. He held it firm.

The Squire advanced, his footsteps m.u.f.fled. His focus was solely on Henry. Dashing in small and silent steps he approached from behind. He bent a little, providing shade to his face. He sprung, stabbing the dagger towards Henry's unprotected neck.

The First Spear spared him a quick glance before his dagger made contact. Henry tilted his head, his movements soft and fluid. The squire's strike fell to the side. The squire grabbed another dagger with his other hand. He again stabbed but Henry was able to dodge again. He stabbed for the third time. This time First Spear caught his hand, tilted his palm, and made the blade fall. The squire's other hand also moved. He aimed for Henry's face. But Henry was also able to grab his other stabbing hand. Henry redirected his strike to the side and slammed a knee to the squire's stomach.

The squire's vision blurred for a second. Body bent into contortion and pain surging through his abdomen, he dropped to the ground, rolled in pain and gasped for air. Henry stood above him with sword drawn and prepared. Henry took a step back. The other knights drew their weapons and slowly approached.