Once upon a time there was a land that was fair and prosperous and ruled by a just and wise king.
In song, it had always been connected with the kingdom of Arthur. For this king, like Arthur, had a band of strong and glorious knights. Together, they had fought long and hard against barbarians, dragons, bandits, giants and other men of evil.
And by that fight they had brought peace. The people grew happy, and the years past.
Now the strongest of the kings knight's, went by the name of Blaire. The king often deferred to him in times of battle, for not only was his sword sharp, and his arms strong, but his mind was sharp. No army would stand before him long without, before long, being out-witted, -flanked and -manned.
But as peace came and the kingdom's enemies perished or were afraid to attack, Blaire queitly and without fanfare took his leave. The King spent many hours arguing with him, trying to convince him to stay, but all to no avail. My Lord, he said. I need to learn to dwell in peace, without the sword. But I could never do that hear. There are too many memories. With that he handed the king his sword and armor and left.
The king was sad, but could do nothing else, but put the armor and sword in a place of honor, and commissioned his mintrels to sing Blaire's praises, for there was no better man in the kingdom. And the king had always given credit where credit was due.
The years wore on and the kingdom only prospered. It's knights took to the field less and less. The Queen bore her king 2 sons and a daughter. They grew up trained to be mighty warriors, for the knghts had little to do but teach them. And from all around them, the three heard of Blaire and little else.
But the year that the daughter, the youngest of the three, came of age, frightening news washed through the kingdom. A huge and black army was pillaging the borders, laying seige to castles and leaving the land in ruins.
Pleas came from the borderlands and refugees flooded in towards the capital. The king quickly dispatched a small army.
A month went and with little news. A battered reminant of the army stumbled into the capital one morning and with it they brought the enemies ultimatum. King Clask, an old enemy, was coming for revenge, and his army was no small thing. He demanded nothing less than the king's head. And Blaire's.
The king's council of course considered nothing of the sort. But all, even the King, secretly worried. The last time they had defeated Clask, it had only been because of Blaires guile and cunning. They wondered if they could defeat him on their own.
Gloom settled in over the kingdom as the King sent out for all able bodied men, and preperations for war began. Hope seemed to fade from everyone's hearts.
We need Blaire they all said.
They have tens of thousands of soldiers, said one who could not know. All orcs from the black pits of hell.
They eat the fallen and burn the fields, said another.
Blood is what they have instead of ale and slaves they trade instead of goods, said more.
The only undisturbed were the young, especially the king's children. For they felt they had all that Blaire ever had. Strength and cunning.
We will fight, my lord, they all said.
But when the king heard his daughter say it, he shook his head. No someone must protect your mother, he said.
She is warrior enough herself, said the daughter. And it was true, for the Queen had often fought at the king's side in days gone by.
The King was silent. If you will not let me go, the daughter said. Then I shall follow.
The King shook his head still. No, and you have always obeyed me.
Then I shall find Blaire and bring him to you.
At this the king almost jumped. The daughter knew where to throw her punches. He had not thought of this. And so he determined to let her have her way. His hope was not all that high she would find him, but it would at least keep her from danger.
The day the army set out, he appointed two servants to her command and determined that they should meet in two weeks time where the battle was expected to take place. With her she took Blaire's armor and sword.
The daughter and her small company roder hard and fast, one servant guiding who had knew most of Blaire's whereabouts. Following him and daily rumor, the path led them into the mountains for several days and at last into a deep valley. They heard news from a villager that hermit Blaire lived above a village in a cave. The villagers tone was reverant and told them that the inhabitants all but clothed and fed him as he meditated.
A sheperd led them to the cave just as night fell. The sheperd told them how people would stand at the mouth of the cave and ask questions. Few were invited in. Some he would not even respond to.
We have come from the King, the daughter said into the dark of the cave. Silenced followed.
The king?
He needs you. We need you. Claske has returned.
I cannot, they heard, all but a whisper. Leave me, he said louder. The sheperd herded them down the slopes. No more tonight, he said firmly.
But they were back the next morning.
Your enemy is back, the daughter pleaded. Only you can defeat him. If you don't come the kingdom is doomed and Claske will come to find you. He wants your head!
I cannot. Leave me. Please.
She pleaded more for hours, but was only answered by wind and birds.
Later in the day she sat thinking. The sun was sinking fast and time was running short. Light gleamed off the armor they had packed for Blaire. Quickly, she grabbed the armor and sword, and with her two men took it up the mountain side to the cave.
This time, she does not speak and instead lights a torch. Blaire sits cross legged against the side of the cave, flinching from the light. What, he cries.
The servants lay the armor in front of him, and she lays the sword across his lap. The metal glints in the torch light and they all wait. Blaire sits and stares, not at them, but at the armor and sword before him. His hand slowly moves and graps the hilt.
He sighs a great sigh and begins to put on the armor.
But light is light, and age is age. Blaire stumbles out of the cave the armor heavy and the sky to bright. He leans and totters past the arms of his friends and does not stop until he has rolled some ways down the mountainside and hit a tree.
The armor rings through the air, but all else is stillness. The three are shocked. When they find that he his dead they all three burst into tears. Blaire is gone, and with it hope says one of the men.
But the woman's tears dry more quickly and a plan assembles in her head. She orders the armor stripped, and a grave dug.
Meanwhile the king is moving. His army fights small skirmishes, some are easily won, others only at a cost. Already though his men are weary. It is only by the virtue of his sons that the army hasn't fled. Hope rests on their shoulders.
The days pass and The day, the day of battle approaches. The fight will take place in a valley between low lying hills. The king has aligned his men as best he knows.
The battle begins in earnest in mid afternoon. The enemies army flows over the hills towards them, swords and spears clashing on shields. The two armies meet with a great shout from both sides. The king's men slowly give way and his tricks fail to help. Their line is only barely just holding. The day begins to look black as the sun begins to fall.
A loud horn blast brings a sudden lull in the fighting. It has come from the flank and the king fears the worst. That a second army is setting upon him.
But it is but one knight and a small band of fighters clustered about him. They hold a flag in their midst. Blaire's!
The king's men shout all at once. Hope renewed drives the blades of swords enemy armor. The enemy quakes, for they too know the flag and what it forbodes. Not all die so easily and Claske stands at last until he is driven to the ground by Blaire himself.
The day is hard fought but the day is won.
The king surveys its end. His arms are sore and his sword drooping. His eyes almost blind from blood and sweat. He walks among the dead and dying. His sons follow. They look for Blaire, but Blaire does not stop for them. He rides off, turning at last to the king and saluting.
The daughter finds herself in a woods and exhausted. Most had fled before her, so she had spent most of the afternoon riding here then there, rallying troops. But then she had fought long and hard with the men surrounding Claske.
She dismounts, she ties the horse to a tree and makes a bed of leaves.
In the night she awakes and all she can hear is the groan of the dying. She sleeps then only fitfully the faces of the men she killed surrounding her in her sleep. The forest fills with blood.
She wakes and suddenly realized what Blaire had been seeking in his cave. She rides there, and stays.
Years later the new King's son seeks the immortal Blaire, for another enemy approaches the kingdom. He is handed a package in the darkness of the cave. He buckles under its weight, knows it is armor, feels the sharpness of the sword.
All he hears is a rough woman's voice that croaks only, "Return when you are done."
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