A small body is impaled on the other side of my broad sword. I watch in horror as the life fades from the little boy’s eyes. His mouth agape, the remnants of a bloodcurdling scream. Hooves clatter by followed by the battle cries of my fellow soldiers. The sounds echo past me as they push our full-frontal crusade forward.
We breached the gates mere moments ago.
Where are the men? Where are the sinners? Surely God doesn’t want us, his holy knights, to strike down innocent women and children in cold blood.
I remove his body gently from my blade. I lift him gently and carry him away from the main road. I spot a house nearby which I enter.
I glance around to make sure we are alone. Once satisfied, I place the young boy on the nearby chair, laying him in a sleeping position. I turn my back, and even though I can hear a squeak and some shuffling, I refuse to kill more innocents.
I exit through the door, walking down the path in the opposite direction from the rest of the so-called holy hoard. I don’t care if I am hunted down for the rest of my life as a deserter. What the church has done today is unspeakable.
I pass the large wooden gates, and there is nothing but splintered corpses. I head towards the horses which were stashed nearby, looking for my beige mare, Bristle. Finding the girl, I mount up ready to depart.
“Sir Knight?” A young girl’s voice is heard behind me.
Eyes widened; I accept my fate for a mere moment. Surely, I will be punished for all this blood on my hands.
“Excuse me, Sir Knight?” the girl clears her throat.
I slowly turn around and see the young woman. So young.
“Yes, sorry my lady. How can I assist?” I ask.
Her brown hair rips from her shawl in the sudden sandy gust. I block the wind with my left gauntlet.
“Could I perhaps leave with you?” she asks loudly.
I’m aghast. My lids flutter as I try to comprehend what she just asked.
“Don’t you have family to return to?” I ask her, baffled.
“I do not, Sir Knight.” Her voice is catchy, tears forming in her eyes.
The horrors this poor girl must have seen. “All right,” I sigh, “pardon me, I never asked for your name.”
“It’s Anna.” She states, her eyes burning brightly.
I dismount and step towards her, “You can call me Gaspard.” Stepping back, I collect Bristle and lead her towards Anna. “Its best if you ride her.”
She seemed flabbergasted at my suggestion. “Sir Gaspard, I have never ridden a horse before.” She gasped.
“Don’t fret, I will be handling her reins.” Her cheeks flush red. “Will you ride as well?”
“What? No!” I clear my voice and gain my composure, my ears burning bright red.
“It is not wise for two people to be on top of a horse.”
“Ah, I see.” She seemed disappointed.
“Come let’s go.” I hold out a hand to make her mounting easier. She is dwarfed compared to my steed. “Hold on tight.” She nods. “Come Bristle.” I mutter. The three of us set off, hoping to reach a new town before the rest of the crusaders catch up.
By nightfall, we still haven’t found a safe place to set up camp. “I suppose we will be sleeping here for the night.” I mutter rather disappointed.
“Will we be safe?” She asks.
“We should for now.” I help her down. “Besides, Bristle here needs her rest and some food and water.”
I remove a cup and feed bag from the saddle. It’s not ideal but for an emergency this should do, I have noticed some farmlands in the distance, an excellent opportunity for her to graze. They should also have clean, fresh water.
“I do not have many rations to keep us going for long. I will have to find a town or at least an opportunity to hunt if we are to survive all of this.”
“Don’t worry Sir Gaspard. God will provide for us.” She smiles broadly.
I don’t feel so sure, would God have wanted any of this, and if she is a believer, if her family are believers, why did we strike that town under the impression that they weren’t?
After splitting a loaf of bread and sharing a hefty drink of water, the two of us lie down for the night.
“I will keep watching.” I state.
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Perhaps.” I can feel the sleep lulling at me, my lids growing heavy, my body weary from weeks of countless battles.
“If you’re tired, you should rest as well.” Her tone is soft and gentle.
Lying down, she turns her back towards me and quickly falls into a deep slumber. I sit and watch the twinkling sky, waiting for any form of movement over the flat horizon.
Soon, my vision is plagued with all the faces of those that I ran through and struck with my sword. I jump awake, body drenched in a cold sweat, gasping for breath.
“Are you, all right?” Anna’s voice is terrified.
“It’s nothing, just … a bad dream.”
She pulls a tiny cloth from a pocket in her tattered, dirtied skirt, pressing it gently on my forehead. “It’ll be okay. God is watching over us.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask her, questioning my own faith.
“If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here, by your side, and you wouldn’t have walked away back there.”
I think back to that moment. Noticing all the injustice, did God really show his hand and guide me from the crimes of the church? “Perhaps…” I look at Anna, surely, he saved her as well.
Packing up our little camp site, we press on. Soon enough we find ourselves on the outskirts of a farm, cattle moving about and enjoying the warm sunlight.
“Look there!” She states atop the horse. “A road of some sorts.”
Sure, enough there it is. “Let’s follow it and see if we can settle here for the day. Bristle really needs the rest.”
Anna claps her hands together in excitement. A thatched roof peeks out from beyond the horizon. Once we reach outside the gate, I help her down and make my way towards the door. Knocking. A middle-aged woman, large from her pregnancy, opens the door.
“Can I help you?” she asks nervously.
“Would you mind if the young lady Anna rests here for a moment?” I ask, gesturing to the young girl behind me.
“Oh, you poor thing.” She pushes past me and takes her tiny hands in her own. “You must be famished.”
“I could eat.” She smiles.
“If I may ask, would it be fine for my horse to graze between the cattle? She has had a rather long journey.”
“Oh, what a beauty.” She states glancing towards the gate where Bristle stands idly. “Sure, let her have some fun.”
“Thank you for your hospitality, ma’am.” I bow slightly and head towards my steed to remove the saddle and reins. “There you go, have some fun.” I give her a gently stroke down her neck. Leading her onto the grass, I leave her to do her thing. I turn towards the lady standing in the doorway and bow again before I step forward, ready to proceed with my travels.
“Aren’t you coming in for a wash and a warm meal?” She calls behind me.
I feel a tear flow down my scruffy face, such kindness. God, I hope this is your hand at work. I leave a quick prayer. Turning on my heel, I head towards her.
“Once again, thank you so much for your hospitality, though I don’t believe I deserve it.”
“Pish posh,” she counters, “No person would deny a weary man, a warm meal and a chance to clean up.”
I cock a smile. I am filthy. My once white garments, my symbol as a crusader, are no longer pristine.
“You can leave the clothes to me; I will ensure that it is washed and returned to you upon nightfall.”
The two of us just gazed at her.
“I should have some spare clothes around here somewhere. My eldest son is about your age, Anna. I hope you don’t mind wearing breachers.” Anna just shook her head. “My husband is a bit burlier than you sir, but it should do for the day.”
“Thank you. I will repay you one day, I swear.”
“There is no need. Kindness is always repaid with more kindness. It is God’s way.” I sit and ponder on her words.
As the seasons passed, the crusaders did not come past the farmlands. They didn’t launch an assault at any of the villages I visited to spread God’s holy word. I do wonder. Perhaps this is what He truly wanted, not the unbridled war in His name.
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Micah Angel is the pseudonym used by Michelle Engelbrecht. Michelle lives in South Africa with her mom and many pets. Other than writing, she likes to spend her time taking long walks for inspiration, playing video games and binging either anime or true crime.
She started her writing career in October 2022 and her first book, A Barbarians Rage was published in February 2024. Her short story, When obsession turns to murder was published in the WSA magazine in August 2024 and her sequel, A Druid’s Peace was published in September 2024. She also published Wings of Fate for fun.
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Read – Deng’s World – A Short Story by Lino Arop – South Sudan
