A Hero's Journey: Squire

     Though the afternoon was balmy, a terrible chill ran down Cavall’s spine as he looked down from a high hill at the ruins of the Wincott manor. The garden maze had grown from well-trimmed hedges to a wild green tangle, moss had taken over the cobblestone path to the mansion, and of course, the mansion itself was a mess of burned and broken walls, ashen floors, fallen roofs, and other remnants of the Blue Cybunny’s old life, stained and obliterated by fire.

     The sight was enough to make him step back and gulp. He glanced over his shoulder at Rohane, who was seated under the single tree covering the hilltop and next to their sleeping bags.

     “You should get some rest – and make sure no one sees you, Cavall.”

     “Um…r-right, sir.” Cavall did as he was told. “D-Do you really think my parents will be here tomorrow?”

     “Once they find out that you’re alive and well, they will,” Rohane answered. He was seated under the single tree covering the hilltop, next to their sleeping bags. “Our spies have been spreading rumors of a young Cybunny with a medallion bearing the Wincott emblem going to the Wincott manor.”

     Cavall groaned as he sat down and drew his knees up to his chest.

     “Maybe I shouldn’t have come with you after all…I’m, I’m scared to see Mother and Father.” He shuddered. “I can’t believe I agreed to come out here and hope they come find me.”

     “You know,” the White Blumaroo said, “I wanted you to remain safe in the castle, too. But when you told me you wanted to move forward…I knew you were ready for this mission.” He turned to the Cybunny and patted him on the shoulder. “And when you return to your old home, we’ll be right behind you.”

     “It’s not my home,” Cavall grumbled. “It never was.”

     * * *

     Cavall felt like he was being marched off to his execution when he and Rohane marched into the manor courtyard. The morning was bright and cloudless, but inside he was filled with cold dread and trepidation.

     “There’s no one here,” he said, a part of him hoping that was true and they never saw anyone else within the Wincott territory from there on out.

     “Maybe not, but…”

     Rohane suddenly pushed the Blue Cybunny forward, and the latter tumbled onto the cobbled path toward the ruined mansion, grazing his knee. The knight drew his sword, which clashed with the chipped scimitar of a snarling, Stealthy Aisha. The two of them locked blades, but the white Blumaroo saw a Brown Lutari burst from a clump of nearby bushes, sprinting for Cavall.

     “No! Cavall, run!”

     “But sir – “

     Before the Lutari could reach him, Rohane broke away from the Aisha and threw himself onto the Lutari. As they grappled on the ground, Rohane stuck out his leg to trip the Aisha, the three of them entangled on the grass.

     “Go! Now!”

     His heart hammering in his throat, Cavall turned and ran toward the ruins of the manor. Much of the door had been burned away into ash and splinters, and so he crashed straight through it, stumbling into what was left of the foyer and living room. As he caught his breath, a faint burnt stench coupled with rotting wood reached his nostrils, making him cough as he wandered the corridors of the only place he had ever known for the first ten years of his life.

     As he trod upon the remnants of a shredded carpet, he felt it tremble under his foot. With a yelp, he jumped away in time to see the carpet crease and crinkle as it was moved aside to reveal an open trapdoor. And in the trapdoor was a gaunt Royal Cybunny whose fur had lost its luster and who looked out of breath herself.

     “C-Cathton?”

     “Mother?!”

     Before he knew it, the Royal Cybunny had flung her arms around him, clutching him tightly. Cavall stood there, unsure of whether to escape or to let Lady Elesia Wincott embrace him. He could smell perspiration mingled with a faint woodfire scent and something woodsier – certainly nothing he would associate with his mother.

     “Then…the rumours are true!” Elesia exclaimed. Cavall could feel her body shaking as she sobbed, tears dripping onto his shoulder. For a moment he stood there, his insides feeling like gravel being shaken in a bag. “You’re alive! You’ve grown! Oh, Cathton, I’ve missed you so much – my dear boy…”

     Those words echoed and roared in his ears. Finally, he pulled away.

     “I’m not your dear boy,” he whispered shakily. “I’m just your heir.”

     Elesia clutched her chest and peered at him with a mildly pained expression. “What? You’re my son, darling.” She reached out to grasp Cavall’s wrist, but he stepped away from her.

     “No, Mother,” the Blue Cybunny answered, more defiantly. “I was never your son.”

     “That’s preposterous.”

     Cavall froze at the sound of that voice. It was a voice that haunted him in his dreams, and it was far worse hearing it in person.

     Lord Lotham Wincott stepped out from the ruins of his study, a cutlass sheathed at his waist; Cavall recognized it as one of the swords that had been mounted on the wall. He smiled as he approached Cavall, but the smile never reached the Royal Usul’s eyes – as it often never did.

     “You are our son, Cathton.”

     “Cavall.”

     “What? Are you talking back to me?”

     “My name is Cavall now,” said Cavall, clenching his hands into fists. “Not Cathton.”

     Lotham squinted at him. “Hmph. A commoner’s name.”

     “It’s a hero’s name, Father,” the Blue Cybunny replied, drawing himself up to full height – never mind that it was not much.

     The Royal Usul’s gaze hovered on the red and blue badge on Cavall’s tunic. “Is that a…squire’s badge? You’re working for the knights?” He gasped. “Is this…a trap? Their nefarious plan?”

     “Wh-what plan?” Cavall blurted out. “I-I don’t know about their plan, but…but my plan is never letting you and Mother rule over me anymore.”

     “Excuse me? Is that what the knights teach their squires? How to talk back to their elders?” Lotham sneered. "This is precisely why the knights are terrible, Cathton!"

     "It’s ‘Cavall’.”

     As Elesia gasped, Lotham asked dangerously, “You…are you changing the name we gave you?”

     Cavall nodded as he stood his ground. “Yes. Because I am not your property, Father.”

     “My property?” the Usul roared. “You are my child! My heir! Is this how you repay me – repay us? For giving you everything?”

     “You did not give me everything,” Cavall hissed.

     Lotham growled and drew his cutlass. “It sounds like you need to be taught a lesson in respect!” He swung his sword toward Cavall, who ducked and pulled out his own blade. “But just so you know – you pushed me to do this.” Lotham flicked his cutlass, which met Cavall’s smallsword. The Cybunny stepped back, his weapon in the guard position as he and his father circled.

     “Shall I be the bad guy this time?” Lotham said smoothly. “Very well then.” He lunged; his blade thudded into a section of broken wall as Cavall twirled aside, blocking incoming strikes while continuing to back away.

     “You – were – always – the bad guy!” Cavall cried in between parries. He swung the smallsword widely, and Lotham’s lip curled with contempt as he halted the smallsword with his cutlass at every turn.

     “Did you think the swords in my study were just for show, boy?” The Royal Usul bore down on his son mercilessly, hacking, slashing, and thrusting. He didn’t seem to notice – or care – that he had nicked Cavall’s cheek and hands, and that Cavall still continued to fight. Tripping over rubble, Cavall dodged and gritted his teeth as Lotham’s cutlass cut his ears, but cried out in pain as one feint later, Lotham kneed him viciously in the stomach and freed one hand to slap him in the face before slamming him into a pile of dust and rubble.

     Though he was dazed, blinded by the dust and tasting dirt in his mouth, Cavall dimly noticed his mother watching the duel, her face like stone. The Blue Cybunny dropped to his knees, smallsword clattering out of his grip.

     He glanced at the sword leveled toward him, but when he met his father’s eyes, Cavall’s gaze burned with fury and his entire body trembled not only from exertion but also from rage and frustration and many other emotions finally bubbling to the surface.

     “I never wanted to do this.” Lotham shook his head as he touched Cavall’s chin with the point of his cutlass. “But…this is another lesson you must learn.”

     The Usul drew back, raising his cutlass high. Cavall tried to move but knew deep in his heart he would not be fast enough to avoid the blow. Instead, he scowled, and slowly raised a hand to make a rude gesture he had learned from the Meridell Castle guards.

     Lotham’s face darkened considerably as he brought the sword down. Cavall shut his eyes and braced himself, but the sword reached no part of him. Instead, he heard his mother exclaim, the sound of something – or someone – sprinting onto the pavement. It was followed by the sound of steel upon steel, and he felt someone move near him. Toward him. In front of him.

      Cavall opened his eyes and gasped. The fury burning within him simmered down – but continued to burn, restrained into defiance and relief as he finally struggled to stand up. His knees shook and he was certain one of his ankles wasn’t quite right.

     “This is a family matter,” said Lotham. “Stay out of this.”

     “You were never his family,” Rohane retorted, his broadsword angled perfectly to catch Lotham’s own sword.

     The Royal Usul frowned in disgust and stepped back, readying himself in a battle stance. “Elesia, run.”

     As Elesia scrambled to her feet and ran, Cavall looked from his father to his knight-master, and back again. Each one was searching for openings. Lotham flicked and thrust, but Rohane calmly dodged each strike before responding with an upward crescent that forced Lotham to sidestep. But Lotham was back on the offensive quickly, stabbing with his cutlass.

     “Are you saying you are his family now?” Lotham taunted as he ducked a swipe at his ears. “You, a commoner unfit to wipe the floor Cathton walks on?”

     “Cavall,” the Blue Cybunny corrected through gritted teeth.

     “I’m his knight-master,” said Rohane, and he thrust his broadsword twice toward Lotham’s torso. Lotham blocked both hits, drew back, and grinned mirthlessly before charging forward with a feral roar. The two of them began trading strikes, their blades crashing against each other again and again in various angles, catching the sunlight, holding Cavall in thrall. As he clutched his stomach and steadied his breathing, Cavall watched his father’s wild, angry slashes against Rohane’s cold, almost supernaturally calm rhythm of offense and defense.

     “You’re nothing!” Lotham yelled, and he swung his sword diagonally. Rohane stumbled as he avoided the blow but managed to change his fall into a parry, which in turn knocked Lotham’s cutlass out of his hands.

     Cavall gasped.

     “Well, go ahead. Pick it up.” The White Blumaroo pointed to the fallen sword, his face unreadable. “I’m nothing to you, right?”

     “Are you mocking me?” snarled the Usul. “Is this one of your underhanded tricks?”

     Rohane moved away from the cutlass, raising an eyebrow. “I said, you can pick it up. I heard you’re a master swordsman.”

     Lotham’s face was red both from anger and exertion. Nevertheless, he swept up his cutlass and rushed forward, whacking and slashing as Rohane expertly veered away, blocked one blow, and twisted his blade to snag the cutlass. They were locked in a struggle until Lotham kicked out at his opponent’s legs and disentangled himself before lunging again, sword raised over his head. Rohane whirled around, switched his broadsword and prodded Lotham in the stomach with the hilt. As the lord doubled over, he feebly swung his cutlass, which was wrested from his grip once more. Desperate, he drew back to punch the White Blumaroo, who grabbed his wrist and pinned it and Lotham’s other wrist before forcing the Usul against the ground.

     “Okay, we’ll take it from here.”

     “Sir Jeran!” Cavall exclaimed. The Blue Lupe had arrived, and behind him were a Yellow Lupe and a Striped Kougra, with a Royal Cybunny, a Stealthy Aisha and a Brown Lutari, all of whom were bound with rope. A sneering Speckled Gelert immediately grabbed hold of Lotham and proceeded to tie him up.

     “Let go! Let go of me…I am Lord Lotham Wincott, and none of you have any right – “

     “Oh yes we do,” said the Gelert. “You and Lady Elesia Wincott here have been wanted for years. Smuggling contraband, funding illegal mining operations, ‘disposing’ of some of your old business partners, consorting with bandits and thieves…oh, the magistrates are gonna have a field day.”

     “And,” croaked Cavall, finding his voice again, “destroying my life.”

     Lotham curled his lip contemptuously. “You destroyed it yourself. You doomed us all. Everything we worked so hard for…”

     “Our entire fortune, everything we provided for you…you’ve thrown it all away,” added Elesia.

     Cavall shook his head and answered, “No. You doomed yourselves.”

     “Look on the bright side. You’ll have a new home…in the castle dungeons,” said Rohane, as he slid his broadsword back into its scabbard and went to look over Cavall – injured, dirty, but still in one piece.

     “You’ll pay for this, Sir Rohane,” hissed Lotham as the knights escorted him and Elesia away. “Imagine, tearing a young son away from his parents and his home…”

     “No,” Cavall declared coldly. “I have a new home now, and you were never my parents.”

     Jeran patted Rohane on the shoulder. “Meet you back at the castle. In case there’s anything Cavall wants to…” The Lupe waved a hand at the burned mansion. “Or if you two want to hit a rest stop. Fyora knows he needs it.”

     “Safe travels.” After the White Blumaroo waved off the knights and their prisoners, he staggered as he felt Cavall hug him from behind clumsily, burying his face into his back.

     “Thank you, Sir Rohane,” the Blue Cybunny mumbled. He looked up and added, “You…you saved me.”

     “But you made the choice to lure out your parents so we could catch them and finally bring them to justice.” Rohane extricated himself from Cavall’s grasp so he could embrace his squire properly – and gently. “We should be thanking you. You were very brave – as brave as any full knight. You did what was right…and I’m proud of you.”

     Cavall’s voice caught in his throat, and his eyes began to water. It didn’t take long for him to burst into tears, sobbing and shaking.

     “I was so scared! I was scared to come back here and see my parents again, I was afraid they’d take me far away from you and my friends and everyone else, and my dad…you saw him, he was ready to hurt me, maybe not kill me, but he was going to hit me, and everything came back to me, all his lessons, his punishments…”

     “And you still went through with this plan, didn’t you? Now, it’s all over. Your parents will never, ever hurt you again.”

To be continued…