April

Issue 43

The knight’s squire bowed nearly parallel to the ground as he scrambled into the pavilion and brushed the tent flap closed.

His master was angry.

Thrase could not recall anything he had done wrong. Perhaps the knight’s armor had a spot of dirt on it. Maybe the sword had a scratch, or maybe the horse was not brushed exactly right. Whatever it was, it was serious.
  
Thrase felt Sir Benald’s stern eyes boring into the top of his head.

“Rise,” said the knight.

As Thrase stood, his master’s eyes moved to drill into his chest, as if his master was looking at his heart to find any impurities. Thrase was not allowed to look Sir Benald in the eye, but at least that way he could make sure the breastplate was buffed properly.

“We have encountered a problem,” Sir Benald said...