Shining Light

The horse was exhausted. It trailed behind him, supplies strapped to its saddle, led forwards by a rope in the knight’s hand. He had ridden the horse at first, his thighs navigating the space between twice as many supplies, but the horse could no longer hold him upright.

He returned his horse to the stables, a stableboy promising to look after the fatigued animal. The black-and-white-spotted creature was the knight’s most loyal companion, so he struggled to leave him after many days together. But the castle waited, and within it the queen.

She watched him drag himself into the throne room, the weight of his journey a shadow stretching behind him. She dismissed him, telling him he can report later, telling him to find his squire, to remove his armour, and to have some rest.

He wanted to argue, but he couldn’t disagree with the queen, and not simply because she was royalty. Wisdom painted her smiling cheeks in red and pink, and he couldn’t find the words.

His squire was waiting in the knight’s chambers, knowing his master would be returning soon. The squire had wanted to accompany the knight on his journey, but he had been forbidden. The nature of the adventure had been too difficult and too secret for one with so little training. So, the knight had eaten little, spoken less, and his armour had weighed him down, entirely stripped of its shine.

The squire helped the knight remove the heavy suit, starting with the gauntlets and working up his arms. Detached from his body, each piece of his suit of armour became lifeless, just masses of dark metal. He was what gave the armour purpose.

Food was brought up from the kitchen and the knight sat at his desk in his underclothes. Chunks of properly-cooked meat floating in a buttery broth were a pleasant change from the tough, fire-charred rabbit and venison that he’d eaten during his travels, but he still felt a dull heaviness in his heart.

While he ate, the squire sat cross-legged on the timber floor, a cloth in his smooth hand. He nursed each piece of the knight’s armour in turn, wiping away mud and buffing the silver with polish. Eventually, as the last light of day streamed through the window and found the breastplate, the metal began to glimmer. And the knight’s lightness returned.