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Lucian was wiping the sweat that was on the man’s forehead when his eyes opened again. On instinct the Knight brushed away some of the long greying hair that was in front of his eyes as he focused sharply upon Lucian. They were a deep blue, a symbol that showed the man to be a Nobleman before anything else.
“W-where am I?” The Knight asked as he tried to get up.
Lucian gently placed a hand on the man’s chest as he tried to rise, “Father Albert asked that you do not move, your Lordship. It was Morr’s decision that you stay alive and for that he does not wish to disappoint the god.”
“The… the Priests of Morr?” The Knight put two and two together, “Why did you bring me to them? Why would they heal the living?”
Lucian gave a small shrug of the shoulders, “I asked them to do so. I am your shield, if until the night ends.”
Now that the Peasant could see his face he saw recognition slamming the Knight, “You… you’re the Peasant!”
“I am, your Lordship.” Lucian said with a small nod, “Uh, I hope I am not misunderstanding what you said to me. If not I can leave you.”
“Nay, do not do that.” The firmness in the Knight’s voice was enough to snap Lucian into attention, “I need to know, oh Peasant, how you came to fight like that. Your strength is not of the Peasantry but even the greater nobility. You also have technique, even if it is not refined.”
“Uh, Oh.” Lucian felt a sudden surge of embarrassment as he scratched his head, “I have always been this strong oh Lord. As for how I fight, I cannot tell you. I have always had the scythe since I was a lad.”
“Why did you not flee the battlefield like your fellows?” The interrogation continued with the Knight obviously more curious than anything else.
“If Morr wished for me to die then that is what he wishes, oh Lord.” Lucian answered him simply, “And I could not flee when someone of Nobility has not only failed to command it, but is in the greatest of peril.”
