Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hynce first found out about Henry when he was eight years old.

Having only recently learned how to read, he’d been working his way through every book and manuscript he got his hands on - be it a selection of poems or a manual on horse gear maintenance – with varying success and understanding, but undeniable persistence.

One rainy day, curiosity drove him to foray into his father’s study in search of a reading. He didn’t mean to pry into Father’s private belongings, but while browsing the contents of the bookshelves for an interesting enough work, he came across a prettily painted wooden box and, well, he couldn’t not open it.

And, after seeing that it contained a stack of letters penned undoubtedly by Father’s hand, he was going to close it and return it to its rightful place, genuinely. But then he caught a glimpse of his own name in one of the letters and, well.

He just wanted to take a peek.

The letter was addressed to a Henry and dated from a month prior.

Some of it covered mundane, everyday affairs; who arrived in the castle, who left it, some gossip about people Hynce didn’t know.

Big part of the letter was about Hynce himself though.

“Hynce is truly a natural with a sword. I wish you could see him. Old Bernard seems to have gotten soft with age and praises him in a way I’ve never been praised – at least not to my face. Though, now I’m finally beginning to see things the way my parents and uncle did. If they had been too generous with their praise of my skills, I would have turned out a much worse brat than I did. I wonder if you could bear my presence so easily then?

I do not think that would be a problem with Hynce though. The boy inherited more of his mother’s virtues than my flaws, thank the Lord. He’s obedient and smart, he reads everything he can get his hands on and has an impressive memory. That might yet prove the death of me, because too late did I realize I was sometimes too open around Hyna with my various opinions of this or that so-called nobleman who, coming here, deprives a village somewhere of its idiot. That little devil is picking up everything he hears and repeats it at worst times possible. Right now, it’s easy to laugh it off, especially since he has the face of a cherub, but I fear in a few years’ time, his mouth will get both of us into trouble – is it not amusing, how the tables have turned?”

Then came a paragraph or two about political matters Hynce had little interest in. The letter ended with:

“Time and time again, I wish I had you here with me. We faced so much trouble and turmoil together, why can’t we share times of reprieve from those too? Will it take another war to bring you to me?

God be with you, Henry.

Yours,

Hans”

“Henry” Hynce murmured quietly.

The letter sounded as though it was penned to a close friend, yet Hynce has never heard of a Henry.

And, most importantly – why wasn’t it sent?

The boy leafed through the letters – there were around thirty total, the oldest and most paled with a date from over six year prior.

All started with “My dearest, Henry”. They varied in length – from barely a page to a few of them, filled with tightly packed verses. Sometimes they were written within the span of months, sometimes weeks.

Hynce bit his lip. This was as far as he could go in good conscience; he looked at the letters, he didn’t read them, save for just one. If he were caught, or if Father ever asked, he wouldn’t be able to justify reading through the rest of the... correspondence?

Well, that was not much of correspondence if it wasn’t sent. By the looks of it, they were more like an epistolary log, addressed to a mysterious friend... or someone. It would be even worse if he read that.

Decisive and proud of his conviction, the boy put the letters back inside the box in same the order he found them in, closed the beautifully painted lid and put it back on the shelf. He left his father’s study with a richly illustrated guide to grassland herbs.

He came back a week later.

In these few short days, the mystery of the letters was eating Hynce alive.

Who was Henry? Why has Pa never mentioned him? Why was he still writing letters to him? Why did he never send them?

So, while one day Father went out for a whole day to visit old sir Divish at Talmberg, Hynce slipped into his study and took out the box that had kept him from focusing on anything properly for the entire week.

He read one letter after another, carefully placing them on a pile in the correct order, starting from the oldest ones.

Hynce was delighted to find that the first letter – written when he himself was less than two years old - treated almost entirely of him.

“The little devil is growing fast and getting quite lively too. Thank the Lord he cannot walk all that well yet – I dread the day when he will be capable of freely roaming around on his own two legs. Or, worse, running.

He has a head full of curls the colour of dry hay. We thought his eyes would get lighter in time, but they still remain dark brown, like his mother’s.

Remember how little he was when you first held him and he easily fit in your two hands? Remember how scared we were that Hyna would remain small and scrawny? Well, that is not a concern anymore – that child is outgrowing his clothes almost overnight.

He is not fond of sleeping at all. He drives the nursemaids insane. I sometimes take him with me while walking around the castle. He is the calmest when we visit the stables – and if that is not a sign of him becoming a fine horseman in a few years’ time then I don’t know what is. I shall have to find him a suitable horse soon. I heard some trader recently managed to bring a couple of those short, sturdy wild horses from Masuria – I am told they are mighty tough and strong, if nowhere near as tall as a proper warhorse. Just right for a boy – not too high to fall down from.

I have shown him the sword – I swear his eyes lit up a little bit and it seems to his taste. And I mean it in a quite literal way – he immediately tried to start chewing on it. He is not yet done teething, you see. That is also what makes him so moody.

I wish you were here to see him grow. When you first saw him, you swore him your fealty – that should he ever need aid, you would be there to provide it. A babe cannot possibly grasp the weight of such promise, but a growing boy surely would. I wish he had you by his side – my heart would be at ease if I knew you were there to watch over him if something were to happen to me or his mother.

I miss you, Henry. It has not even been a year since we parted, but it feels like a century at least. Since you left, I feel as though a part of me went with you. Which, I hope, you know is true.

I also hope the letter reached you at least – I hope you read everything I wasn’t able to say. If not, that is alright. I know you understand. You always understood me, sometimes even better than I understood myself.

God be with you, Henry, wherever He chose to lead you.

Yours,

Hans”

Hynce stared at the page. He was right to start from the oldest one.

For one, he learned that Henry a real person – something he hadn’t previously been entirely sure of. He did wonder if it was maybe not a friend at all – perhaps a saint or some patron his father prayed to in a form of a letter.

Not only was Henry an actual person – Hynce met him! Or, well, as much as being held by him as a baby counted as a meeting.

Secondly – Henry was alive. At least, Father thought him alive at the time of writing the letter. That cleared another of Hynce’s doubts – if the letters weren’t written to a deceased friend, a threnody of sorts.

But, apparently, the situation was different – Henry was around until Hynce was a few months old. Then, for whatever reason, he left and Father didn’t know where to find him.

Hynce reread the last few paragraphs.

Father’s words did not seem angry – Hynce doubted whether he and Henry parted on bad terms. It seemed more as though some sad necessity forced the two apart.

What else was there... oh, the sword!

The sword has been hanging proudly on the wall in Hynce’s chamber since forever – Father said it was a gift for his first birthday and that, in time, Hynce would grow into it.

Roughly once a month, the boy dragged the sword off the wall to see if he already possessed the strength and size to wield it yet. Usually, he later needed help to put it back up.

Father mentioning the detail of Hynce trying to bite it truly sounded like an amusing little anecdote one would include in a letter to a friend, fully intending to send it.

Whatever scruples Hynce might have had while walking into the room were gone after reading that one letter. He hurried to read the next one and the next ones after that.

Two things remained constant – the first one were extensive descriptions of Hynce’s milestones as he grew up:

“...Hynce spoke a full sentence today!...”

“...Hyna rode a horse on his own for the first time this week. I knew he would be a natural! As much as one can gather that from watching a boy walk a horse around the paddock a dozen times. But he holds himself as though he was born in a saddle...”

“...His hair is still so bright. And curly! And there’s more and more of it by the day. Walking around the castle, you usually see it before the rest of him shows up. I only wish he were not so averse to brushing it!...”

“...Hynce managed to lift the sword a little today! Any day now, he shall start swinging it around! God help us all!...”

“...Ran into a wall at full speed today and suddenly at least half of his milk teeth are moving. Truly, this child!...”

“...I had a toy bow made for his birthday and almost paid for that decision with my eye as soon as the boy got a hold of it. I am both scared for my life and impressed with his aim...”

The last few sentences were always addressed directly to Henry.

These varied in tone. The oldest ones were full of bitterness and almost angry, while the more recent ones turned resigned and wistful, as though Father grew used to the state of things, still without fully accepting it.

Hynce was so enthralled in the letters, he wouldn’t have noticed if an armed garrison rode horses right to the very door of Father’s study, and later he thanked God in his nightly prayer that Father himself haven’t discovered him either.

For the next few weeks, Henry and the letters occupied his mind, leaving little room for other topics. All his toys lied abandoned in the corner, as he sat looking out the window and imagining what Henry might be up to now and what kind of adventures he and Father shared back in the day, each vision more fantastical than the previous one.

***

Over the next few years, the mystery surrounding Henry grew together with Hynce and accompanied him at all times. Not being able to gather much about the mysterious man from the letters, his main entertainment became filling in the gaps with theories of his own.

Bits and pieces from the letters allowed him to guess that Henry was a master swordsman, so he pictured him as a mighty knight of great stature, donning a shiny armour and wielding a heavy, two-handed sword. He rode a huge warhorse, white as snow, and as fast as wind. He was as tall as Pa, maybe taller, and his shoulders were as wide as the castle gates. His face... well, he had a face, definitely. A knightly one too.

When Hynce was bored or couldn’t sleep at night or got in trouble for one reason or another, he grew accustomed to imagining sir Henry magically appearing and chasing the cause of his troubles away.

He fought off bandits and dragons alike and Hynce liked to make believe Henry was secretly watching his fencing practice or archery training and was impressed by what a fine warrior the boy he’d last seen as a small baby proved to be. Hynce imagined how proud his father would be if he knew Henry could see his achievements.

The fact that he knew close to nothing about Henry, save for how much he meant to Pa, only allowed his imagination to roam all the more free, akin to a horse with reins let loose.

Henry could be anything and everything Hynce hoped he could be. He could be a hero from a foreign land or a knight from a mysterious and secret order; a mere human or a mythical half-giant.

And it was both exciting and disappointing to know that his theories and guesses will never be proven neither right nor wrong. That Henry was to forever remain a legend, a mystery – little more than a figment of Hynce’s imagination.

***

Hynce was twelve when his mother died.

It happened on one of the hunting trips she enjoyed so much. A cheerful party of nobles and soldiers led by Hynce’s parents left early in the morning, while the boy was in his room, suffering from an upset stomach, and came back a few hours later, when Hynce was up and ready to catch up.

Later he learned that while the party was cheering for the first prey of the day – an impressive boar – a second animal, previously unseen, charged out of the bushes at the scattered company; Mother was standing right in its path. She earned a couple of deep gashes before the rest of the hunters managed to subdue it.

The procession that hurried through the gates in Rattay in front of Hynce’s eyes was the stuff of nightmares.

Everyone in panicked disarray, Father covered in blood, supporting Mother barely clinging to consciousness on his saddle. One hound was carried in his master’s arms whining in pain; there were a couple of torn clothes and hastily bandaged wounds.

Hynce remembered the events of the next few days with a feeling of complete detachment, as though all that was happening did not concern him at all – as though he wasn’t even in his own body and merely watched from a distance, like a carnival play on stage.

He saw Father carrying Mother to their room, shouting for a medic. Then Hynce was sitting by his mother’s bed, holding her hand while she assured him everything would be alright. Then, he was being ushered out of the room, one of the servants hugging him to her side.

Then, he was walking in the funeral procession, holding Father’s cold hand. He watched the family tomb, where Mother now rested, decorated with flowers. Father wrapped his arms around Hynce’s shoulders and led him back to the castle for the wake.

Suddenly he was sitting on his bed, staring at the fire dancing in the hearth. He was still wearing his formal clothes.

Someone knocked on the door and after a moment it opened with a creak. Father entered, also still dressed the same as he was for the funeral.

He didn’t say anything, merely perching on the bed next to Hynce and putting an arm around him.

Hynce gratefully leaned against his father’s side. He knew they both experienced a similar feeling; that they should say something yet didn’t know what or how.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep. Hynce woke up under the covers, still in the same clothes, but with his shoes put away neatly by the side of the bed.

Glancing at the window, he realized he woke up at the same time as usual; that despite the fact that his mother was gone, he still woke up at the same time, as though nothing happened.

The next few weeks passed in a similar daze. Hynce wandered the castle like a ghost, responding to greetings, but rarely seeking contact or activity.

A few days after the funeral, his classes resumed and he was actually grateful for something to occupy his time – he assumed this is what Father might have had in mind, having him attend his lessons again. When he struggled with transcribing a poem or defending himself against Captain Bernard’s attacks in the training arena, for a moment he was distracted from the giant hole that his mother’s absence left in his life.

All the time, he expected the pain to finally break the numbness; to crash into him like a charging horse, as the realization settled in.

But nothing of the sort happened. All he felt was emptiness – both inside and around him, in the place Mother was supposed to be.

He noticed Pa’s concerned glances cast his way, but neither he nor Hynce had any illusions regarding the answers he might have. Hynce didn’t mind; he wouldn’t even be able to say what he wanted to hear from his father.

A month and a half after the funeral, Hynce’s legs carried him to his father’s study on their own and the boy realized how long it’s been since he last checked the box for new letters.

The letters... He almost forgot about them.

That finally sparked a bit of interest in him. He hadn’t thought about Henry since Mother died; imaginary friend was of little help against real grief. But now, he suddenly felt the need to read the letters once more.

So he entered the room and with great surprise found his father sitting by the desk. In his own study.

Ah. Hynce was so overcome with the thought of getting his hands on the letters that he forgot to make sure Pa was occupied somewhere else.

Father looked up at him from the desk and didn’t even scold the boy for entering without knocking. Instead, he smiled happily, as though nothing could delight him more than Hynce barging into his study and interrupting his work.

“How are you, little chick?” he asked “Did you need anything? A book?”

“Uh...” Hynce hesitated “Yup. I mean, no. I just... Wanted to see you?”

“Oh?” Father turned fully towards him, his smile growing a bit worried.

Hynce walked to stand in front of him. When Pa was sitting, Hynce was already a couple of fingers taller than him.

“I guess I just wanted to ask how you are doing” Hynce lied bravely.

“Me?” Father blinked.

“Uhm”

The man breathed a quiet laughter.

“I should be asking you that” he said, reaching out to take Hynce’s hands “You don’t talk much these days and I don’t even know how you are holding up. I should... I should be asking you that. I’m sorry I didn’t”

“It’s fine” Hynce murmured, squeezing Father’s hands.

They fell quiet for a few moments.

“She was very proud of you, you know that, right?” Father said finally “She loved you so much and knew you’d grow into a fine young man. So do I”

“I know” Hynce murmured “I just...”

What was he going to say? That he missed her, but in the same way he used to when she went on a long trip to visit friends or relatives? He missed her as though he expected her to come back tomorrow or the day after at the latest?

Father must have realized Hynce wasn’t going to finish the sentence and didn’t push. Instead, he pulled Hynce into a tight hug, which the boy graciously accepted.

As he rested his head on Father’s shoulder, his eyes caught sight of the page lying on top of the desk, almost entirely covered in text.

Hynce’s eyes darted to the very top of the page.

“My dearest, Henry...”

The verses below were packed too tightly for Hynce to make out and before he could even try, Father released him from the hug and held him at an arm’s length.

“You have grown so pale these past few weeks” he said quietly “The weather is so nice, you shouldn’t stay indoors all the time”

Hynce looked aside. How was he supposed to explain that he found it almost insulting how spring made itself at home, causing everything to bloom and come to life, while his world was shattered. How could the skies not weep for Mother? How could the flowers blossom as though nothing happened?

“What say, we go for a ride tomorrow, you and I?” Father asked “We could ask for some food to be prepared, have a picnic? Maybe drop by Neuhof to look at the foals?”

“That sounds great” Hynce smiled.

A few months ago, that would sound like the best day possible. Now, he only felt mildly enthusiastic at best.

“It’s a deal then” Father smiled.

Hynce nodded and bid him goodbye, casting one last glance at the letter.

***

Normally, he’d wait until an opportune moment, when Father was busy somewhere else, preferably outside the castle, but this time Hynce felt he couldn’t postpone reading the letter. As though it would contain some answers. As though it was Henry who spoke through it, not Father and as though his words had a power that could somehow make things better.

So, for the first time ever, Hynce snuck into Father’s study at night. The secrecy of it all – the need to tiptoe around the castle and conceal the light of his candle – excited and pleased him; Hynce felt as though he was a hero in a story, sneaking around on a dangerous mission requiring utmost stealth and skill.

The letter was no longer on the desk, so Hynce headed directly for the painted box. His heart pounded madly when he opened it and there it was! A letter, dated for today.

“My dearest, Henry,

Jitka passed away a few weeks ago.

I wish I could say it was a peaceful death, but instead she went down like a warrior.

I mourn for her in a way I had not thought myself capable of, certainly not all those years ago when I was given news of our engagement.

There was a brief time I wrongfully resented her for being chosen as my wife, as though it was her fault somehow. Be at ease. I am not a perfect man, but I can swear I never acted on those lowly feelings and attempted to treat her at least decently, which proved easier than I had thought.

If things were different, I think I could have loved her in a way she deserved and maybe hoped for when thinking of future marriage, but even without that I truly feel we both became more content with our relationship in time.

She had desired this union no more than I did and that, ironically, became our common ground and a source of understanding. We had no illusions for prospects of romantic love, which gave us a lot of freedom, in a way, not placing any expectations on one another. In the end, I think I can say we became good friends, good partners and good parents for Hynce.

Being able to love him and care for him together with Jitka gave me more happiness than I thought was within my reach when I first learned I was to share a life with a woman I hadn’t met, let alone loved.

And now, she is gone. And I feel that loss more acutely than I had expected. I suppose, it would be hard not to, having shared a life for twelve years.

I shall try not to pity myself too much, but you always had an abundance of patience for me, so here I feel entitled to pour out all my woes. I am overcome with unfairness of it all. First I lose you, then Uncle, now her. And for what?

All that is keeping me afloat is the awareness that this time I was not the only one to lose someone dear. Hynce lost his mother and, Hal, I have no idea how to help him.

How can I assure him that, in time, the pain dulls, things get better and more people who will love him shall come into his life, when all I can feel is how it all leads to more loss and pain?

He is a smart lad and a sensitive one too. When he looks at me with her eyes, I know every comforting lie and platitude I could provide him with would be seen through immediately.

Time and time again, I wish I had you by my side. Now not only for myself, but for the boy.

Jitka was everything a child could hope for in a mother and now all Hynce has is me. I don’t want to fail him.

I do not think I ever needed you more than now, Hal. I bet you would know what to say, how to help him, how to show him that there is a point in all of this. You were always better with words than me.

But, alas, I am not the selfish, spoiled brat I once was, believe it or not. I would no longer permit myself to ask you to drop everything and come to my aid. Wherever you are, I hope you have a life you are happy with, and a lovely wife, and a beautiful house, full of kids and Mutt’s puppies.

I hope we will see each other again someday, if not in this life, then the next one and drink to the old days. Maybe a Sylvan Red?

If I could have one last wish to come true before I bite the dust, it is for you to see Hynce wield the sword you gifted him. So you know they are worth one another.

Yours,

Hans”

Hynce was kneeling motionless on the floor, its coldness seeping through his nightshirt.

He allowed himself a second to acknowledge that maybe this was the one letter he shouldn’t have read.

Alas, Hynce shrugged, the harm is done.

He ran his eyes through the text once more.

Hynce felt sorry seeing how scared Father was of failing him and struggling to help. If he could, he’d go straight to Pa’s room to tell him that it’s alright; that Hynce knows he is doing his best. But... he wasn’t yet ready to come clean about poking his nose into Pa’s affairs.

Finally... Henry.

How could he not be here if Pa needed him so badly?! How could he not realize how much Pa missed him?! What could have kept him away for so long, without giving a sign of life?!

The thought of finding Henry has crossed Hynce’s head multiple times in the past, of course it did, but it struck him as looking for a needle in a haystack. He could go around asking after a Henry who used to be Pa’s close friend a decade prior, but if even Father didn’t know where to find him, how could anyone else?

But now... Now Hynce received a piece of the puzzle that might allow him to start tracking down Henry.

The sword. His sword – the weapon he looked at every day and even managed to wield with more and more ease. He hadn’t known it was a gift from Henry.

That fact brought him some odd satisfaction and Hynce smiled.

Henry gifted him a sword. He didn’t even know Hynce – he knew he’d never have a chance to, and he gave him a sword.

Such a gift had to be custom made – Henry had to commission it at a master blacksmith. It could have been sent straight from his workshop to Rattay, but Hynce doubted a man would let such a valuable gift be sent straight to the recipient without first examining it himself. Which meant, if Hynce found the blacksmith who made the sword, he might know where to look for Henry.

Hynce’s enthusiasm dulled slightly when he realized that there were hundreds of blacksmiths across the kingdom, each one as probable a choice as the next one.

Well, he’d have to start somewhere – first, he’ll go to the local blacksmith in Rattay – perhaps he’ll be able to learn something from the sword – some mark only recognizable to those dealing in blacksmith’s trade or... or something like that.

The excitement that had faded a moment ago reappeared, as Hynce finally had a clear goal ahead.

Find the blacksmith. And find Henry. And get him to come back to Pa.

His plan didn’t go further than that. Finding the mysterious friend was already such a fantastical goal, so improbable that anything seemed possible if it was achieved – even the idea that, somehow, after finding Henry, things will be alright once more.

“We need you, Henry” Hynce murmured towards the letter “And I will bring you home”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Hynce inhaled his breakfast even before most of the castle inhabitants arrived at the dining hall. He flew to his room and grabbed the sword from the wall, almost losing his balance under its weight – which wasn’t that significant anymore. He could carry the sword with no effort. Using it in combat, well... he still had time to get there.

He arrived at the blacksmith’s workshop even before the blacksmith himself showed up, yawning and clearly not expecting an impatient twelve year old awaiting him by the bellows.

“What can you tell me about this sword?” Hynce asked as soon as the man greeted him.

The blacksmith took the weapon, examining it from the tip of the blade to the engraved pommel.

“A well-made weapon, that’s for certain” he said.

“Could you have made it?” Hynce asked.

“No, definitely not. I never forget a blade that leaves my forge and that is not one of them”

“Do you perhaps recognize who could have forged it?” the boy insisted.

The blacksmith was shaking his head even before Hynce finished his question.

“Very few masters have a style recognizable enough to be able to say for certain” he said “Whoever made that sword is good, but not one of those. He left no mark either”

“Oh” Hynce sighed.

“Perhaps the owner of the sword would know” the blacksmith suggested, handing Hynce the weapon back “He had to have it ordered somewhere”

“I’m the owner of the sword” Hynce said proudly “It was a gift for my second birthday”

“Second birthday?...I see”

“So... there is no way of knowing who made it?” Hynce asked.

“My apologies, young sir” the blacksmith bowed his head.

Ah. There went his only thread that could lead him to Henry. Now, all that Hynce could do was to just... walk around blindly, asking after a man who might no longer even be within the borders of Bohemia. Or alive.

He was heading out of the forge, defeated, when the blacksmith called after him. Hynce turned around, trying not to feel too hopeful.

“The blade itself, I cannot say who made it” the man said “But it is not uncommon for us to commission artisans to engrave the handles”

“Artisans?” Hynce repeated, examining the sword once more.

It never occurred to him to consider the handle a separate part from the rest of the sword. It was most intricately decorated indeed, though not crossing the border of tasteful. Ornamental, but perfectly legible letters formed simple words “Be brave”, surrounded by a wreath of feathers.

“Aye, artisans” the blacksmith nodded “If the blacksmith who made this sword has his forge anywhere in the region, he was bound to send it to Sasau”

“Sasau?” Hynce asked lively.

He went there with Mother once, though he remembered little of it, save for how impressed he was by the grandeur of the monastery.

“The engravers there are true masters of their craft” the blacksmith nodded “I would wager my second best pair of pliers that it was them who worked on that handle. And, if so, they might have a record on whom it was commissioned by”

“Thank you!” Hynce exclaimed, even before the man finished speaking “It’s... thank you!”

And he ran out of the forge.

To Sasau. He had to get to Sasau.

Father won’t let him go on his own, though; it was way too far. How will he explain his sudden need for guards to accompany him all the way to Sasau? And will Pa even-...

“Hyna!”

Hynce stopped abruptly, almost losing his balance and dropping the sword.

Father was walking towards him with a concerned expression.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you” he said “You weren’t in the dining hall or in your room...”

“I ate earlier” Hynce said, slightly breathless.

“I see” Father tilted his head “And the sword?”

“The sword?”

“Did you take it out for a walk?”

“The sword is... I took it to the blacksmith” Hynce said “To... to have it sharpened”

“Oh?” Father smirked “I didn’t know it sustained this much damage hanging on the wall”

“Yup. Just, you know. In case I need it sharp” Hynce replied, shifting on his feet “You never know when you’ll need it”

“Alright, suit yourself” Father shrugged “Ready?”

“Ready... for..?”

“Our trip? To Neuhof?”

“What if we went to Sasau instead?” Hynce blurted before thinking.

“Sasau?”

“Yes. Can we go there? I... I really need to go to Sasau” Hynce said, staring at his father intently, hoping to convey the necessity without words and skip the uncomfortable questions.

“Little one, that is a bit far” Father replied “Half a day to get there and again that long to get back. Why do you need to go there?”

“It’s a secret”

“A secret?”

“A surprise” Hynce corrected himself quickly.

“Well, can’t your ‘surprise’ be somewhere closer?” Father asked.

“No, it... It has to be in Sasau”

The man sighed.

“Well... I can’t spare the whole day for that trip, but I can ask Bernard to have some men go with you. Tomorrow, and you’d have to leave early in the morning and be back before dusk, understand?”

“Yes. Yes! Thank you!”

“You won’t have much time to spare in Sasau and when whoever is in charge says it’s time to depart, you listen to him, is that clear?”

“Crystal clear!” Hynce nodded eagerly.

Father studied his face for a few moments and whatever he found made his frown ease a bit.

“Alright then” he said.

“I still want to go to Neuhof with you though!” Hynce said, stepping forward to grab his father’s hand.

“Well, I’m glad that you’re not too busy to spare a few hours for your old father yet” the man said, closing his fingers around Hynce’s hand and leading him towards the stables.

“You’re not old!” the boy protested.

It was as much a wish as it was truth. An old person in Hynce’s mind was white-haired and frail and Pa was neither. His hair was as golden as they’ve always been and he was as far from frail as possible. Though not as broad-shouldered or massive as some of the soldiers, he was still strong and agile, which he routinely proved, duelling with his men or taking part in the tourneys as a guest of honour.

Father was still quite young, but every once in a while his eyes harboured a sadness and fatigue of a man twice his age, and Hynce knew only some of it could be attributed to their recent loss.

I will bring him here, just you wait. Henry will come back and you will smile again.

And maybe bringing back Father’s light would brighten the black hole in Hynce’s heart as well.

***

The spring sun warmed Hynce’s face in a way that reminded him how little time he spent outside since Mother’s death.

Father allowed him to lead the way to Neuhof, which forced Hynce to focus on nothing but watching the road and leading his horse and, for a while, the only thing in his mind were the fluid movements of his steed and the wind against his skin; he could ride like this forever.

Later, as they sat in the grass, munching on the provisions the cook had provided them with and letting the horses nibble on grass, Hynce briefly wondered what would happen if he told Pa about his search for Henry.

Would he be proud of him? Surprised at how resourceful Hynce proved to be? Hopeful to see his old friend again?

Obviously, that would have to be followed by the admission that he read the letters and Hynce had enough sense to know that was a transgression difficult to justify.

Unless, of course, he managed to find Henry.

Then, Pa will surely be happy enough to forgive him.

Hynce smiled, imagining how he’ll recount his entire investigation to Father, explaining to him how, all by himself, he found the man that had been both present and missing in their lives for the past decade.

“You’re in a good mood today” Father remarked “I haven’t seen you smile in a while”

Hynce shrugged, not bothering to hide his smile.

How was he to explain the sudden hope that the prospect of finding the mysterious Henry gave him? Or the newfound sense of purpose that his self-appointed mission gave him?

“It’s a nice day” he said, deciding that it’s close enough to the truth.

“It is, isn’t it?” Father said, tilting his face towards the sun.

Hynce scooted closer to the man, resting against his side.

“Everything will be alright” Father said quietly “Eventually”

The boy nodded and suddenly felt that the beauty of the day and the tranquillity of the moment is making his throat clench and his eyes sting.

She should be here too.

***

Hynce pretended not to notice when the four soldiers exchanged exasperated looks as he cut their stop in Ledetchko considerably shorter than it needed to be.

Michal, the eldest of the four and the one formally in charge of the expedition had to slow Hynce down all the way from Rattay so that he didn’t tire the horses before they got even halfway to Sasau.

Hynce knew he couldn’t just gallop all the way there, and that, all in all, a moderate trot is more efficient in the long run, but he was trembling with nervous energy and his horse, a stocky, dark thing by the name of Bohun, sensed it, trying to race ahead any time he sensed an opportunity.

Hynce didn’t mind the soldiers’ discontent, as long as they got moving at last, for God’s sake. He was aware they saw this trip as a random whim of a grief-stricken spoiled noble boy, but he didn’t care. The sense of mission driving him forward made up for how ridiculous he knew he looked in the eyes of others.

They arrived in Sasau just past noon.

“Well. Where to, master Hynce?” Michal asked.

“Uh. Wherever I can find the master engraver” Hynce shrugged “Should we ask?”

“No need” the soldier shook his head “As far as I recall, they have a workshop by the monastery, across the river”

Across the river they went. A short distance away from the bridge they found a tavern, where they stopped to feed the horses and give them water. The unlucky soldier who lost a coin toss was delegated to go with Hynce to the engravers.

“There is no need, truly” Henry said, now finally embarrassed. It was obvious that all the man wanted to do was to take the load off his feet for a bit and drink a cold beer with his companions.

“I will not be the one to tell sir Hans we let you go unattended for even so much as an ell” Michal said “He’d have our heads if you ended up with the tiniest bruise”

“I...” Hynce sighed and shook his head.

So, while the three men sat comfortably around the table shouting for food and drink, Hynce took his sword and the uncomfortable soldier and walked the dusty road towards the monastery.

They passed its impressive walls, turning to what appeared to be a large courtyard. Hynce heard the familiar clanging of the blacksmith’s hammer and saw a man in flour-powdered apron carrying a large sack on his shoulder. The buildings around the courtyard seemed to host all sorts of craftsmen.

A passing woman told Hynce where to find the engravers’ workshop, before being pulled into conversation by the soldier.

Happy that he left the poor man in a company more desired than his own, Hynce hurried to where he’d been directed to. He pushed open the door leading to a dark, spacious room, seemingly taking up the entirety of the ground floor.

Hynce waited for his eyes to get used to the dark and when they did, he found the room empty. Of people, at least, since a lot of its space was taken up by shelves, crates and chests.

“Hello?” he called.

“Up here!” a voice answered and Hynce needed a moment to realize that the building had an upper floor as well.

After finally locating the rickety stairs, he climbed up, holding the sword precariously in both hands.

The upper floor was brighter, yet just as cluttered. A couple of desks were squeezed into the space, one occupied by a man so  engrossed in his work that he didn’t even look up when Hynce entered. The second man present in the room turned to look at him. He appeared to be about Father’s age, with a bush of brown hair and a short beard.

“God be with you, young sir” he spoke “Is there anything we can help you with?”

“Are you the master engraver?” Hynce asked, approaching the man.

“Indeed I am. The name is Florian”

“I’m Hynce Capon of Pirkstein” the boy said “I was told you might have been the one who worked on this”

He extended his sword towards the engraver, handle first. The man touched the hilt with the tips of his fingers, tilting it towards the light; his face brightened up in a smile momentarily.

“Indeed! That is my work, I remember” he said.

“Truly?!” Hynce asked breathlessly, feeling his heart start pounding madly “Do you... do you remember who it was for?”

“Naturally” the engraver nodded “It was commissioned by Henry of Skalitz, a friend. A long time ago he helped me out of a truly unpleasant situation. I owed him a debt I can never repay, yet he refused to let me do the work for free...”

“Henry of Skalitz...” Hynce repeated in awe.

Just two more words and suddenly the possibility of finding Henry became all the more tangible.

“Yes. Frankly, I think I should have insisted more” Florian said, scratching his beard “If it hadn’t been for him, I might have lost the woman who is now my wife and I myself might have ended up at the pillory”

Incredible, that so far from home – and, apparently, Skalitz – Hynce could still find traces of Henry’s brave deeds, which only gave more basis for all his theories about him. What kind of person did he have to be if even a random craftsman in Sasau knew his name?

Hynce was delighted to find this small snippet of information, picking it up and storing it away with all the other little details that made up an image of Henry.

Henry and Pa used to be friends. Henry was supposed to stay by Pa’s side for good, watching Hynce grow and taking care of him too. Henry was a master swordsman and, as Pa put it, good with words. Henry used to have a dog.

And he was well enough not only to commission a blacksmith to make a sword specifically for him, but also to have the handle engraved by artisans. And all those years ago, apparently he was involved in some adventure rescuing the engraver and the lady of his heart.

Henry of Skalitz.

Soon after Hynce and the soldier rejoined the rest of the group at the tavern, Michal called for departure. This time, Hynce was more than happy with the moderate pace, which allowed him to let his imagination roam free.

Skalitz, Skalitz... As far as he remembered, the place was taken care of by old sir Radzig, who started rebuilding it a few years ago after the village had been burned to the ground in an attack that took place before Hynce was born. So, it would stand to reason if Henry was a knight in sir Radzig’s service!

How could he be so close – well, close-ish – to Rattay and not contact Pa?!

For the hundredth time Hynce racked his brains for a plausible explanation of Pa and Henry’s parting.

Father wouldn’t be writing letters like that if they fell apart arguing. But it would explain why he never sought direct contact.

Any other possible justification – Henry leaving to fight elsewhere or follow sir Radzig or even move to Skalitz to set up a family – didn’t explain why, through all these years, despite how close they used to be and how much Pa missed his friend, Henry never set foot in Rattay again.

As per Father’s order, the company made it back to Rattay before the sun began to set and Hynce felt almost bad, seeing Pa’s worried expression lighten up in relief at the sight of him. He supposed Pa spent the entire day concerned for him, despite the way to Sasau being relatively safe.

Hynce hated to cause his father more anguish than he already suffered, but it was all for a greater cause.

He wondered how Pa would react if Hynce told him he knew where to find Henry. Would that put a genuine smile on his face once more?

But Hynce resisted the temptation. The job was not done yet; there were still too many unknowns. He will not reveal anything until he can bring Henry to Father himself.

(Maybe then Pa will be too happy to be angry about the letters?)

***

In the evening, when Hynce lied in his bed, feeling his eyelids grow heavy from all the fatigue and excitement of the day, he watched the dying light of the fireplace dance on the blade of the sword, back in its honorary place on the wall.

Hynce felt uplifted by the awareness that out there somewhere, there is a brave knight, a faceless guardian who would aid him in times of trouble, if he can only find him.

Henry of Skalitz. I’m coming for you.

Chapter Text

For the next few days, Hynce’s mind was occupied solely by plans of his upcoming journey.

Having thought it through carefully, he decided that this final part of his quest, he shall have to face alone.

If he had a fellowship of valiant and faithful companions, with various skills and backgrounds, then, for certain, that would be an adequate entourage for a hero’s journey. But he didn’t. And he wasn’t going to go looking for Henry of Skalitz in the grumpy company of assigned soldiers, insisting on stopping more often than needed and giving Hynce a stinky eye when he grew impatient.

Besides... this last journey would have to be kept secret. Hynce couldn’t very well make up a believable excuse for why he needed to go to Skalitz of all places and so soon after his trip to Sasau, which Pa barely even agreed to.

He decided to give himself a week for planning and preparations, all the time dutifully attending his classes, not to make it seem as though anything was out of the ordinary.

Digging through the contents of the library he managed to find a map that showed both Skalitz and Rattay, which he figured might prove useful should he grow doubtful about his directions. Hynce judged it would take him about two, maybe three hours to get to Skalitz, but, just to be on the safe side, he should pack some provisions for the road and leave early.

The way to Skalitz didn’t seem too complicated. Hynce went on trips as far as Ledetchko a couple of times for fairs and celebrations, so he figured he’d have no trouble getting there. Then, he’d just need to ride along the river to Rovna, and then head north. Simple.

If he got lost, there would surely be other travellers on the road, willing to point the way, but that probably won’t be necessary.

The afternoon before his planned trip, Hynce rode out through the lower gate, claiming he just wanted to get his horse some exercise and promising not to cross the river. With a pleading look and a couple of groschen, he convinced the owner of the nearby bathhouse to let him leave his steed in one of the bathhouse’s stalls, having made up a story about a couple of horses at the castle’s stables suffering from strangles and him wanting to keep his horse away from them for a while.

Taking the path around Rattay, he returned though the Upper Gate, proud beyond words with how he carried out his scheme. He didn’t suppose anyone will notice his horse’s absence at night and by the time Hynce and Bohun will be found missing, he will have made a considerable distance already.

Him sneaking into the kitchen was nothing unusual, so obtaining some bread and cheese and cold meat was no issue, neither was filling his waterskin.

Having packed all the provisions and some money, Hynce waited until late at night to procure one last thing he wanted to take.

He’d been battling with himself for a while over this issue, but finally Hynce decided that the end justifies the means – he needed to bring Henry home at whatever cost and to do that, he might need arguments stronger than his own words.

So, after making sure Father is asleep in his bedroom, Hynce snuck into his study to take the letters. He took them all, wrapping them safely in oilskin and storing them away in his satchel.

It’s all for Pa, he told himself. He won’t be mad if everything turns out as planned.

***

Nothing turned out as planned.

Save for the beginning of the journey, maybe.

Hynce was so excited it was a miracle he got even a wink of sleep, before the same excitement woke him up long before dawn.

Having gathered his luggage, he left the castle, making sure not to be recognized, but not concealing his exit either. Just a regular Rattay citizen, leaving the castle at an ungodly hour indeed.

He retrieved Bohun from the bathhouse stalls, unobstructed, and set off, his whole body tingling with anticipation of the adventure to come.

“Audentes fortuna iuvat” he whispered as he kicked his horse into gallop as soon as they crossed the wooden bridge across Sazava.

He made sure to ride at a reasonable pace, keeping mainly to a trot and then slowing down to a walk for a bit to let his horse rest. Minding that he needed to save Bohun’s strength, he only allowed himself a short gallop once or twice, before they reached Ledetchko.

What would Ma say if she saw him now? She’d be worried, for sure, but she’d never been a fearful woman – Hynce reckoned she’s be proud of how capable and independent Hynce had become, setting off on his own like that. Surely.

The sun was already well above the horizon, quickly waking up the earth and chasing the morning chill away from Hynce’s body. He breathed in the smell of the fresh morning, admiring the mists still hanging above the meadows. Yup. A proper scenery for a hero’s journey.

He made a stop by the river in Ledetchko, letting his horse drink for a bit, quickly eating a light breakfast as well.

As far as his judgement went, he made pretty good time and also, he didn’t need to use the map even once so far, which encouraged him a lot. Hynce bathed in the awareness that he’d just rode on his very own farther than ever before and all in secret.

He wondered if his absence was discovered yet and decided not to push his luck, tightening Bohun’s girth again and moving on.

Naturally, he took proper precautions to delay the discovery of his disappearance. He piled some pillows under the quilt, to make it seem as though he was still asleep in there, which, he hoped, would work for a bit to discourage the servants from interrupting him too early, before someone decided enough is enough.

He also left a letter on one of the pillows. It read “I will be back soon, do not worry. Hynce”. It was about as much as he could write without disclosing his destination and Hynce had no illusions that it would actually discourage people from searching for him. However, hopefully, it would ease Pa’s mind at least – so he knows Hynce wasn’t abducted or something.

His luck started running out about an hour after leaving Ledetchko. So far, Hynce followed the road by the river – a convenient enough landmark.

But it soon turned out that the road was abundant in smaller trails and paths, much more numerous than the map indicated and Hynce quickly began growing doubtful whether he chose the right ones.

Fortune smiled upon him one last time when, just as he was about to turn back and take the path he previously regarded as too insignificant to be the right trail, he saw buildings in the distance.

As he confirmed with the first person he saw, he managed to reach Merhojed.

That lifted his spirits a bit, though another issue was already on the horizon. Or, rather, higher above it than Hynce had anticipated – the sun has already passed its midday zenith, by which time he’d expected to already be in Skalitz. Meanwhile, he still had a long way to go.

Turning back wasn’t an option, naturally – not only was he roughly halfway between Rattay and his destination, but also, turning back meant facing Pa’s anger with nothing to show for.

He had no choice but to soldier on, regardless of the doubts that started clouding his mind. Hynce steeled his heart, carefully studied the map and took off from Merhojed, eating the remainder of his provisions in the saddle.

That was another one of his misjudgements – he vastly underestimated the amount of food he’d need. And now that he rode some distance away from Merhojed, it didn’t even make sense to ride back for supplies.

Never mind, I just need to get to Skalitz. Everything will be alright if I can just reach Skalitz.

Hynce could swear the more he struggled with reading the map, the faster time was passing. It was far from getting dark yet, but the woods that a few hours prior would prove pleasantly shady and cool, now became dusky and chilling and he remembered he didn’t bring any source of light for the road.

The highways weren’t as busy with travellers as he’d expected – after leaving Merhojed, Hynce only encountered two and by the second time, he was no longer too proud to admit he wasn’t too certain of his direction.

The wayfarer’s advice saved him from taking a wrong turn, so now Hynce knew he was going in the right direction, at least generally.

His stomach started growling in hunger and that was when Hynce became anxious for good.

He had no light, no food and little water. He was alone and soon his horse would start growing tired. He was supposed to be in Skalitz ages ago – so he planned!

Suddenly, all the stories of travellers mugged on the road resurfaced in his mind.

He knew Father, Lady Stephanie and sir Radzig made efforts to keep the roads safe, but one could never be certain that danger was no longer present – especially so far from either’s domain. And Hynce was armed, sure, but he’d be painfully outnumbered should any trouble arise.

Forget bandits – what about wild animals? It was one thing to go hunting for hares or deer with Pa during the day – it was entirely another matter to find oneself alone in the forest at night with only his shortsword to defend himself with.

Sudden fear of dusk catching him in the forest caused Hynce to speed up his horse into a frantic gallop to reach the open space of the fields and meadows faster.

The day wasn’t as dark, with no foliage to obscure the sunlight, but it was still well past mid-afternoon already and Hynce felt foolish for believing that he’d be able to make the whole trip there and back again before dusk.

He... he felt foolish in general.

What had he been thinking? He’d never been so far from home on his own before, he was ill-prepared, inexperienced and had completely irrelevant notions of how such a trip would go.

Hynce slowed his horse down to a walk and took the map out once more, desperately trying to establish his whereabouts.

He’d just rode through the forest... so he seemed to be on the right path. But has he passed that crossroads already? No, he would have noticed it. Or not? How old was the map anyway? If a road became unused and overgrown with weeds and grasses, that could turn a crossroads into something else entirely! Or a new path might emerge somewhere it shouldn’t have been!

What about that small path he passed just a moment ago? Was that enough of a trail to be put on a map? If so, he’d already ridden too far...

Hynce noticed his hands were shaking.

“Stay calm” he told himself, his voice coming out much weaker than he wanted it to “It is no use to panic”

But as he rode and rode, the anticipated crossroads still nowhere to be found, panic started to take over, use or no use.

What was he thinking? What was he even thinking?! He set off in search of a man who may no longer be alive or around. A man he has never seen before in his life, not really – a figure that was made up of words on paper and his own imaginations. Henry might not even remember him, let alone wish to help him.

Henry of Skalitz... Why did he convince himself that of Skalitz meant he’s still in Skalitz? How did he manage to fool himself into believing he could find a man that disappeared over a decade ago?

Father surely did everything he could to find Henry – and Hynce was stupid enough to think he could succeed where Father didn’t.

And all that for what?

In pursuit of some fleeting sense of comfort and purpose he might as well run himself straight to his demise. He should have let Henry remain words on paper – a mysterious hero he could imagine and shape into whatever he needed.

Hynce stopped his horse.

Brining Henry back wouldn’t bring back Mother anyway.

Nothing would.

That was the last straw; Hynce burst into tears.

He wanted Mother. He wanted Father. He would even be happy to see Captain Bernard’s displeased face right now. He wanted to be back home, safe and sound. And warm. When did it start getting cold?

Hynce didn’t hold back his weeping – no one could hear him anyway.

He was terribly and completely alone.

Or so he thought, until the sound of hoofbeats approaching from behind became close enough that it could be heard over the sound of his weeping.

Hynce looked up as the horse passed him at a slow trot and then stopped. The boy quickly rubbed at his eyes, to clear his vision as much as to get rid of the evidence of his crying.

He had to raise his head to have a better look at the rider, his steed being much taller than Hynce’s. The man had a tanned face, a few days’ stubble and brown hair ruffled from the wind and washy from the sun.

His clothes were simple travelling garments, well-worn and a bit dirty, but of good quality. Definately not the kind worn by a nobleman, but rather a well-off commoner on a long journey, judging from the packed saddlebags. A blue pair of wide-set eyes regarded Hynce curiously from the shadow of a prominent brow ridge.

The man nudged his horse to take a few steps towards Hynce. Dusty from the road as he was, he didn’t look like a ruffian, but just in case Hynce took hold of his shortsword, ready to bring it out in an instant.

It didn’t escape the stranger’s notice, because he halted his horse, holding both of his hands up to prove them empty.

“I didn’t mean to scare you” he spoke.

“I’m not scared” Hynce replied, irritated to notice that his nose was all stuffed from the crying. Probably red too.

“Is something the matter?” the man asked “I couldn’t help but notice you look a bit...”

Hynce lifted his chin proudly, the effect possibly ruined by the fact that he had to quickly wipe his nose with his sleeve.

“...lost” the man finished.

“I... am not lost” Hynce said “I’m on my way to Skalitz”

“Skalitz?” the stranger raised his thick eyebrows “In that case you’re clearly... erm, taking the scenic route, I suppose”

Hynce pursed his lips.

“I might have taken a wrong turn” he admitted reluctantly.

The man nudged his horse a few steps forward.

“Aren’t you a bit too young to be travelling on your own?” he asked “Where are your parents? Did they send you off all alone?”

“My mother’s dead” Hynce said, as though it mattered at the moment.

He realized it was the first time he said it out loud. And to some stranger on the road of all people.

The man bowed his head.

“I’m sorry to hear that” he said quietly “And what of your father?”

“I...” Hynce looked away “I left without telling him”

“He must be worried sick then” the man said lively “Where is your home? Is there someone waiting for you in Skalitz?”

“Yes!... No” Hynce shook his head “I don’t know anymore”

“A relative? A friend?” the man asked.

Hynce pursed his lips once more.

The mere thought of sharing the entire story with this man made him cringe. His endeavour really seemed more and more idiotic by the minute and he wasn’t about to embarrass himself even further in front of the stranger.

The man cleared his throat.

“Well then” he said “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your trip, the countryside being so lovely and all, however, your steed seems quite tired, so I’d like to humbly offer my company on the shortest way to Skalitz”

“You’re heading to Skalitz too?” Hynce asked.

“Indeed”

“Oh. Then, I suppose, we can travel together” the boy said “My horse is getting quite weary”

“It is no easy task to tire one of these little guys” the stranger remarked as they started moving at a slow trot “Young sir must have been on the road for quite a while”

Hynce let out a non-committal hum.

His companion must have realized that any questions regarding Hynce’s journey would be met with vague answers or silence (Hynce was too tired to make up convincing lies) so instead he made conversation on neutral topics.

He was easy to talk to and seemed to have an abundance of stories to share; clearly a seasoned wayfarer, who visited many places and listened to many a bard’s tale.

They arrived in Skalitz as the sky started turning pink and Hynce dreaded to think what kind of uproar Rattay was in after his absence stretched for so long.

Pa might have sent messengers to neighbouring settlements and though Hynce assumed Skalitz was too far to receive one of those, he’d rather stay out of sir Radzig’s sight for a while still.

Because, as they rode through Skalitz and Hynce regained his peace of mind a little bit, so too did the notion to find Henry return.

In the morning, he thought. Tomorrow, I’ll search for Henry and ask sir Radzig to send a message to Pa so he doesn’t worry anymore.

“Well, is there someone waiting to receive you?” Hynce’s companion asked “Or were you going to stay as sir Radzig’s guest?”

Hynce quickly thought his options through.

He didn’t want to stand in front of sir Radzig, cold and hungry and a little bit defeated – he definitely wasn’t fond of the idea of explaining his reasons to the imposing nobleman.

The thought of searching for a place to spend the night was a bit daunting as well – he’d never slept in a tavern, let alone spent a night in one on his own and he wasn’t quite desperate enough to ask for a spot in some stranger’s barn. He was a nobleman, after all.

He hadn’t brought any supplies to set up a camp in the wild either, not that he even knew how to do that in the first place.

Hynce’s stomach growled loudly, reminding him that a place to sleep wasn’t the only thing he had to worry about.

The man coughed, which sounded suspiciously similar to a stifled chuckle, and spoke:

“How about this: why don’t we stop by my house? You can feed your horse and let him rest and I can try to fix us some supper. Later, you can decide on your lodgings for the night”

“I... I wouldn’t want to impose” Hynce said stiffly, trying to conceal how convenient the solution was to him.

“Oh, it would be no trouble really, company is always welcome” the man shrugged “Though both the food and the place might be of lower standard than you’re used to, but it’s better than nothing, eh?”

“I don’t mind simple food” Hynce replied proudly “Your offer is a kind and generous one and I would be amiss to look down on it for whatever reason”

The man smiled widely.

“What an admirable attitude. Your parents raised you well” he said.

Hynce looked away, flattered by the remark.

That’s right. He was a nobleman and in whatever circumstances he found himself, he ought to act like one; he was representing Rattay and his parents – he would carry himself with dignity and composure, whatever the next hours bring.

They neared the castle and for a moment Hynce grew worried that the man would lead them behind its walls, but his companion directed his horse to the side, on a narrow path leading to a sturdy-looking building standing in the shadow of a large tree. On the way, they passed a small forge and Hynce immediately asked:

“You’re a blacksmith?”

His companion nodded.

Fortune finally started smiling upon Hynce once more, it seemed. Of all people to bump into, meeting a blacksmith from Skalitz was a coincidence lucky enough to make up for all the unease of the day.

“Are you... How long have you been a blacksmith in Skalitz?” Hynce asked.

“Oh, I moved back here a year ago” the man shrugged “I grew up here, then spent a little while travelling around before coming back to take care of my father’s forge”

So that meant he probably couldn’t have been the same blacksmith who made the sword over a decade ago, even if the sword was made in Skalitz. But...

“And your father, does he still work here?”

“No. He died a long time ago” the stranger replied and it was the first time his voice lacked warmth; Hynce instantly knew he shouldn’t ask more questions.

“I’m sorry” he murmured.

The man nodded and they spoke no more until reaching the small stable by the house, where they unsaddled their horses and gave them water and fodder.

The blacksmith led Hynce into the building, lighting up the candles to brighten up the already dark room. As the shadows receded, Hynce couldn’t help but stare.

He’d never been to a commoner’s house, but he was quite sure the interior of this one was far from usual.

Bunches of herbs were hanging along the ceiling beams, drying and filling the air with smells Hynce wasn’t entirely familiar with. A large map of the region was hanging on the wall and in the corner stood a full armour that seemed to also serve as a clothing hanger.

But most peculiar of all was a sturdy, oakwood bookshelf and a matching desk next to it. Manuscripts and books were stacked on the shelves somehow haphazardly and on the desk laid a half-finished drawing of some mushroom. Or vegetable?

“You have... so many books” Hynce remarked, hoping not to sound too surprised that a blacksmith from Skalitz could not only read, but also afford numerous manuscripts.

“Feel free to browse” the man said, digging through his luggage in search of something.

Claws knocking on the wooden floor sounded from behind Hynce’s back and he turned to see a large, white-brown mutt walk in from the outside, its muzzle grey with age.

“There you are, old man” the blacksmith said, scratching the dog’s head “What have you been up to?”

The dog wagged its tail a few times, before moving to Hynce.

The boy lifted his hand, letting the dog sniff at it for a bit, before scratching him behind the ear.

“Keep each other company for a while, will you?” the man asked “I need to run a few errands, but I’ll be right back and we’ll eat something proper. In the meantime, you can help yourself to the apples, they’re fresh. There should be some crackers too. Somewhere”

“Thank you” Hynce said.

His host left, closing the door after himself and Hynce allowed himself to slowly walk around the room. Its entire unexpected decor suggested there was much more to the blacksmith than met the eye. He clearly had a vast knowledge of current events near and far and if he lived in Skalitz for a while, perhaps he has heard of Henry?

In the end, Hynce was inevitably drawn to the bookcase and its contents. There were manuscripts treating of herbology, medicine, philosophy and history... and some Hynce couldn’t even guess the contents of. There was poetry and chronicles and fables and something which appeared to be a brewer’s manual. Some were in Czech, some in Latin and some Hynce wasn’t too sure. Polish? Lithuanian?

His stomach growled again, but curiosity got the better of him and he started browsing through the books, picking those looking more interesting. Some were richly illustrated and Hynce would love to be given more time to read through them all.

Finally, he saw a familiar title and pulled out a beautiful, leather-bound volume of Le Livre de Lancelot du Lac, a favourite of his and Pa’s.

As he leafed through the book, a folded piece of yellowed parchment fell from between the pages. Hynce picked it up and was about to put it back inside the book, when he realized the page was filled with densely packed paragraphs.

Faded ink was not easily legible and Hynce knew he shouldn’t even try to make out what was written, but then his eyes found the very first line of the text and the book slipped out of his hands.

“My dearest, Henry,...”