Moving orders

The silence of the cafe is shattered as Boots drags the unconscious poet in.

Suit looks up from his vigil and stares hard and says "What the hell happened to him?"

"Fool boy got a little brave" grunted Boots as he peeled the ruined armor off the limp figure.

"Borrowed my gear and went out all by himself"

Suit gets up and strides across the room to examine his friend, making sure he was alright, only pausing at the large injury on the right shoulder.

"I see you taught him the lance" he comments quietly as he moved on to inspect the armor.

"He took it straight in the chest!" exclaimed Suit as he turned furiously on Boots, "Did you not teach him to protect himself?"

"I tried to! He wouldn't take it on! Said his magic would protect him, said that a knight didn't need armor. I had to force him to put the thing on!"

"I see... that boy, he always had some strange ideas" said Suit as he reigned in his anger. "You got involved too?" he asked softly as he noticed that Boots too was bleeding from a multitude of small wounds himself.

"Someone had to make sure he got back in one piece." Shrugged the weary soldier.

"He did know didn't he?" asked Suit as he turned away from the other men to hide is own fatigue.

"Know what?"

"That lances shatter on impact?"

"I'm sure he did, but he choose it nevertheless. I don't believe what a fool he was... is...erggg."

Suit pauses and turns, staring the soldier straight in the eyes.

"Were you not like that too when I found you out there and brought you here?"

Suit turns away again and stares out at the crossroads,

"Tend to your wounds and patch the boy up, we have our orders. We march at dawn"


epilogue

On a distant hill far away,

where the remains of a shattered lance lie.

Time and tide do walk on by.

But in the cold and early morn,

Flutters a tree, a fern, a frond?

No, a flower golden like the blazing sun.

Rises up for tomorrow's song.