Read Online Chris Karlsen - Knights in Time by Knight Blindness - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Knight Blindness
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as he had always been.
Stephen took a moment to collect himself and not let his anger taint the conversation.
“They tell me it is permanent, my blindness. But you remain unharmed. How is that?”
“It is part of the same strange and long story Basil and I will relate on the trip home.
“A man who said he was from a musee, whatever that is, stole my things. I want my
sword returned to me. He can have the armor, my surcoat and chausses as well, but not my
sword.”
“We have his contact information. We’ll get your sword. If you’re ready, we’ll go.”
Stephen pushed the anger from his thoughts. His friends had come and he was leaving this
strange place at last.
“I’m ready. There’s nothing for me here.” As he reached for his cane, he wondered how
much there was for him at home.
#
In the corridor, Guy took him by the elbow.
“I appreciate your attempt to assist me, but let go—please. I am capable of walking the
hall.” Stephen worked the cane the way Juliette had instructed, side to side, while Guy and Basil walked behind him. Past the nurse’s station, he stopped and waited for the whoosh of the
impressive doors that opened without touch.
“Our king should have these,” he said and stepped through.
He’d gone four strides when Guy warned, “Watch out, there are stairs directly in front of
you,” and grabbed him by the arm.
“Don’t.” Stephen tore from the grasp. “I must learn to do things on my own. He used his
cane to feel the depth of the rise and then took a tentative step forward. He found his way to the flat path without incident.
“Stop. This is a dangerous spot. You have to let us help you now,” Guy said. Stephen
sensed they flanked him.
A carriage of some kind went by in front of him at a speed no carriage he knew of could
travel. Nor was there the clatter of hooves or grinding of wheels. He’d witnessed carts and
carriages with runaway horses rushing down a road. Never were they so fast as to generate a
wind like the one that blew over him. He’d jerked back and shamefully gasped like a woman. The
carriage fouled the air in its wake. It didn’t stink as bad a tanner’s shop, but it left the air smelling sour and heavy.
“What manner of carriage passed?” he asked.
“Stephen, do you remember how you got to the hospital?” Guy asked.
“I fell into one of several dreamless sleeps I experienced these past days. I have no
recollection of the journey.”
“A special steel carriage brought you from the field to the hospital. Another type of steel
carriage like the one we’ll ride in just drove past. The unfamiliar ride may disturb you. You must trust us when we say you are safe.”
He didn’t like the sound of the last.
“Ah good, the limo driver saw us,” Guy added.
A moment later, there was the crunch of grit on the ground. Stephen sensed the presence
of a large carriage in front of him. Something...a door...opened and slammed shut. If it was a
door, it didn’t sound wooden. No thud. It too, must be steel.
“Monsieur Lancaster, Monsieur Cherlein,” a new voice said and the opening sound
repeated.
Guy urged him forward a couple of steps, then placed a hand on Stephen’s head and
started to press down.
Stephen pushed his hand away. “What are you doing?”
“You need to duck or you’ll bump your head on the doorframe.
“Show me the top and I can handle the rest,” he said, folding his cane, he lifted his free
hand. Guy took it and pressed it to a hard metal lintel. Stephen dipped his head enough to clear the entry.
Guy took the cane from him and instructed him to raise his foot knee height and over to
the left until he found the edge of the carriage floor. When Stephen did, he told him to bend as though sitting on a chair and he’d guide him to the right spot.
“Slide to your left,” Guy said.
Stephen tested with his hand how far he could move. Soft leather, like deerskin, covered a
sturdy but comfortable bench. He
Stephen took a moment to collect himself and not let his anger taint the conversation.
“They tell me it is permanent, my blindness. But you remain unharmed. How is that?”
“It is part of the same strange and long story Basil and I will relate on the trip home.
“A man who said he was from a musee, whatever that is, stole my things. I want my
sword returned to me. He can have the armor, my surcoat and chausses as well, but not my
sword.”
“We have his contact information. We’ll get your sword. If you’re ready, we’ll go.”
Stephen pushed the anger from his thoughts. His friends had come and he was leaving this
strange place at last.
“I’m ready. There’s nothing for me here.” As he reached for his cane, he wondered how
much there was for him at home.
#
In the corridor, Guy took him by the elbow.
“I appreciate your attempt to assist me, but let go—please. I am capable of walking the
hall.” Stephen worked the cane the way Juliette had instructed, side to side, while Guy and Basil walked behind him. Past the nurse’s station, he stopped and waited for the whoosh of the
impressive doors that opened without touch.
“Our king should have these,” he said and stepped through.
He’d gone four strides when Guy warned, “Watch out, there are stairs directly in front of
you,” and grabbed him by the arm.
“Don’t.” Stephen tore from the grasp. “I must learn to do things on my own. He used his
cane to feel the depth of the rise and then took a tentative step forward. He found his way to the flat path without incident.
“Stop. This is a dangerous spot. You have to let us help you now,” Guy said. Stephen
sensed they flanked him.
A carriage of some kind went by in front of him at a speed no carriage he knew of could
travel. Nor was there the clatter of hooves or grinding of wheels. He’d witnessed carts and
carriages with runaway horses rushing down a road. Never were they so fast as to generate a
wind like the one that blew over him. He’d jerked back and shamefully gasped like a woman. The
carriage fouled the air in its wake. It didn’t stink as bad a tanner’s shop, but it left the air smelling sour and heavy.
“What manner of carriage passed?” he asked.
“Stephen, do you remember how you got to the hospital?” Guy asked.
“I fell into one of several dreamless sleeps I experienced these past days. I have no
recollection of the journey.”
“A special steel carriage brought you from the field to the hospital. Another type of steel
carriage like the one we’ll ride in just drove past. The unfamiliar ride may disturb you. You must trust us when we say you are safe.”
He didn’t like the sound of the last.
“Ah good, the limo driver saw us,” Guy added.
A moment later, there was the crunch of grit on the ground. Stephen sensed the presence
of a large carriage in front of him. Something...a door...opened and slammed shut. If it was a
door, it didn’t sound wooden. No thud. It too, must be steel.
“Monsieur Lancaster, Monsieur Cherlein,” a new voice said and the opening sound
repeated.
Guy urged him forward a couple of steps, then placed a hand on Stephen’s head and
started to press down.
Stephen pushed his hand away. “What are you doing?”
“You need to duck or you’ll bump your head on the doorframe.
“Show me the top and I can handle the rest,” he said, folding his cane, he lifted his free
hand. Guy took it and pressed it to a hard metal lintel. Stephen dipped his head enough to clear the entry.
Guy took the cane from him and instructed him to raise his foot knee height and over to
the left until he found the edge of the carriage floor. When Stephen did, he told him to bend as though sitting on a chair and he’d guide him to the right spot.
“Slide to your left,” Guy said.
Stephen tested with his hand how far he could move. Soft leather, like deerskin, covered a
sturdy but comfortable bench. He
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