An Unfair Choice

by Paw Lundgreen

For a long time he had a dream that someday he would achieve something great. The dream came true, but it didn’t quite turn out as he expected.

He woke up at sunrise with an empty stomach. It was becoming even harder to find food since the King had banned all hunting in his forests.

A complete plate-mail and the precious family-sword were the only tangible memories that Pirvan Pathway had about his family. He had lived in the forest for three months, while considering his next move. Pirvan knew deep inside that what his father had done was wrong, but the honor of the family was more important than anything else in his life. The tournament in Ashby should clean his family’s name.

Pirvan heard the sound of steel against steel. A fight! A hooded personality resisted, in a mysterious way, continuous attacks from two warriors. This was a chance to perform a heroic deed. The dream about achieving something great rummaged in his mind while chasing the two warriors on the run.

“Do you request my humble assistance?” Pirvan asked. The slender figure solemnly nodded and answered with a low but bidding voice: “Lead me to Ashby my honorable knight.”

Pirvan saw the face of the figure for the first time when they camped for the night. He had never seen such a beautiful lady before. During the two-week ride to Ashby the gratitude had turned into mutual love between Rosalind and Pirvan.

Pirvan wanted to marry Rosalind, but it was against Pirvan’s own code of honor to marry anyone at the time being. He had to clear his name before anything else. If only he could claim the victory in the tournament then all his problems would be gone.

The preliminary rounds were easy for Pirvan. He didn’t even suffer a single scratch. The only true threat left seemed to be a tall white knight. The White Knight fought fair and with such elegance that the audience made standing applause whenever The White Knight won a fight but no one knew who he was.

Pirvan questioned a lot of people about The White Knight. The rumors were that he was extremely poor despite his expensive clothes and equipment. He fought for the peasants and all the poor in and near the village. He would donate the trophy and the money to the poor if he won the tournament. Pirvan was ashamed about his own motives when he heard all that. He tried to leave the tournament, but it turned out to be illegal according to orders from the King.

The White Knight and Pirvan had qualified to the semifinals. Again Pirvan had an easy win but he knew The White Knight would be harder.

The White Knight and his opponent both went down at the jousting contest; this meant a fight with swords to the death. The warrior slashed hard at The White Knight’s leg, but that slash was even more crucial for the warrior than The White Knight. The warrior lost his balance, making an opening for a thrust. The audience and Pirvan let out a sigh of relief after their favorite’s victory. The White Knight kneeled and prayed for the dead warrior. He didn’t even try to stop his major wound. His face was filled with sorrow after the loss of another innocent life.

The head of the tournament announced that the finals would start in an hour. Pirvan would have objected if Rosalind hadn’t stopped him.

A lot of thoughts went through Pirvan’s head. He couldn’t leave the tournament. It would be too obvious if he lost to such a weakened opponent, and it would be without honor to fight an almost half-dead man. A knight should follow the rules and at the same time protect the weak and innocent. Could he still fulfill his own dream? Would his conscience allow him peace in his mind whether he won or lost? A long and loud scream pulled him together. Who was screaming? Was it he? It didn’t matter. Pirvan knew what to do. The White Knight had to lose a fight, which would honor them both.

A messenger from the King wanted to talk to Pirvan. The White Knight was a threat to the King. He was helping the poor to revolt. If he won, the reward for his victory would be the financial aid he needed to lead a revolution against the King. Pirvan didn’t think that it was his problem, but was then reminded of his oath when the King knighted him. The oath bounded him to help the King before anyone else. If Pirvan denied then he could consider himself dead. What kind of a choice was that? Should he kill against his will or be killed as a traitor?

The two riders spurred their horses: a white knight with a crucial wound in his leg and a black knight with a mental fight of his own. There were a couple of rides against each other. Lance against shield! The White Knight called upon his last strength. Pirvan seemed hypnotized. The White Knight struck Pirvan in the chest, and they fell off the horses, both wounded now. Pirvan began to focus on the fight only. Both knights used the same style of fighting. Almost like one person fighting himself. Finally, the strength of The White Knight vanished and was then disarmed by Pirvan. The cheers turned to sighs from the audience. Pirvan hesitated. He looked at the King and then at Rosalind. He prayed silently before he struck his sword through the chest of The White Knight. Then the helm fell of The White Knight’s head. The recognition shredded his inner soul. His scream joined the outcry of the audience. “My brother” he screamed.

Pirvan followed the orders of the King, even though he knew that is was morally wrong. From that day the King was untouchable. The people lost their hero. Pirvan ended up with his beloved Rosalind but at what price?

For a long time he had a dream that someday he would achieve something great. The dream came true, but it didn’t quite turn out as he expected.