You train your whole life for a single moment, ready and alert, then you realise, mid-ponder as birds were fluttering overhead, that it just happened and you missed it. The moments that followed, I can never forget. The memories of before, I have recalled a hundred times and forged into steel. That moment, though, I missed it - that moment all was lost in an instant, and I, Sir Jason Thane, did nothing.The city centre was alive. A huge crowd, all the citizens of Brassdon and lords, knights and anyone who is anyone from across Angdom, had come. It was their day in the sun, my day to roast in steel plate armour. I was stood behind the king, to his right, as we approached the stage. I, and three others who drew short straws, wore the ceremonial Lion-helmets - living legends. Sons sat on fathers' shoulders, mouths ajar, ice cream dripping to the floor, watching us pass by.
Today, my job is to guard the king, but truly I was part of his jewellery. He had just been coronated in the cathedral by the High Mother. As a Lion Knight, your tasks vary and I usually work alone, but on this day, all ten Lion Knights were out on display, summoned to keep the peace and be the story. This new king, Fredric Forten, understood the importance of an idea. When you stand in this hot armour, you are more than a guard - you are the embodiment of an idea. An idea that found the very country these people call home, that keep us united together, that helps us feel safe at night from the dangers out there.
So they cheer, chant, chatter; all this noise blended together into a thunderous racket, so they can sleep soundly tonight. All this noise, dressed up as joy, really just shows how desperate they want to believe, to hide how terrified they would be without it. Loud and mighty; it drowned out the trumpets, drowned out your thoughts.
The image when King Fredric took to the stage was designed. Fredric, tall and bold, wore royal blue, like the darker shades used on the Trident crest, a symbol of his father's lands. His straight, black hair nestled back, combed under the majestic, golden Crown of Ang. At the foot of the stage, the palace guard, supported with three Lion Knights; the most famous, no helmets, smiles wide. Fredric takes the centre stage, in the four corners, three Lion Knights and I stand - thick, purple capes; heavy Lion helmets; vision obstructed, not practical at all, an awakened clay oven would better stand sentinel. Another three Lion Knights backstage, doing a real job. The setup was a compromise between style and substance. The city guard patrolled the crowds, best they could, but I wished and had argued to be out there among them - maybe if I had insisted, things would be different.
When I was a child, my father brought me to attend King Edwin's coronation here in the capital. He wore Angdom's colours, he stood on that stage alone, while his Lion Knights mingled with the crowd - a heavy sense of respect and duty was installed in the people, chins and chests raised high. King Edwin did not induldge in long speeches, he was a man of action, but on that day, he spoke awhile. He made promises and he prayed for this kingdom.
It was there, in the crowd, that I saw Lord Arthur Fairfox for the first time, though just a knight then, he trained under the Lions and the public saw him as an unofficial eleventh member. Now, under those thick grey eyebrows of his, he stares out into the crowd as our leader, at the foot of the stage. Not only is Lord Arthur famed across the land, he is loved. He and King Edwin were a mighty duo, who led this country into a golden era. In that moment, I hoped that King Fredric could do the same, but I was uncertain.
Left side of Lord Arthur, King Fredric composed Lady Vixen standing tall, feet apart, red hair tied back and both pale hands clutching her two-handed greatsword, pierced down into the ground. To the right, Sir Roderick, an inch shorter than Lady Vixen, rooted his palms either side of his belt, at the stem of a dagger and the handle of his longsword; both blades resting in their scabbards.
Vixen is the first woman of our order and one of the strongest, fierce fighters I have ever met blades with. Roderick, well, everyone already knows his story. He is still a boy at heart, but formidable. I sometimes question what I would have done in his situation.
Lord Arthur Fairfox is wise and kind, Sir Roderick Westrun famed as swift and ruthless, Lady Vixen Southstone standing graceful and an ambitious eye on Arthur's command stripes.
Sir Roderick's eyes scanned across the faces in the crowd. I spotted a
hooded man, with a large moustache, shifting back and forth and moving
his hands in and out of his cloak. Sir Roderick did not seem to notice.
