Dullahan: The Headless Knight

Part 3

It was a long night, one that did something to the King. All his life he was known to be a man of reason and justice, he was famed for not putting his personal gain or agendas ahead of the wellbeing of his subjects, but this went far beyond what he could compromise. His living daughter and the only remaining memory of his wife; it was simply too much to bare.

Roger never found the words to comfort his old friend. He simply tried his best to carry on with his duties, it wounded him to see Felix distraught.

The King sat on the throne longer than anyone would care to remember. He would refuse to eat unless driven to the brink of madness. So many sleepless nights passed until that final day when the doors to his castle were barged open by the elite scouts. The thump of the giant door was music to his ears, he rose from the throne as his eyes widened up. “Approach!” he commanded. “Tell me, what news do you bring?”

One of the scouts stepped forward and bowed. “It is as you suspected. The princess has gone to the village to try to and protect them. Our reports did indicate that a bandit lair lays close by—”

“Ready the army at once. You leave at daybreak,” the King interrupted.

The scouts gawked at his response. “My lord, that is an act of war!”

“I know what it means,” the King shouted back, as he fell on his throne. He gently lifted his palm and tried to steady it, but he couldn't stop the shaking.

“My liege . . .” Roger turned his gaze upon the King. “I implore you to use reason instead of madness here.”

“Hold your tongue Roger, you are a dear friend of mine, but that will only protect you for so long, do you hear me?” You'd have me s**t in my place and eat while my daughter rests there sitting for the butcher!”

“And how many daughters and men would perish at the end of this sad pursuit? Have you no regard to the war you're about to start?” Roger's words were harsh but they were true.

“Damn them, damn them all! The life of my daughter means so much more to me than they do, do you not see old Roger?”

“Have you forgotten the oath that—”

“I have not forgotten, how could I?” The King stood from his throne and scanned his surroundings. “Leave us,” he commanded all those gathered.

It didn't take long before the courtroom went silent after the absence of all save for those two friends. The hour was late but even then, their thoughts were as clear as day.

“It sounds awfully similar, Felix.”

“I will risk it,” the King said before he took a moment to catch his breath. “I remember it like the back of my hand.” He descended from his throne and stood next to Roger. Together they gazed upon the roof that was made of transparent glass, making way for the view of the lonely moon.

The night quickly turned viciously bright, as the King kept pondering at the thought of losing his only daughter, the jewel of his life. It haunted the back of his mind that he might have prevented this. Had he taken action before perhaps his daughter would still be beside him.

Roger was hurt, to see his friend and King suffer at the mercy of fate. He stood by him so many nights and days, until that the time Felix would unite with his daughter came.

A glistering sound burst open the giant doors that preceded the throne, and a dozen guards approached with Sasha in their midst. Their armor was nearly all covered by blood and the stench of freshly cut flesh.

“Sasha!” the King quickly descended the steps in a daze. He was moving left and right, and the closer he got to his daughter, the more concerned Roger got for his friend.

The guards made way as their King rushed to embrace his daughter. He pressed hard and true as he ran his fingertips through her hair. “I'm sorry,” he said as his voice broke. The thought of him losing her punished his mind more than he would care to admit. He didn't care about the consequences so long as she stood by his side.

“Father . . .” Sasha mumbled.

“You poor thing,” Felix said before he let go of the embrace and took a hard look at her face. “You must be starving . . . come, let us eat.” He grabbed her arm and gently pushed onwards. He looked at one of the servants. “Have the cooks prepare the best meals that they can.”

“Felix, now is not the –”

“Enough Roger!” the King interrupted, he just wouldn't have it. His mind buzzed with thoughts that any parent would do what he did lest they go insane. Was the life of one person truly worth risking an entire war? That remained to be seen, but the King did not regret his actions.

Roger didn't want to infuriate his King any longer and so decided to still his tongue for better or worse. Only he was breathing heavily, it was as if he knew that something foul was about to come their way.

As the King neared the entrance to the corridor, he heard an ungodly sound that ravaged his entire surroundings. He fell on his knees and smelled the stench of rotting flesh coming from the opposite direction. His vision was blurry but he squinted hard against the rubble to make the details of a figure riding a horse.

“Who are you? How dare you barge in like this!” one of the guards said as he drew his sword and marched against that rider.

In a blink of an eye, the rider swung an unusually long mace and split the approaching guard's head wide open. Chaos broke out in the throne room. That rider was not human. Its gouging eyes shifted towards one man and one man alone: Felix.

Once the rubble cleared, the nightmare became reality that day, as the rider was surrounded by shattering glass, somehow it had jumped in the throne room from the very top.

“You . . .” Felix mumbled, before his words betrayed him, his hands would not seize to tremble no matter how hard he tried.

“Father, are you alright?” Sasha said as she offered her hand to her father. “What in the world is happening right now!” She turned toward the rider. “Who are you?” she cried.

“Halt!” Felix shouted as loud as he could to his soldiers. “Do not engage!” he shouted again.

All the guards froze instantly at their King's command. Fear swelled up within the King's heart, and once that happens, all hopes of victory turned to ashes.

The gouging rider remained silent save for the growling noises that came from within its dark painted helmet. It only lifted its arm and pointed toward Felix, and then took out its gauntlet and threw it on the ground beside him.

“The Knight's code!” Sasha said. “Father, he's challenging you for a duel . . .”

“Do not pick it up Felix, you hear me?” Roger said.

“No, this is the result of my own actions, it seems only fair that I do this,” Felix said. He got up on his feet, brushed the dust off his clothes, and approached the gauntlet. “I knew you would come for me the second I ordered the army to march toward the village. Some promises must be kept, I suppose.”

“No! Father!” Sasha cried rushing toward him. She pushed him away and picked up the gauntlet herself. “I accept your challenge,” she said, staring down the unknown Knight.