Havrik: The Knight of Prague

By Mike Hoover

Chapter 1. The Vagrants Her beauty, Leith thought, enhanced the desolate scene. For as far as he could make out it was gray -- gray water, gray sand, and gray beyond the sand. Violent waves crashed on the shoreline along which the knight staggered, his head throbbing with pain, and not at all distracting him from the wound in his arm, or of her, the gypsy girl who travelled beside him. They had, some moments ago, been rudely assaulted by a group of Scottish bravos, and Leith, despite being a gentleman, with all the good qualities that entailed, now expressed the most severe caution and displeasure. Despite this, his gait was slow and confident, his back firm -- but in his handsome skull were two eyes of interminable woe. That is at least what she thought of them, though in another time and place she might perhaps love them. As for Veronica, she had black straight hair parted in the middle over her tan ovular face, a look more of roguery than gentleness, and almond eyes in which a thousand curious glints and shades were ingrained. If she could capture any man's attention on whom she threw a glance, it mattered little now; for Leith was indifferent to all but his moody recollections. It was only a year ago he had been on the battlefield, and women had become something of 'a Spanish village' to him since then. "How far before we get there," was his primary thought, though hers, "Who will be waiting for us?" was a more appropriate question. Ascending a thorny crag, the entirety of which was imprisoned in vines, weeds, and sharp nettles, they stumbled, trying not to think how they would fend off another attack. "Is there someone up ahead, Leith?" asked Veronica under her breath. "Why, surely fate would not prove so cruel, as to bring more trouble on us." "It is a justifiable concern, anyways." "Justifiable -- but no evidence as yet." The dim strand awoke with thunder and lightning, and Veronica shivered. "That lit up the whole sky -- it reminded me of the fire in London," she remarked. "You witnessed it?" Veronica nodded, "I was a child then," and returned her attention to her footsteps. Leith was also afraid, for he had seen that terror of nature melt the very armor off a man while he and Charles X Gustav were fording the Vistula. Now ascending a thorny crag, the whole of which was imprisoned in vines, weeds, and sharp nettles, they walked, Veronica resisting thoughts of the fire, and Leith of the man burnt to ash. At intervals the sky brightened with quiet illumination; the waves could be heard crashing on the beleaguered shore; rain pelted like bullets, and disorder was everywhere to be seen. On chestnut and elm, on the sodden wings of the cormorant -- all betokened distress. Vivid memories were inescapable now, as, around each twist or turn there seemed to him another godforsaken Riever, and every wiry branch the arm of a furious blade. It became quiet again, painfully so. "Was there ever such stillness during a storm?" Leith asked himself. "Not that I cannot hear the rumbles of thunder when it cuts through the air, but the successive space of quiet between them is what bothers me -- it seems as though the whole world were waiting in mute adoration or fear of its commands!" More affecting of the strangeness he was now commenting upon, was the quietness of the supposed Healer Witch's dog. "Why isn't he afraid?" Leith asked Veronica sternly, while grabbing one blood-drawing vine and pushing away another.

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: B0F62TQCGW
• ISBN13: 9798280926400
• Release Date: April 2025
• Publisher: Independently published
• Length: 160 Pages
• Dimensions: 7.8" x 0.4" x 5.1"