The knight, armor clad and carrying a sword, rode on a
horse.  The knight was pensive, dreaming of a past that no
longer existed, in which a king was served, a cause was
followed, and dreams, like butterflies, were abundant to
chase joyfully.  The armor was hot, very hot, the sun
striking it until the knight felt as if the body was
steaming.  The knight thought that this might be a good way
to cook meat, but no way to ride.  The sword too, was heavy
in the knight's hand.  For the king had sent the knight
away, not with words, but with actions.  The very
uncertainty of the parting was gnawing away at the knight's
heart, tearing it to pieces.

The knight had never felt more alone, more listless.
Without the king, the knight had no life, no cause to fight
for, no one to protect.  And the king had not said a word.
It was not as if the king had said "good job, good knight,
but you are now dismissed."  The king had only shut himself
away in his tower, and had sent off the knight with no
farewell, no touch, no glance.  The knight had only left
because the knight felt unwanted.

The knight loved the king, fully, completely, in ways still
incomprehensible.  The knight's heart was bursting with
sorrow, all purpose lost, for to lose favor with the king
was to lose life.  The knight lived to serve the king,
please him, make him happy... all of the knight's thoughts
were constantly on the king's well-being.  The knight would
happily exchange any pile of jewels and gold for the
opportunity to return to the king's favor.

There was a stream nearby, the horse could sense it.  The
knight steered the beast towards the water, perhaps thinking
that a death by drowning would be better than the miserable
existence implied without being in service of the king.  The
horse whinnied, sensing his human's discomfort and trouble,
but did nothing more, for it was only a horse, after all.
What could it really do to ease the knight's suffering?
Nothing.  Nothing at all.  And so it walked on, silently,
towards the bubbling water, that was singing its merry way
over the rocks of the stream.

The knight signaled the horse to stop, and laboriously
climbed down, hampered by the armor and sword.  No matter
how many years the knight had carried them, they were still
heavy, and the knight wished that one day, perhaps, someone
would come and carry these things, rather than having to
carry them on one's own.  The knight quickly worked the
complex fastenings of the armor, stripping to the coarse
cloth underneath.  Chest armor, leg armor, shoulder plates,
steel shoes, until the knight's body was only covered in the
underclothes needed to avoid chafing.  As the knight removed
the helmet, a cascade of long tresses was freed from
captivity.  Sad eyes observed the stream, almost a river in
size, with deep enough crevices to wade in.  The knight
removed the tunic, and barefoot and naked walked into the
water, allowing the soothing current of the water sweep over
the body.  

Slowly, the knight lowered the long tresses and sad eyes
under the water, feeling the eddies caress her breasts, and
dreamed it was the king touching her.

Her last thought, as she closed her eyes under the water was
"if he had only kissed me goodbye... and had asked me to
stay..."


And she knew no more.