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[Eclyse Christian]

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“So ye expect me to believe ye killt a man in self defense an’ buried ‘is corpse to hide it fer three years?” The sheriff paused, tapping the quill slowly and thoughtfully. Each tap left an ink blotch in the corner of the parchment where he’d been recording her confession. “Bit far-fetched, don’t ye think Miss Laughlin?”

Eclyse sat in the chair, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees. She lowered her eyes and spoke quietly but assuredly. “’Tis the truth o’ the matter, Sir. Lord McKairin is my knight, and I his squire. I returned at his behest, to unburden my soul of the truth. I sought to redeem my honour. Truth is, I went about it wrong. But there ye ‘ave it.” She sighed deeply and lifted her eyes again to meet his, as he studied her. “And the name’s Christian. Eclyse Christian.”

The sheriff shifted uneasily at once in his chair, which broke the silence as it creaked in response to his movement. “Eclyse Christian. Any kin to Baron Andrew Christian, of Minoc?”

“My father, Sir.” Eclyse’s heart sank as she considered how her actions would reflect on her father.

“Ah.” The sheriff leaned back in his chair and stared at the transcription of her confession, obviously concentrating on something far beyond the words that dribbled down the page in his scrawling hand.

“Milady Christian,” he began, his tone markedly different. “I find myself at an impasse with the law. By yer own confession, ye are no murderer. But ye’ve obstructed justice and prevented resolution for three years. Ye’ve attempted to evade arrest, and outright lied about yer identity.”

Eclyse blinked, taken aback by the change in conversation. “Aye…But…”

“But nothin’, Milady. We can’t put a baroness on trial for a murder she din’t commit now can we, eh?”

“Baroness?” Eclyse shook her head. “But I lef—“

The sheriff held up a hand to silence her. “Hawthorne’s Valley doesn’t want conflict with Baron Christian or th’ city o’ Minoc. But there’ll be a little matter of recompense for yer actions. Aida Dalton’s done fretted o’er her boy fer three years now. What d’we do about that?”

Realization slowly crept over Eclyse, and she bolstered herself with increasing courage. “I should think ye a fair man o’ the law, Sir. I trust yer judgement, an’ I pay my debt to society gladly, in th’ name o’ justice and honour.”

“Excellent, excellent. Yer knight’s taught ye well.” The sheriff’s tone rang too cheerfully, and it grated on Eclyse. But she sat up straight and watched him intently.

“Tell ye what, Milady Christian. There’s no sense in keepin’ ye locked up any longer than we ‘ave to. I’ll put in fer th’ magistrate to process yer punishment. What say, five lashings wi’ the cane?” His expression suddenly fell as he swallowed hard. “Say, that Knight o’ yers…..he’ll pro’lly insist on bein’ present fer the….” His words faltered.

“Oh aye, Sir. I’m sure he’ll be keenly interested in overseein’ the procedure.”

The sheriff’s words cracked as they were uttered in little more than a whisper. “Aye….was afraid ye’d say that.”

[Eclyse Christian]

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Kaylor sat on a worn wooden stool in cold silence, staring vacantly at the stone floor of her cell. Three days had elapsed since she had told him of the sheriff’s decision. And three days had elapsed since Eclyse had allowed her knight to return to her cell. Eclyse sat on the floor at his feet. The nondescript prison robes turned her into a shapeless form as she hugged her knees tightly to her chest and watched Kaylor intently, in hopes of reading one of the myriad of thoughts that flitted through his darkened eyes.

Finally he broke the silence. “Godsteeth woman, they could have done anything to you in three days.”

“Not without risking your wrath.” Eclyse smiled faintly, but he did not lift his gaze. Carefully, she rearranged herself to kneel facing him. “Sir…I've seen what this place does t' ye.” Her eyes flitted to the perspiration beading on his brow. “And I needed time to meditate and pray."

At last, Kaylor’s cold glare was broken. He lifted his gaze to Eclyse and stared into her eyes for a moment. When he spoke, his expression was masked, unreadable. “There were other ways to handle this than what you’ve done.”

“No other path. No other way. This is how it had t’ be done, Sir. This is what’s right.”

Kaylor looked her over, a hint of disbelief reflecting in his eyes. “Very well, Squire. It’s your quest. I suppose you’ve done what you felt was best.”

Eclyse nodded once. “I have, Sir. An’ when this is o’er, I will walk out o’ here freely, wi’ the absolution I’ve wanted for so long.”

Kaylor did not respond. Instead, he looked past her, toward the barred cell door behind her. He spoke to her in a hushed tone as he watched a guard unlock and open the door.

“It is time, Squire.“

[Eclyse Christian]

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The chamber was windowless, and dimly lit by torches. This was a place that did not know the gentle touch of daylight. Eclyse’s wide green eyes scanned the details of the room, trying to adjust to the light.

“Forward.” The command was curt, accompanied by a sharp prod in the middle of her back.

Eclyse looked up to find Kaylor watching back toward her expectantly. “Squire?”

She had not even realized she’d paused as they entered the dank chamber. “Aye, Sir.” She picked up the hem of the robes to keep them from tripping her, and stepped into the center of the chamber at the behest of the guard behind her. A tall guard ushered Kaylor to the far wall and stood next to the Black Knight vigilantly.

“Straight ahead. Lean against the wall.” A new voice came from the darkest corner of the room, and a man emerged bearing a thick cane, as long as he was tall. Eclyse’s heart thudded hastily in her chest, and her face burned hotly as she cast a hesitant glance toward Kaylor. He nodded once to her. His eyes reflected no light here, and it was impossible to tell if he was trying to reassure her or quite simply urging her to follow the order.

“Make haste, Miss," the constable ordered impatiently. "Let’s get this o’er with. Lean against the wall.”

Eclyse did as he commanded. She spaced her feet shoulders’ width apart, then braced herself against the wall with open palms. The robe was untied from behind her and dropped to her waist, leaving only her Stonegate blue doublet to protect her.

The constable unrolled a parchment and read it in a matter-of-fact tone. “Eclyse Christian, you have, by your own confession, been found guilty of perjury, evasion, and obstruction of justice. Your punishment will now be carried out by way of five lashes wi’ the cane.”

She felt Kaylor’s stare from behind her, and her cheeks burned with the ruddy blush of shame. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to give in to the emotions that flooded her. If on’y ye weren’t here t’ see this, Sir, it’d be easier t’ handle…

The first lash came at a diagonal across her back. She felt the give as the fabric of her doublet was rent by the blow, before she ever felt the pain. A second blow seared her flesh as if the cane were white hot. Eclyse gritted her teeth and held her breath, bracing more firmly against the wall. The pain radiated and pulsed as the constable moved to her left and issued another blow. She felt the shredded fabric of her doublet soak with blood as his fourth blow overlapped the first three. As the final lash was dealt, the world began to tilt and turn over with her stomach.

That was five. It’s o'er. Eclyse tried to stand upright again, but lost her balance as the already darkened chamber began to grey out around her. Instead, her hands slid down the wall as she fell to her knees with a soft cry. Strong arms caught her in time to break her fall, and lifted her away from the cold stone floor. Her head nodded drowsily as she fought through the waves of hazy nausea. "I was s’posed to walk out o’ here…free an’ with absolution…S’posed to walk out o’ here…"

[Kaylor]

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Kaylor closed his eyes and forced himself to push away the terror that nagged at the edges of his soul. Memories of weeks spent secured away from his life, the surety of execution looming at the forefront of each rising dawn, gnawed at his sinews like maggots feasting upon the remnants of fetid rotting flesh. He leaned back against the wall seeking support from the stony fortification, but found nothing more than unyielding solidity.

Giving in to the somber circumstance, he reluctantly allowed his lids raise and surveyed the sepulchral surroundings. Darkness crept over each breath dared drawn in this wretched chamber. Shadows disinclined to manifest betwixt the torchlight's quivering dim. He sensed more than saw the guard positioned too near his right shoulder, only then coming to the realization that the man had remained at his side apparently refusing to release his concentrated observation. " Go hifreann leat!", he swore with a scowl in his native Gaelic.

"Back at ya!" the guard glowered in reply. "Whatever the 'ell ya jes' said."

Kaylor groaned, altering his focus to the woman standing with hands braced against the opposite wall. He'd agreed to squire her, teach her and guide her - bring her to the precipice of knighthood and encourage her toward its august achievement. Perhaps it wasn't such a fine idea. Virtue, after all, was nothing more than a facade behind which true evil lay and here she was thanks to his perfect aegis, about to pay the price for honour's shadow.

The nondescript prison robe draping Eclyse's petite form held little might in concealing her beauty. Prior to their meeting he'd sworn to keep love at bay, never again allow a woman close enough to hurt him. But time had wrought an unanticipated change. Thus far he'd maintained the required auspices between knight and squire, never crossing that fine line. If he could but wrap her in his arms just once, hold her close and taste her lips . . . . .

Raw brutality rent the silence, tearing him from his reverie as the cane came thrashing down upon Eclyse's innocence. Rage blinded reason. Stepping away from the wall, he reached for the hilt of his mace and was almost upon the constable before conceiving comprehension of the portent of such action. He halted mid-stride. She needed his strength and he wouldn't fail her. Still. Quiet. Wait. Lowering away his hand, bowing his head, he stood where he'd stopped and, for the first time since acquiescing to Rhiannon's profane curse, crossed himself in prayer.

Blessed quiet gave way to misery's muffled cry. Kaylor opened his eyes at the sound, rushing to catch Elyse as the pain of what she'd just endured enveloped her.

"I was s’posed to walk out o’ here…free an’ with absolution…S’posed to walk out o’ here… "

"I cannot know what measure of absolution may be found in this knight's embrace, Eclyse," he whispered bringing his lips to rest softly against hers. "But I pray my love may carry you from this day ever forward."
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*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*