Desecration of a saint

I wanted to ask what a contractor was—it had been on my mind since I first met one. But I hesitated. The guards had been kind to me so far, but after what had just happened with the knight, I didn't want to risk asking something I shouldn't.

Richard, the guard who had helped me earlier, walked over and sat down beside me. He gave me a small, reassuring smile.

"Boy," he began, his tone warm but tired, "honestly, even if you've got one of those demons or devils in you, you're still a good kid. You saved all of us, even if it was accidental."

I lowered my head slightly, unsure how to respond. "Thank you, sir," I said quietly.

I didn't know what else to say, because, in truth, I did think what happened earlier had been an accident. But then the first part of what he'd said sank in: demon… devil… What are those?

The question rose in my mind, growing louder until I couldn't ignore it. I hesitated for only a moment before deciding to ask Richard. He seemed approachable, and I figured he might actually give me an answer. I opened my mouth to speak.

Before I could get a word out, the knight strode over, his presence cold and haughty.

"Everyone, get up and put out the fire. It's time to go."

I followed the guards, trailing slightly behind them as we approached the horses that had been led over. There was another knight present, accompanied by some unfamiliar guards. These guards wore cloth emblazoned with the same cracked-wall design as the knights' armor. It struck me as odd. The guards I had traveled with didn't have those clothes. Did that mean they weren't of the same rank—or maybe not even part of the same group?

As I followed the group I'd been traveling with, I noticed something else. When everyone mounted their horses, there wasn't one for me. I stood awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to do, until the knight who had struck me earlier sneered in my direction.

"Consider this part of your training, slave. And here—catch."

He tossed a satchel down. It hit the ground with a heavy thud, and when I went to lift it, I realized why. The weight was staggering, so much so that I had to use both arms to heave it up. My knees nearly buckled under the strain.

"You can carry that until we get back to town," the knight said dismissively, not even sparing me a glance. "Everyone, make ready. We'll be riding at half pace the whole way, so it should be an easy ride."

I fumbled with the sack, trying to find a comfortable way to hold it. My arms strained, the coarse material digging into my skin. As I was still adjusting, the group started to ride away. Their "half pace" was almost a full run for me.

Gritting my teeth, I hugged the sack tightly against my chest and pushed forward, my legs burning with every step as I struggled to keep up.

The run felt endless, stretching on for what seemed like half the night. My chest heaved with labored breaths, and at one point, I vomited on myself from sheer exhaustion. Sand clung to my clothes and skin, mixing with blood from scraped knees and hands when I'd fallen. My eyes burned from salty sweat, and tears streamed down my face unbidden, mingling with the grime that covered me.

Finally, in the distance, I saw the faint glow of city lights.

"Group! Halt!" the knight commanded.

The riders stopped, their horses shifting restlessly. I stumbled to catch up, lagging behind as I had been for some time now.

"Slave, open the sack and let out its contents," the knight barked.

I dropped the heavy sack to the ground and opened it as instructed. Inside, I found only rocks—just rocks. My gaze lingered on the pile for a moment before shifting to my filthy, trembling body. A strange new feeling welled up inside me, something I couldn't quite name. It wasn't anger, nor sadness, but something harder to define.

When I looked back up at the knight, his expression darkened. He must have interpreted my gaze as disrespectful because he dismounted and strode toward me.

"Insolent cur," he snarled, his voice icy with contempt. His armored hand lashed out, striking me hard across the face. The blow left me reeling, my cheek stinging with fresh pain. "Look at me like that again, and I'll have your eyes removed."

I quickly lowered my head, forcing myself not to meet his gaze again. The weight of humiliation pressed down on me like the sack I had carried.

The knight mounted his horse once more, the sound of hooves clinking against the ground signaling his retreat. I fell in line behind the group, stumbling forward until we finally reached the gates of the city.

The city gates were guarded by four men dressed in the same cloth-styled uniforms as the knights, each holding long poles tipped with red metal. As we approached, they stepped aside in unison, slamming their fists to their chests in a salute.

The city itself was clean, with a stone-paved main street that stretched out before us. Dirt paths branched off into the shadows between buildings, which were dimly illuminated by candlelight or torches hanging near their entrances. Guards patrolled in pairs, their presence unusually heavy. From what I had seen at my old master's estate, cities didn't typically have this much security, and I couldn't help but wonder why.

As we continued down the main street, we came to a fork in the road. Everyone but the knight who had struck me earlier split off, leaving me alone with him. I hesitated for a moment but followed him as he turned down the left path.

The road ahead was quieter, the shadows deeper between buildings, until a massive circular building loomed into view. Its size was imposing, the structure built of stone that seemed to be as strong as most castle walls.