"Raider 03: Arrest" by Richard Lorenz

I seem to have gotten ahead of myself, telling you why they were coming before we reached the actual trial. But I wanted you to know why they were angry and desperate, so easily overwrought. I am not much in appearance, being a bit shorter than most men, and having the pale complexion of a some blind fish living in a cave far from the light of day. Or a bookkeeper. Not very imposing, although, by my hair, many think I have a terrible temper barely held in check. All they have to do is look in my eyes and see I am not so terrible. And my name, well, I’ll have to get back to you on that. It seems to keep changing on me. Not my fault, of course. And you will just have to trust me on this.

Well now, where was I? Oh yes, I was in bed. My eyes were closed, but my mind was wide-awake and ready for the day. I just love the mornings and can't wait to get out of bed. I stayed in bed because I was addicted to rest. The quilt was warm, and a bit dusty. If I breathed in too deeply, it would make me sneeze. If I turned over, the ropes would creak, and the straw would crackle and poke me. My bed was only comfortable when I was truly tired.

The birds were calling to each other and there were just a few people out on the streets now. Other than the Knights and the Priests searching diligently for me, that is. It was about an hour before sunrise, when I finally got up and began preparing for my day. And what a day it would be.

I pulled on my brown leggings and drew a green tunic over my head. I only had two of each, one set to wear and the other to wash. A thin belt and knee-high black boots finished my preparations. Then I settled down to breakfast. Last nights bread and cheese with a little bit of warm water would hold me until I went out for something more substantial.

You may ask why I didn’t rage and struggle, try to fight and slip away from them. After all, I am a considered a warrior by some, so I should be able have been able to take a couple of exhausted knights who had been out all night. Why didn’t I slip out the back in the first moments of confusion? Well, to answer your unasked questions, I was startled, and there is no back door. I never needed one, because I don’t skulk and sneak. And I was startled. I already said that, didn’t I. I tend to repeat myself when I am startled.

However, I must say I was glad when I saw them gathering everything up for me. This way I wouldn’t have to come back for it. I had seen this happen before. Someone gets hauled off, and the locals welcome themselves to everything he owns. Whose going to see, and IF he comes back, which isn't very likely, to whom is he going to complain? The very people who arrested him? Not likely.

The knights picked up my bits of armor, and sniffed disdainfully at what I had. It was light and mismatched. But it was comfortable. And it had been given to me, piece by piece. You can’t find a better price. The youngest knight there picked up my staff. An underpriest came out of my bedroom with the quilt, and the other assistant gathered up my books. I only had a half dozen the size of my hand and leather bound. I had written them myself. They tossed the books onto the quilt and began to roll it up. But they were going to forget my unicorn’s horn.

When I mentioned that, they all looked shocked. The senior knight looked extremely angry, but he alone was brave enough to touch it, and gingerly tossed it into the quilt, for safe transportation.

Let me explain about unicorns, for the ignorant people out there. They are generally considered sacred creatures, and to kill one is a crime against the gods. (Well then, if thats the case, let the gods punish me, and the rest of you keep your hands off.) Some temples say that the gods, for their pleasure, created unicorns. Other orders claim that unicorns are gods, while another group believes that they are natural creatures, but claimed by the gods for for their personal use only. So, the temples and orders argue among themselves, while everybody else knows to just keep their hands off. Killing a unicorn is akin to killing a demi-god. Nigh on impossible, and a sure-fire way to bring the indiscriminate wrath of the gods down on anyone in the vicinity.

Another rumor revolves specifically around the spiralling horn of the unicorn. If a man can capture a unicorn, and cut off its horn, the unicorn will have to serve him. As a mount, beast of burden, or whatever service was desired. Being creatures of a divine nature, they are supposed to have above average intelligence and a high order of magic abilities. I can tell you from personal experience, capturing one is impossible. You can only cut the horn off of a dead unicorn.

So, I’m trussed up like a ... a really dangerous criminal, I guess, and all my belongings are safely in the hands of priests who are too terrified to touch any of it, let alone steal something. I don’t remember much of the trip to the holding cells. The priest nodded, and the Prime Knight, or whatever rank they held in this land, hit me with a mailed fist. My eyes glazed, my knees buckled, but I didn’t lose consciousceness.

So he hit me again.