The Old Ways by David Dalglish

Darius found himself stunned by the sheer fury in his eyes. It felt as if the air about them thickened, and no fool, Darius moved to his bedroll and lifted his greatsword into one hand. He might have trouble swinging it, but it’d be better than fighting unarmed. Jerico freed his mace.
    “Don’t make this worse, Jerico.” Kaide took a step back, among his men. “I tried to take him alive, for your sake. We still need you, but we owe this stranger nothing. He helped burn Durham to the ground, and if he is innocent, then let him plead his case to Robert, not me. I’ll take the gold. It doesn’t mean a damn thing to me if I have to buy my revenge with blood money.”
    “Move aside, Jerico,” said Adam.
    “Yeah, get on out,” added Griff.
    The two paladins shifted so they stood back to back. Jerico tilted his head, and spoke to Darius.
    “I’m sorry. I thought them my friends.”
    “So am I allowed to kill them?”
    Jerico shook his head.
    “I’d still prefer not.”
    “I think it’s up to them.”
    Darius pointed his greatsword at Kaide.
    “Move aside,” he said. “I’m leaving, tonight, and you will not stop me.”
    “Kaide,” Jerico said, and he met the brigand leader’s gaze. “Don’t do this. Don’t make me do this, not after all we’ve suffered through. You’re better than this. You know I will defend him. I don’t need my armor to bring you all down, not when I have my shield.”
    Kaide jammed his dirk back into its sheath and shook his head.
    “I told you, Jerico,” he said. “There’s no honor in our war, only justice. But for your sake...so be it.” He turned to Darius. “Leave here, tonight, as you said. I will send no man after you, so long as Jerico stays with me.”
    “You’re too kind,” Darius said.
    Kaide left, and at his absence, the rest of the men dispersed, leaving the two paladins alone at the dark edge of the camp. Darius kicked, scattering his armor, then collapsed to his knees. Jerico knelt beside him, setting aside his shield to examine Darius’s many wounds.
    “Some friends,” he said as Jerico’s hands began to glow with blue-white light.
    “Quiet.”
    Darius relaxed as the healing light shone across his arms, then plunged into his muscle. He felt a sharp snap of pain in his bones, and then it faded. He stretched the arm, the limb tight and sore, but otherwise healthy. He wished the same could be done for his mood.
    “We can’t go on like this,” Darius said.
    “Of course. We’ll both go, and find...”
    “No.” Darius shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. This bounty is absurd. No matter where we go, I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”
    “We can repaint your armor, maybe stash it on a horse or donkey.”
    “And accomplish what? What can we do when I must hide, and fear the very mention of my name? No, I’ll fix this, one way or another.”
    “How?”
    Darius leaned his sword against a tree, then began gathering his things.
    “I’m going to the Blood Tower,” he said.
    “What?”
    “I’ll speak to Sir Robert face to face. Whatever crime he believes I’ve committed, I’ll hear it with my own ears. I’ll tell him of the horrors done by Karak’s prophet in return. Either he rescinds the bounty, or I’ll...”
    “Or you’ll what?” asked Jerico.
    Darius struck the tree with his fist. The bark tore into his hand, and he clenched his teeth against the pain.
    “I don’t know how you do this,” he said, his voice lowering. “How do you expect me to leave them alone, to forgive these unjust accusers, thieves and murderers?”
    “What did you once tell me?” Jerico asked, taking Darius’s sword and offering him the hilt. “Our path is a hard one. Nothing’s changed, not with that. Mercy over vengeance. Grace over condemnation.”
    Darius drew his sword and held it before his eyes.
    “A light in the darkness,” he whispered, seeing its glow.
    He sheathed it once more, then held the rest of his things.
    “Farewell,