Jonathan Paulson
Long Live Chivalry
“My Lord Cardigan! We must fall back.”
“No, Michael. I shall not yield an inch of ground to these dishonorable dogs. If
they wish to take this ground, they shall fight for it!”
“But, my lord, we are outnumbered nearly 3 to 1–”
“It would not matter if they outnumbered us a thousandfold. We will fight. Honor
demands no less.”
“Honor, my lord? Honor will do us no good when we lie dead on this battlefield.
It will not comfort our wives and children when they hear of our fates; it will not feed
them in the chill of winter. Honor is a luxury we can no longer afford.”
“Honor a luxury?! Remember your oaths, Michael: Veneratio est vita. Honor is
life. To run now, like cowards, would only embolden the enemy and dishearten our men.
We must have faith that our cause is righteous, that the Lord will provide in our time of
need.”
“It has been my observation that, in battle, numbers prevail over nobility, my lord.
My lord, we are the last. There will be no reserve come to snatch us from the jaws of
death. And our force cannot hope to stand against the dark host ahead. If we make our
stand here, we are finished.”
Cardigan sighed, and responded angrily “Bah. I expected better of you, my friend.
I hoped that you might remember for what we fight. But you are too concerned with
swords and men to understand the meaning of honor. This discussion is over. We fortify,
and we shall make our stand on the morrow, whatever it may bring. If it is God’s will that
we die here, so be it. And if He wants us to prevail, we shall, whatever gloom you
prophesy. Come, there is much to be done!”
“No.”
“What?!”
“You heard me, Cardigan.”
“That’s Lord Cardigan to you. You will stand here and fight with honor, and you
will obey the command of your lord.” Suddenly, Cardigan’s fury subsided, and the
mighty knight suddenly seemed little more than a tired old man. “Michael, please…I
need your aid. If we can win here…”
“You’ve heard nothing of what I’ve said! You are mad! I’m sorry, Cardigan, but
I’m leaving. Please, come with me…we might still win.”
And suddenly, just as swiftly as it had been lost, Cardigan’s commanding
presence returned: “Skulk into the shadows like some common thief? Never! Honorless
coward! Leave my presence, treacherous one.”
“So be it. May God have mercy on your soul.” Angrily, Lord Michael strode out
of the command tent to address his soldiers: “Men! Lord Cardigan has decided to split the
army. We’ll split around and attack the enemy’s supply lines while Cardigan’s forces
make their stand here. God willing, they will hold out long enough for us to cut them off.”
The sound of horses suddenly filled the area.
Tears streaked down the face of Lord Cardigan, still inside the command tent, but
he brushed them off with an impatient wave of his hand. Angrily, he whispered, “Michael,
you offered God’s mercy to me. But I think it is you who shall need it. The Lord does not
smile upon cowards and oathbreakers. Alas that it has come to this.” Controlling both his
sorrow and his anger, Lord Cardigan strode out of his tent and addressed his remaining
warriors: “Men! Fortify this position. We may all perish on the morrow, but if we do, let
us die well, with chivalry and with honor. And let them pay dearly in blood for every
inch of this hallowed ground!”
“My lord Michael!”
“Calm down, my good man. You look as though you’ve had quite a ride.
And…you’re bleeding from half a dozen wounds. Some of those look serious. We need
to get you to the medic!”
“No…my lord…Cardigan…the battle.”
“I know. I knew the moment Cardigan started talking of honor. The damned fool.”
“We nearly had them, my lord. Their lines nearly faltered before our valiant
defense, but there were so many of them… Just a few more men…”
“No. You were hopelessly outnumbered. A few more men would have made no
difference. You were not in a position to see the entire battle; you could not have known
that. But enough! You are bleeding heavily, speaking wildly…you need to get to the
medic.”
“So close…a few more men…”
“Damn! Someone get in here and give this man a decent burial. He died with
honor, and with courage. It is sacrifices like his, sacrifices that we must all make, that
will save our land. Let us all honor this man, for he died a hero.” And as Michael walked
out of the room towards the chapel, none heard him whisper: “But he died nonetheless.”