The Warden

Chapter 4

Masis sat by the door, waiting. One minute he would grin and chuckle to himself. The next he would hang his head, rubbing the back of his neck, all the while a grimace twisted his mouth into unnatural shapes.

They had left him there. He had left him there.

When the match had concluded and the shouts and cheers had died away, Casm had surrendered Ava back to him, thanking him profusely. Masis had waved it all away, springing up into the saddle. His other teammates had done the same. Everyone except Casm. His own horse still had the issue of having thrown a shoe.

And that is when it had hit him. The idea, the scheme, the prank. Why not make him walk back?

Sitting in his saddle, the brine of sweat rising to Masis' nostril with every creak of the leather, he had praised the champion of the match as he stood before him and his mounted compatriots. Everyone had cheered. He had extolled Casm as their best player. Again, cheers had gone up. Then Masis had grown more contemplative and the rest had gone silent waiting for the next invitation to cheer.

"I think our champion deserves a special recognition for his feat," Masis had said, winking to either side of himself. Some caught on faster than others. "A procession of honor leading to the victory luncheon is what the situation calls for I would say."

A general murmur of agreement arose from his teammates.

"But are any of us truly worthy to ride alongside someone so prestigious?" Masis had asked. Mock sincerity cloyingly present in every syllable.

Those that had caught on shook their heads with downcast eyes and near comical frowns.

"Well, I suppose we had better leave him to all his glory then. Shouldn't we?"

By then everyone had gotten the drift and nodded their ascent. Casm stood there with a slack face.

"You lot have to be joking," he had said. He had glanced at each in turn. None had said anything. "You wouldn't."

Again, no reply. Some had smirked. Others had averted their gaze sheepishly.

"Oh, I can't believe you. You'd leave me here after I won the game for you?"

"We're not leaving you," Masis had said innocently. "We are honoring you. But please, don't take too long with your honor. We want to start the luncheon in no more than an hour."

With that he had spurred Ava into motion, drawing the rest of the team after him.

Now, sitting there on the smooth bench growing up out of the floor, Masis pondered how mischievous pride and chagrin could exist within him simultaneously. Of course, the co-habitation was not peaceful. His insides twisted about never letting him sit completely comfortably. A knock at the massive main doors kept him from plummeting back into his mind.

"Who is at my door?" Masis called through the wood. "Friend? Foe? Or neither of the two?"

"I am friend to all within." Casm's voice though muffled from the door was easily recognizable as well as the sarcasm that colored it.

During the day, throughout most of Haimlant, it was customary for the person answering the door to open it. If one wanted to be extremely formal and maybe a touch cheeky—Masis' mischievous side winning out—he or she went on.

"If friend, test your truth upon my threshold's strength. If enemy, withdraw or test your strength upon my sword. If neither, meet me upon the stoop that I may find you friend or foe."

History said that the elaborate door ceremony had started not long after night wights had first come into being. Supposedly, they could not cross the threshold of anyone's abode unless expressly bidden to do so. And while everyone knew the exchange's extended version, few these days used it because almost no one went out at night and no one knocked on another's door during those hours.