Knight Commander Simone Du Bas subconsciously sped up mount the closer he got to his destination, the small province of Millers Crossing, and the last known location of his friend Sir Jerrad. His friend had been dispatched here many months before, after it was discovered that there had been no word from the local garrison.

The Trollock wars had taken there toll throughout the realm, and some areas had fallen through the cracks. This was one such place. It had long been an area of little importance to any wishing conquest, and thus, was never in much danger. When it was learned that no word had been received from the Lord of the garrison, Sir Jerrad had been dispatched to find the cause. His only task was to see what the problems were and report back. That was half a year past.

Commander Du Bas hurried his column of fully fifty knights, enough to repopulate the garrison if needs be. With no word from his friend, Simone was sure this would be the case. As they rode through the countryside he saw the remnants of battles, and at the same time, new buildings, and crop. It appeared that something indeed had happened. These sights only set his mind to reeling even more. Again he sped up his column.

His column entered Millers Crossing to muted cheers and bows of respect from the inhabitants. Everything seemed normal except for one detail, all the inhabitants were armed. Not normal for a farming community. He rode straight through town and headed for the garrison. He spied it from a distance and knew in an instant that it had been razed to the ground. Seeing no smoke, he knew this to be old damage, still on they rode to see what they could.

The damage was almost complete. It would take many months to get it into any sort of useful condition. Simone needed answers about how this happened, and about his friend. He left all but his personal guard to survey the damages and make assessments as to how much and how long it would take to get the garrison back into shape. He would ride into town and get the answers he so desperately wanted.

He galloped into town and headed for the one place he knew all he questions might be answered, an Inn they’d passed going through town the first time, The Yellow Rose. As they approached the Inn, the adults on the streets retreated into the buildings, and they young appeared through the same doors. All headed for the Inn. As he dismounted, a young lad of no more than ten took the reins and offered to feed and groom his mount. He looked into the child’s eyes an saw only a need to help, and so allowed this. His personal guard received the same treatment.

As he entered the Inn three of the five guard stayed outside on match, the other two accompanied there lord. Word of there approach had reached the Inn before they entered, for a table was set with food, drink, and a spokesman.

Simone walked straight to the table and sat. His guards stood so that they might watch the room.

Removing his riding gloves slowly, but deliberately, Simone was choosing his words. The spokesman sat mute through the whole time, knowing what was to come. Simone finally finished removing the gloves and slapped them in his palmed to start the conversation.

"The Garrison?"

"Destroyed, Milord." reported the towns spokesman looking the Knight Commander straight in the eyes.

"The men?"

"All dead Milord, rest their souls." He replied, still looking Simone straight in the eyes.

Simone tried hard to keep his demeanor. He’d seen too much death these past few years.

"Sir Jerrad?" he asked trying to keep the dread from his voice.

The spokesman looked away this time! Why Simone wondered. He’d not batted an eye when telling of the garrison and it’s men.

The spokesman never answered, only motioned for the Commander to follow. They left the Inn and walked towards the city square. When they arrived, the spokesman only pointed. What Simone saw there was a stone in the shape of a shield surrounded by flowers, with an inscription: "A Knight Sleeps here"

"We knew not his name Milord." the spokesman said when he saw the look in the Commanders eyes.

"How did he die?" Simone asked through clenched teeth, trying for with all his might to stay calm. This was to have been a fact finding mission only, no danger involved!

"Tis a long story Milord, one better suited for the Inn." Answered the spokesman slowly.

"Now. Here." Was Simone’s only reply.

"It was after the garrison had been overtaken by the bandits, how we know not Milord. But all the same, it was done. We sent for help many times, but none arrived. The bandits had taken complete control of the town and the surrounding countryside. If any resisted, they were hung and left for all to see."

"Again we sent for help, and again, no answer. We knew not if the messengers ever got through or not. As time went on, we became ever more under the bandits control. They lived in our homes, took our wives and daughters! Burned crops and slaughtered our livestock! And still no help from the mighty Knights sworn to protect us."

"After awhile we became used to the treatment we received. We performed whatever we were ordered to do. We hated this but had no choice, we were farmers, not soldiers."

As the spokesman continued his tale, Simone noticed the people had returned to the streets and were surrounding the square, listening to the tale.

"The bandits had such control that they eventually moved out of the town and away to the north. Leaving only a handful of men behind to ensure our cooperation. A few still tried to fight. Their homes were burned and families slaughtered. Till finally, we ceased all resistance entirely. Twas better to submit than to be destroyed as the garrison and it’s men."

"One day a Knight rode into town. A single Knight! The sight of a single Knight come to our rescue enraged us! Were we so unimportant that only a single Knight could be spared! He was met with contempt, I am ashamed to say. He was told of the circumstances and told to leave. He was refused even care for his mount." He said while averting his eyes from the Knight Commander, after a moment he returned to his tale.

"He inquired as to the whereabouts of these rebels. Fearing for our lives, we refused to answer even this request. He was but one Knight, and surely would die and bring about retribution upon us. We chased him out of town, Milord. We give no excuses, only that you might look at it from our point of view."

"He had been gone but two or three days when a large group of rebels arrived to question us about some deaths that had occurred in their camp. After killing two people, my wife included," the spokesman stopped to take a deep breath, "they were satisfied that we had nothing to do with the killings and left. But not before they doubled their presence here."

"The killings continued, the rebels became increasingly agitated. Rumors started to circulate about that maybe the Knight with no name, for we never gave him time to introduce himself, might be killing the rebels. These rumors were kept from them, for we wished not to endanger him, if he be the one responsible."

"Still on the killings went till the rebels moved into the garrison for protection. But this stopped not the killings. The nameless Knight had become a phantom in the night. But still no one ever saw him, only the tracks of his horse. The tracks told of a heavy war-horse as that which he rode. People actually started refusing the rebels again, only this time there were no killings in retribution! The rebels were afraid of the phantom."

"One night, a great battle raged in the garrison! All manner of fire and explosions rang out across the countryside. The next morning the rebels came into town in force. They killed two people for everyone of theirs that had perished the night before. We lost four and twenty that day, before they once again retreated into their sanctuary."

"We once again retreated into our cowardice over these new reprisals. That night it was confirmed that the nameless Knight was indeed the phantom. For he approached a farmers home late, wounded and in need of healing. Sadly, he was met with the same treatment as before."

Simone was outraged!

"You refused him again!" Simone’s mind was white hot in anger. Aftre calming his exterior, he asked that the tale be completed.

"The Knight thanked the farmer for his time and wished him well, before departing into the night. The phantom once again. The farmer raced into town to inform us of what he had seen. We immediately had a meeting to decide what to do. There were equal amounts on both sides. One side wanting to help, the other, to stay out of the fight hoping that more would arrive to aid the Knight, and leave us to our own lives. I know this may seem outrageous to you. But you must remember, we are a simple people and not trained in warfare. To go into battle outnumbered and unready was too terrible a thought."

"The nightly battles continued every few nights. And the reprisals continued too! Then one day, the Knight rode into town, in the full light of day. He announced his intention of giving himself up that the reprisals would stop. He said he had not known of them until that day. He asked not for forgiveness, for he knew we would not. He merely stated he had done only what he did to aid in our gaining our freedom."

"He handed me this," the spokesman produced a metal tube, which he handed to Simone. Simone took it quickly to see if it indeed was from his friend. There on the cap was his seal. He quickly broke the seal and removed the parchment.

It was from his friend, and told of his exploits to obtain the release of these people. He had indeed tried to use superstition to aid in his deception. He also stated that he knew the wars would keep the help these people so desperately needed from them, so he had decided to stay and fight. He was sorry for the reprisals and had decided that the only way to stop them was to turn himself in.

Simone reinserted the parchment into the tube and looked back to the spokesman.

"As he made his way slowly towards the garrison the people flooded into the square. The sight of the Knight, dressed as if he were to meet a king, so disturbed the folk they came to see what was the matter."

"The story was related to all there. An uproar went through the crowd! How could he do this, some yelled. Others still said it was about time. These, were promptly chased from the square. It was time to take a stand. This Knight had done what he did to help us and we aided him not, twice! We would not make it three. The whole of the town raced to get whatever they had tucked away. A sword here and there, many axes, hoes, and anything sharp or heavy. We ran as fast as we could to the garrison."

"When we arrived at the garrison there were yells of joy and merriment coming from the open gate. Those inside had begun to drink and celebrate the end of their evening bouts with the phantom."

"When we entered the gate, we saw what we will never forget. There, in the center of the courtyard was the Knight, hanging from a rope, his hands not even tied! He had not put up a fight at all!" The spokesman had to fight the tears that had begun to fall.

"This so enraged the peoples of the town that we razed the garrison to the ground! We left nothing living! The Knight had so devastated their ranks that they were no match for us. When it was done, we cut down the Knight and brought him from that place. We laid him to rest here."

"We knew not his name, only the symbol upon his tunic, a yellow rose. We knew this to be important to him. This is why his resting place has that flower all about." The spokesman looked to his left a nodded. From the stables a horse was being led their direction. It was Sir Jerrad’s mount. Tied onto the saddle was the armor which Simone himself had presented his friend upon his Knighting, and his sword and shield.

"These are all that we could find of his." The spokesman said, pointing to the horse and it’s load.

"We, stand ready to accept whatever punishment you see fit Milord. We have prepared ourselves for this day for many months."

Simone looked upon the spokesman in shock! Could this man think that he would have them executed!

"You do me and Sir Jerrad a dishonor by those words! Do you think us no better than those whom caused his death, and the deaths of so many in your town?" Simone stopped to calm himself.

"I am sorry for my harsh words. You have been treated badly in the past. I have Knights enough to be sure you are safe in the future. There will be no retributions. No payments, no anything. Sir Jerrad was a personal friend of mine and a great Knight. I am honored that his final resting place was one that meant enough to him to die for. I only demand that his resting place be kept in this condition. I wish for the square to cleared for a time now, that I and my fellow Knights might say our thanks to Sir Jerrad. We shall speak again later."

The crowd slowy moved away, as the knights surrounded the final resting place of Sir Jerrad. It wasn’t long before the whole of the fifty Knights arrived to pay there respects.

The Knight Commander related the whole of the tale to his fellow knights, including the reading of the message left for whoever arrived to help these folk.

For those watching through windows and half open doors, they where met with a sight that would stay with them their entire lives. A sight that only solidified the shame they felt in themselves, one that they would try till their dying days to repay. Fifty-one Knights, kneeling, sword in hand, crying.

From that day forth, a detail of two Knights patrolled the resting place of a knight whose name was never inscribed upon his stone. It merely reads, "A Knight Sleeps Here"