Part of me wondered what it meant. To be in the presence of a dead, talking man. The smarter part of me shoved it aside. I'd never had the luxury of contemplating odd situations. I certainly didn't have it then.

Not with it standing just three meters from me, a hawk circling a domesticated field mouse. 

Maybe he hadn't died. But I rejected that idea because I knew he had.

Just as I knew the man from the window had been dead when I saw him laying in an alleyway from the safe distance of my carriage. But again, it didn't matter. I wasn't safe even if he were alive. Perhaps it was better that he wasn't. I'd still be just as cornered.

I stood slowly, taking advantage of the time its odd behavior afforded me. I felt the night wind barreling into the wooden walls behind me. It had nowhere to go and swept the mess of waves atop my head in every direction. 

"So you talk." My voice sounded distant to my own ears. 

It began to weep, its head twitching. "Heh-heh-hehlppp me--" The words dragged on the vowels, the words distorted, breathless and echoing from behind his helmet. Too large for him. "P-pleaseeee."

Maybe it was trying to deceive me. If it was attempting to pull at some morsel of sympathy from me, it would find none.

I swallowed thickly before thinking of my next steps. I knew I should gather my bearings. I'd had no idea how long I had been running and perhaps that was the least important part. It wasn't advancing. I'd be a fool not to try my hand at escape now.

I took one step to the side but its head snapped up at me. The black vent of the knight's helmet pierced into me, pinning me in place. There was no more weeping. Only the menacing stalk of a predator remained. 

I would die if I moved. 

We were petrified, but only one of us in fear. I saw the shadows of the clouds sweep over it. Then they enveloped my only witness. Strained croaks and wheezes tumbled out of its mouth, and I knew my time was up. There would be no more stillness. 

I bolted to the right of it as it twitched sporadically. Then I heard it take off after me a second later with one repeating phrase echoing into the night.

"Help!" he cried as his footsteps thumped after me.

I wove through the large oak trees and fumbled through short berry bushes.

"Help!"

One of my legs stuttered, burning and aching, but I pushed on.

My lungs rasped for breath. I sounded like one of them.

"Help!" he screamed. Closer.

The rot closed in, grabbing me by the arm and then---

The sickening squelch of meat being butchered. Then a thump as it hit the ground.

I looked back at it. Black blood pooled into the soil from the clean cut at its neck. Right under the line of his helmet. My mind felt removed from my body. Just as its head now was.

The grip he had on me loosened. His hand extended towards me. Just as he had reached for me, when he first spoke. His hand fell back with his headless body, thudding beside its severed head.

Sir James stood behind it, his sword drawn and drenched in black blood. He was as still as a statue except for the panting of his breath. 

"Miss Reginald," He said, "Are you alright?" He spoke quietly and gently.

I couldn't piece together this him and the one that cleanly severed a knight's head off. It was frightening, knowing that there was only a sliver of area around the helmet and chest plate. 

That this foolish man had cleanly struck it.

But---

He spoke coherent words. Not a breathless stutter. He wasn't one of them. It shook me from my stupor. I slumped to the ground, my legs tired. "Why are you here?" was all I asked. I didn't know what else to say. 

"I heard it," he said. He must have been talking about its cry for help. 

He leaned back against a thick tree and regained his breath, "You lot were running mighty fast. This old fart really had to push himself." He cracked a smile that I didn't return. "Sir Klent was fast too---" He stopped. His expression fell like snow melts into water.

Sir James took a deep breath, glanced at the dead boy with a steel I had only known for a day, and then looked away. 

Cruelly, I wondered why he struggled to look away now. He had already done so once before. He had made his choice back in the dining hall. He had looked away from his men once before.

And I was alive because of it. Again. 

He regained his composure after a moment then Sir James kneeled at my level and offered his hand. I looked away from it and got to my feet slowly, ignoring the burn in my muscles. "I owe you." I said the words through gritted teeth. I lived only because of him.

And that burned me. 

Unaware of the rage simmering beneath my skin, he answered, "Nonsense. You call for me, I'm there." As if I should be glad. Grateful.

An emptiness settled alongside the rage. I wouldn't. Didn't want to. Didn't need to.

I told myself I had nearly died because I had waited by the window for too long, looking on like a child at the destruction. That was the reason. 

I told myself I should've taken off before Sir James emerged from it, or before the rest of those things came. I made a mistake and I nearly died because of it. I was disappointed. Angry. With myself. I promised myself I wouldn't make that mistake again.

I wouldn't need saving again. 

"I don't need you," I said. Then I turned my back to him and it--- Sir Klent... the boy knight.

Sir James didn't answer or refute me, he only followed behind me as I walked through the forest. Silent.

I was unaware of where I went. But I had to run in some way.