The clip clop grew a bit louder as a man presented himself on horseback. He came from within the forest. He wore tattered gold and red armour, with the King's seal. Any clothes he wore elsewhere were more like rags. The man wore no helm, showing his hollow eyes and shaggy beard. His cheeks were a bit hollow and eyes that threw semi circular shadows down his face. He had grey hair turning to white.

Wilbur took a moment to recognise the face," Sir Florent?"

"So there are some who still recognise me?" Despite his appearance, Sir Florent had a deep heavy voice. His horse moved a bit in front such that Sir Florent was now directly in front of Wilbur.

Exile Knights. Those exiled by the King.

Wilbur knew the plight of these warriors. They were the ones who had defied the King, or at least the King was of the mind that they had defied him. Meaning many times it was filthy plotting and power politics that led the men here. Many were exiled without trial. Wilbur vaguely remembered Sir Florent from the time he was still in training at the Capital City. He was the one who went into voluntary exile, just to prove the King wrong. There was little the King could do to change that situation. Sir Florent was in the higher ranks of the military after all, greatly respected throughout the Empire. Sir Florent then nobly retreated to the forest, his honour intact. It was natural to assume the exiled in the forest assembled under him.

"It seems I know who you are. Do you know who I am?" inquired Wilbur.

Sir Florent remained silent. The sky had now turned to shades of black. Sir Florent's horse gave a low neigh. Moments passed before Sir Florent replied," It makes no matter; I no longer serve the King. All we wish for is that you help us. Leave all the food you have, and a few spare weapons, and get going. We do not wish to cause any unnecessary casualties." Sir Florent's voice seemed to boom through the forest for all to hear.

A silence then roared over the forest. Wilbur kept his gaze fixed on Sir Florent while keeping his ears open to the woods around. There was an occasional rustling here and there, all around them. He knew there were many exile warriors around these woods. He knew Sir Florent had spoken no hollow words.

"Why the delay? Do you not wish to accept my request?" demanded Sir Florent.

Wilbur then looked around him. He saw shapes in the woods. His estimation was fifty men. Trained archers. Probably more than half of The White Capes already had targets on their heads. And Sir Florent was from higher ranks. Meaning he knew alchemy. In fact, if his lost reputation was to be trusted, he surpassed Rhugh in combat skill. Wilbur would barely be able to engage Sir Florent, maybe hold him back long enough at the most. And if push came to shove, most of The White Capes stood no chance. They were trapped like rats in a cage.

"Sir Florent, for I respect you such. I will repeat my question. Do you know who I am?" Wilbur looked at Sir Florent with a steady gaze. Sir Florent stared back with his tired eyes.

Wilbur wondered how the man had dropped so low. Then realisation hit him. He knew the forest barely had enough to sustain men, in terms of food. There were many occasions where the exiles robbed travellers of their food and resources. But Sir Florent was a skilled knight. Hunting in a forest would be child's play for him. But if it was only for him.

He is doing this for his fellow exile warriors. He has kept his honour at the stake, shared his mead.

Wilbur found renewed respect for the man.

"You must be Wilbur of The White Capes, judging from your group and White battle armors," replied Sir Florent.

He must have heard the rumours.

"We do not serve the King either. I am sure you must also know that?"

Wilbur imagined the scenario where they gave up all their food and weapons. It would only cost them a week's training. Not like they would die in a week without food. They could hunt as well and Artinopolis would replenish them with Dolin paying for the meals. It was certainly manageable.

Sir Florent asked," Your point being?"

Judging from his tone, Wilbur realised he did not care much. He knew well enough he had the situation under control.

Maybe it's his lost honour that makes him put his expressionless mask.

"Well, we The White Capes, will gladly accept your request, and offer you any help you need. Food you require? Our food is yours. Weapons? We have a few. But," Wilbur raised a finger." I would like to explain the meaning, why I used the word 'gladly' here."

Sir Florent raised his head. Wilbur took that as 'continue' sign. His horse gave a low neigh for the second time.

That is one restless beast.

"I know how you are treated as exiles. But you are exiles for the King and for the people who follow the King. We on the other hand, are not under the King. We see you just as fellow men in need of our help. And so help we must."

Sir Florent took a deep breath," Very well then. I will repay the debt someday if the chance arises."

Wilbur noticed how he used the word I instead of we as he had done before.

What a selfless man! He took the debt upon himself while he asks only for his companions.

Wilbur pointed at the cart," Sir Florent that may be the extent of your request. But I have something more to offer."

Wilbur paused. The air seemed to have grown colder. If it was just the night that had grown cold or the situation demanded such, Wilbur knew not.

"Sir Florent let me be a bit more open. I know how you are treated like an exile, a human lower than others. Left to rot in the forest. You put your hard earned and well deserved honour on the line to commit to petty crimes as theft for your companions who have, unlawfully in most cases, shared the same fate as you."

Sir Florent flinched. 

"While we The White Capes," Wilbur spread his arms."May be the first ones after your voluntary exile to treat you as an equal. For we follow no false King. We follow The White God. And The White God spread his blessing equally around him, to both the fallen and the blessed. He saw no difference in men. Hence, I see no difference between you and me. Nor does any man here. The White God illuminates our path.

"To say you are exiled, to treat your own self as an exile, means but one thing. You still are under the rule of the King. You are under the part of what the King considers 'exile'.

"But Sir! You do not have to follow a false King," Wilbur's voice boomed through the forest. He was sure the fifty men were able to hear him as well. His tone grew louder with each line.

"You do not need to live this life any more.

"You do not have to follow a King who has been proven wrong on a multitude of factors.

"The act of following a false King itself is an act that consists of no honour."

Sir Florent's eyes widened at the realisation.

"You must ask your own self, is this what you want?

"Is this what your companions had wished for?"

Wilbur thought he saw a faint glint of a tear in Sir Florent's sunken eyes.

"I, Wilbur Glidron of The White Capes, have more to offer you than food, supplies or even honour."

He moved his right hand forward as if he was wading through invisible water. The Gladinstone Blade unsheathed itself, shining a pure White at it rose exactly parallel to the trees around. The blade positioned itself higher than Wilbur. Sir Florent's horse gave another low neigh as it lowered its head a bit. The White glow shone bright in that dark night.

"I offer you freedom."

Author's Note: Thank you for reading!

I just wanted to give a little reminder, I divide the chapter according to 1k word limit rather than section breaks for ease of reading of Wattpad readers. Most of the times I try that the chapter breaks coincide with the section breaks. But it may not always be possible as in this chapter. The section breaks are denoted by ****.

Feel free to vote/comment or review, if you liked the chapter! :)