Moments Passed
A Reflection on the Subtle Dangers of Failed Vigilance
by: Exegete

A lot can change in just a few moments. Moments that remain frozen forever in your brain to glare accusingly at you in the dark of the night. Only moments had passed since they had been riding along, care free, finishing a long shift on watch, riding the environs of the safest place on earth, the low hills around Camelot. How many wagons had rolled out of the early morning fog, from the merchant stalls at Neverwinter to resupply this or that department in the bustling fortress that was the home of the Knights of KORT?
No one had dared to venture this close to their walls in long years, not since the Guild was in its infancy. Yet Corwin was a harsh taskmaster and insisted that the proper guards be posted and the formal routine of patrols be observed; even here, in the safest place in the Realms. Moments, only moments had passed since the two had seen the lone covered wagon emerge from the thick grey mist and rumble, creaking in their direction. They had laughed and chuckled together over some private joke of the kind that passes between partners to lighten the burden of a long, uneventful and monotonous shift. He watched from the tower wall absently as they trotted their mounts toward the wagon and called for the driver to stop, which he did in sort order. Exegete smiled and watched as one of the pair of Squires, a female, approached the driver and conversed with him. The other, in apparent boredom, slowed walk his mount around toward the rear of the tightly covered and sealed wagon. The driver and the female Squire spoke in quiet earnest as the male drew behind the wagon, seeing the tightly closed rear flaps that Exegete could only see at a sharp angle.
Moments, only moments passed, but long enough for the intuition born of long and sad experience to raise a bright warning flag in Exegete's mind. He moved to shout warning, but he was not fast enough to prevent the rear flaps from opening or to prevent the hail of crossbow bolts from sweeping the male from his mount to the hard ground beneath. His partner raised her head in curiosity at the noise, and took two bolts herself before crashing to the ground. No noise, no hubbub, no ruckus to announce the sneak attack. Only moments passing slowly and quietly by. His shout aroused the wall Guard and quickly bolts flew back at the Wagon, which, it's heinous mission barely thwarted, beat a hasty retreat, soon to followed by the galloping garrison guard. As if in a very bad dream, the moments passed with slow clearness. Then, suddenly, all was quiet once more, saved for the fast disappearing sounds of the posse. Then again, after more slow moments, noise once more as the two wounded Squires were taken to Iser's chambers for treatment. Only moments had passed. But much had changed, even in those few moments.
She was resting comfortably when Exegete returned, unsuccessful, from his part of the chase. He and one other had branched out at a side road, but had lost the trail of the retreating assassins, and, bitterly disappointed, had retraced his steps, hoping that the larger group had had more luck. Arriving at Camelot and finding that, even after nearly a day, they had not yet returned, he went hastily up to the sick ward where he knew they would be, but dreaded finding what he thought he might find.
His feelings were bittersweet when he found, as he had expected, the male dead almost immediately, but the female awake and apparently well on the way to mending. Iser herself had tended her wounds and was hopeful about her recovery, though, she said, it was far too early to tell. Exegete stopped briefly to report to Corwin, then went to the female's room and sat down. She was awake, tho drowsy from the herbs and who knows what else Iser had prescribed and smiled as he entered. Moments passed swiftly as they talked, well, mostly as he talked, trying to say how sorry he was for not seeing the trap quickly enough. Others stopped n the room as the minutes passed by and soon there were several of her fellow Squires present.
Moments passed, and Exegete was the first to notice the shift in her color and the subtle catch that entered her breathing. Soon, she was floundering for breath and gasping like a boated fish, hungry for air. He looked helplessly as the others in the room caught her predicament and ran to the hall, calling for help. Her mouth opened a close rapidly and she grasped his hand in a vice-like grip. Pain laced her eyes and she struggled, with the strength of desperation, to draw in the air she needed so badly.
Exegete heard steps in the hallway and hope burst into his chest only to die as he looked into her eyes and saw the light fading from them as her struggle faded to quiet. She silent mouthed a last few, imploring words at him as the last flickers of life trickled away into the dry ground of death. The healer burst into the room, followed by several aides, and drew up abruptly, knowing somehow that only one other life in the room was still present. She crossed the room slowly and reverently and placed a tender hand on the girl's (for that was all she was really) forehead, then at her throat.
She sat delicately on the bedside and reached out to close her eyes, murmuring a soft prayer to guide her on her way. Exegete felt as if more decades had been added to his already heavy load of age. Only moments had passed and yet so much had changed. He left Iser to her duties and walked from the room to go to his quarters and seek out the comfort of his dear wife, Patreya.
Some hours later, he wrote solemnly in his journal. "Evil lies in wait as roaring lion, seeking such that it may devour. It sifts the unwary like wheat and can draw us away to another place in a moments time. It lurks in dark corners, seeking the moment of unawareness or of failure to set and keep our watch. Beware of evil and its devices. It will never compromise and so then, must we never compromise. The penalty for failing to watch and beware of evil's truest intention is swift and savage. Evil cannot help but be what it is. Yet it is what it is, and we must take eternal care to see that we prevent, wherever possible, that we shut it out and refuse its advances. Should we allow it entrance, let alone take it to our bosom, it will of a certainty strike us in our weakness. Vigilance and Readiness must be our welcome for the evil that is all around us. We cannot fail, I must not fail.....again...."
Moments passed, this time many, before Patreya found him at the window, weeping.