Farewell to Hans Capon

Afterwards, breathless and covered in sweat, we lay side by side, our shoulders lightly touching. Air slipping through parted lips hissed softly in the silence. Only minutes ago, we had been closer than I had ever thought possible. I awkwardly shifted my gaze from the dark ceiling and looked at Hans. And found him looking back at me in exactly the same way. His voice, drifting out of the shadows, broke the silence: “So… how was it? Did you like it?” The most absurd question at such an intimate moment turned out to be the most sincere one. I smiled. My thoughts suddenly drifted far away—to every roadside tavern, hidden castle chamber, and hunting lodge where we might have done this again and again. It almost felt like a wasted opportunity not to have slept together even back in the bathhouse where Klara worked. And then a simple realization struck me. I am not going to die today or tomorrow. Just as I hadn’t before. This is not a suicide mission. It is just one more assignment among many where I’ve always found myself on the edge. But this time I allowed myself to truly fear it. Because someone had appeared again whom I was genuinely afraid to lose. And because it troubled me that with this person I was so strangely close, yet still unable to put it into words. Like dry logs in a hearth, just waiting for a spark to catch… Admit it—you were never really afraid of the mission itself. You simply couldn’t bear another separation from him. “Henry?” I realized I still hadn’t answered. But what was there to say? Could I honestly put what I felt into words—and should I even try? In the end, the question had been simple. “Yes.” Hans broke into a smile in return. So happy and so uncertain at once, as if he had heard exactly what he had hoped for, yet never fully believed he would. “Good.” Just one word, and we fell back into a peaceful silence. I unconsciously moved closer, filling the space between us with the warmth of my body. “What is this feeling?” Just think about it: Žižka, Dry Devil, Kubenka, Janosh, Samuel, Musa, the defenders, the women of the fortress—we had all been trapped in this isolated castle for so long, and yet we were still alive. Still not tearing each other apart over the last scrap of food. We had come through it together, and everyone tried to help the others as best they could. You are in your place. Where you are meant to be. Among allies. In bed with someone who loves you. Like… family? Strange. So much should have separated me from Jan—rank, origin, upbringing, temperament… And at first, it did. But every step toward each other slowly turned those differences into something that now bound us together. Not war. War was what kept tearing us apart again… “It’s time, my friend.” I got up to dress. “I’ll come back.” Come back. Now I was certain of it. I glanced over my shoulder. Jan was still lying on the bed, watching me. “Friend?” Yes. I fastened my doublet and adjusted my belt. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Henry.” “Sir?” Of course. “I’ll try.” I picked up my sword and headed for the door. At that point, I no longer really cared in what role I returned to him. Only that I returned. Though as his knight in shining armor would be best of all.