Knight Fall (The Champion Chronicles Book 1) (25 page)

The sun had climbed high above, casting the full heat of the summer upon them.  There would be no more cool days for several months.  The nights would still be pleasant, but the mid-day heat would get even more oppressive.  Princess Elissa was dressed for warm weather in a light and thin gown.  Her hair was tied behind her head, which she rarely did.  It hung in one thick strand down the middle of her back.

Conner stepped forward from the shade of the stairwell and she turned to him.  No smile, but no angered look, either.

“Princess,” Conner said with a slight bow.

“You look well,” she said approvingly.

He had finally found some clothes that fit him.  They weren’t the silky bright colors that the other courtiers like to wear, but they also weren’t the rough scratchy wool tunics and leggings that the squires were provided.  His tunic was soft and comfortable, loose fitting, but not baggy.  It made him feel… normal.

“What are you doing?”  He wasn’t sure how to start the conversation.  He was nervous and his palms were sweaty.

“Are we really going to war?” she asked.

“Yes," he answered.  "Well, not everyone.  But most.”

“The Guard, too?”

“Some.  Most of the Royal Guard will stay here.  And some of the older knights as well to help train the army.  And then they will march north with them.  But the rest of the knights, they will be riding out in a few days.”

After a moment, she asked, “You?”

Conner turned away from her and leaned over the chest-high battlements so he could avoid looking at her.  “No.  Not me.”

“You sound sad,” Elissa said.  "As if you want to go war."

“Those that I have trained with over the past few months are going to war," Conner replied with an irritated tone.  "And I am staying back.  I should be with them.”

“I’m glad you’re staying,” she said.  She turned to him, and he turned to look at her.  She smiled at him, and he gave her a weak smile back.  “Walk with me,” she said.

He did as he was asked.  She led him down the steep stairs within the tower, across the courtyard that was filled with wagons, and through the castle gates.  Conner had not spent much time in the city.  With training both as a squire and with Master Goshin, there was little time for sightseeing.  Stopping just past the gate, he looked out at the city and for the first time took in what he saw.  From atop the tallest tower, the entire city could be seen.  But even though the castle was on the highest ground above the city, from where they stood, they still could only see a smart part of the city.  They city had evolved over time.  The buildings and houses closest to the castle were the oldest.  They were smaller and tended to continually be on the verge of falling down.  The stone that made the walls were crumbling and always in a constant state of repair.  As one walked away from the castle, and towards the city walls, the buildings became taller and more elaborate.  Many of the larger buildings were constructed from stone blocks carved from a quarry upstream of the Tyre River.  The stone masons had taken their time with those buildings, adding art to the architecture.  But like all cities, there were good parts and bad parts.  Even some of the newer parts of the city were not good places to walk after dark.

Elissa started to walk away, but Conner was not following.  He seemed to be frozen, stuck in a place that he was not familiar with.  Finally, she grabbed his hand and pulled him along.  He didn’t bother trying to release his hand from hers, nor did she try and let go.  They walked for some time through the streets of South Karmon, hand in hand.

Their first stop was one of the many open air markets.  It seemed to be filled with as many vendors as there were patrons.   Conner felt a bit claustrophobic in the crush of people, but Princess Elissa kept his hand in hers with a tight grip.  She led him straight to an old woman selling fruit.  They chatted briefly about the weather, then about the woman’s sick husband.  The princess ended up buying a small sack of apples.

“Do you not fear being here, alone?” Conner asked.

“But I am not alone,” the princess said.  She nodded in greeting to several passers-by.  “I am here with you.  And what would I have to be afraid of?”

“Well, it was just a few months ago that you were kidnapped, almost killed…”

She squeezed his hand and let out a childish giggle.  “My silly champion.  The festival is fresh in the minds of these people.  They saw you.  They saw what you did.  They should be afraid of you.”

“I am nothing,” Conner said.  "A peasant boy."

Elissa playfully squeezed his upper arm and then patted him on the chest.  “You are hard, full of muscle.  You are no boy.”

Conner let her lead them through the city.  At first he thought she was giving him a tour of the city.  Partly because her path seemed to have no reason to it and partly because she spent most of the time talking about the city.  They passed several more markets, one with fresh fish that seemed to have been sitting out in the sun a bit too long.  They quickly moved past and tried to stay as up-wind from the fish market as they could.  But their seemingly random path suddenly came to a stop near the northwestern wall.  The homes of this part of the city could hardly be called houses.  They were built from scraps and leftovers.  Many did not have any doors and some were lacking a solid roof.  He had never realized that there were homes like this in the city.  He had always thought everyone in the city was wealthy and had a good home to live in.  Some of the homes around his village fell apart after time.  Sometimes it was after a big storm.  Sometimes just because the house was old and the wood rotted.  But when that happened, there was always a neighbor or someone to help rebuild the house.  Conner realized it was probably easier to rebuild a house in the woods than in the middle of a city.

“Come,” Elissa said, standing in the doorway of a nearby shack.  There was no door, only a tattered blanket to act as one.

The house had a single room and smelled of sweaty and dirty bodies.  There was little in the room other than a table with two chairs, one of them had only three legs.  A pile of blankets was tossed into a corner of the room.  She moved towards the blankets and as she neared, the blankets started to move.  A small ashen-white face appeared from underneath the blankets.

Elissa leaned down and whispered to the small girl.  “Mary?  How are you feeling?”

The young girl’s eyes lit up when she recognized who was talking to her.  “Elissa!” the young girl said excitedly.

Elissa rubbed the girls face, pushing the matted hair off her forehead.  “You look tired.”

“I was outside yesterday,” the little girl replied.

“Mary!” Elissa said in a sweet, but scolding tone.

“It was the festival.  I had to see," Mary explained.

“See?  See what?" Elissa asked.

“I wanted to see you in your dress that you were telling me about.  The one that you had made for the ball.  Did you dance with him?  Is that him?”  The girl looked up at Conner and smiled.

“Hello,” Conner said.

“Did she dance with you?  Are you Conner?  You look like him.  Big and strong.  Just like she described.”

Elissa’s face turned red.  Conner gave her a wide smile.  “Princess Elissa talked about me?” he asked.

“She says I can call her Elissa because we are friends.  Are you really Conner?” the little girl asked.

“Yes I am,” Conner replied.

“She talks about you all the time,” Mary said with a giggle.

Conner glanced at Elissa with a raised eyebrow.  Then he asked the little girl, “What does she say about me?”

“Okay,” Elissa said, interrupted.  “That’s about enough!  Mary, you ask too many questions!  Are you hungry?”

The girl shook her head.  “Momma made me porridge for lunch.  It was good.”

Elissa rubbed the side of the girls face again.  “You are tired.  You should rest.”

Mary rolled over onto her side and pulled the blankets up tight.  “Okay,” she said in a near whisper.  “Will you sing to me?”

"Of course," Elissa said.  She closed her eyes and began to sing.  Conner sat on the ground and watched Elissa.  Her eyes were closed, and her soft, red lips brought magic to their ears.  For several minutes the princess went through the song, until the breathing of the little girl settled down and she was fast asleep.  Letting the song fade, Elissa carefully bent over Mary and touched her lips to the little girl's forehead.  With a last glance, she backed out of the house.

Conner stopped Elissa just outside the door.  “Who is that?”

Elissa looked around at the houses.  “She is just one of the sick. My father is a good man, but he never leaves his castle.  He rules from the hill and never sees what I see.”  Tears had filled her eyes.  “There are so many like Mary.  She will likely never see ten years old.  The sickness can spread so quickly.”

“So do something,” Conner said.

Elissa shook her head.  “There is not much to do.  I come here…”

“But you are the princess, surely there is something you can do.” Conner said.

“There are too many of them.”  She waved her hands and turned around.  “I can’t help them all.”

“There has to be something.  Have you talked to your father?”

“He does not understand.  He barely listens to me when I talk to him about it.”  She brushed off her dress.  “Come there are others.”

“Others?  Like Mary.”

Elissa stopped and looked at the ground.  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears.  “No.  They are worse.”

***

Conner sat outside on the stump of tree.  He wished that the tree was still there as it would have given him shade.  But he had to settle with just not being on his feet any more.  It wasn’t long before Elissa came out, gave the mother a hug, a peck on the cheek, and sat on the stump next to him.

“I’m sorry,” Conner said softly, wishing he could have stomached just one more visit.  But he couldn’t.  The little boy in the broken down house was too young, too sick, and too close to dying.

“No, I should have told you what I was doing today.  I was feeling lonely and just wanted to have some company.”

“How often do you do this?” Conner asked.

“I try to do it every day.”

Conner was amazed.  “Really?  Everyday?”

“It’s not like I have a whole lot of other stuff to do.  But, it makes me feel…close to everyone.  To walk among them.  To talk to them.  I like them, and I hope they like me, to," Elissa said.

“They do," Conner replied.  "I can tell.  They don’t treat you like a princess.  They treat you better.”

Elissa looked at him with a confused look.  “What does that mean?”

“When I was growing up, the king, his knights.  You.  Everyone in royalty was something that I could never be close to.  The king is so powerful and so…full of awe that I could hardly realize what it meant.  I could never image actually meeting the king, or talking to him.  And you, the princess, the same way.  These people, they don’t treat you like far off royalty, they treat you like their friend.  You have their respect because of what you do and because you care.”

“I’m just trying to do what is right.”

Conner put an arm around her shoulders.  “And that is why you will be an excellent queen.”

She leaned into him and his arm pulled her tightly into him.  Her head fell on his shoulder and she let out a long sigh.  "I may be queen someday, but I will still be only queen to my king."

"I was so wrong about you," Conner said.  "When the time comes, you will make a great leader of this kingdom."

"You are a silly boy, Conner," she said.  "I am but a girl.  I could never lead this kingdom."

He let her last statement go.  There was no point in arguing it with her.  Indeed their culture did not allow for a queen to lead the kingdom, but Conner knew in his heart that she had what it took.  For a long time, they sat upon the stump, watching the city.

And the city watched back, seeing their beloved princess being comforted by a young man.  A young man who was just like them.  Not a knight.  Or a noble.  He did not come from a royal blood line.  He came from the same stock that everyone else came from.

They watched back with hope.

Chapter Twenty

Marik had killed before.  He was trained on how to do it in many ways.  He just didn’t like doing it.  It helped that the man was a Thellian soldier, but it still didn’t make it any better.  The soldier was walking the outermost perimeter of the camp.  They were still several miles from the mountains, well inside their own territory. There was no reason to think that the enemy was nearby.  So the soldier walked with his head down, his mind thinking about the warm summer evening.  Marik snuck up on the soldier from behind, using the stealthy walk that he had perfected.  When he was just behind the doomed man, he leapt forward, his left hand gripping tightly around the man’s face, covering his mouth and nose while his right hand drove the dagger deep into the man’s back.  The soldier screamed, but the sound was muffled.  Marik knocked the soldier’s legs out and rode him to the ground, continuing to hold the dagger in the man’s back and held his hand tightly on his face.  It wasn’t long before the soldier stopped fighting.  He switched cloaks with the dead man and quickly moved away, towards the Thellian army camp.

Marik was thankful for the moonless night.  If it was a full moon, one of the nearby sentries might have seen what had just happened.  But the darkness of the night covered Marik’s deathly deed.  He sprinted from the dead soldier towards the rows upon rows of sleeping bodies.  Most of the soldiers were sleeping out in the open.  It was cool but not cold, so with a light blanket, there was no reason to pitch a tent.  It would just have to be taken down and packed up in the morning.  There were fires burning low throughout the camp so Marik made sure to give those a wide berth.  They didn’t really give off enough light to see by, but they indicated where there would be clusters of soldiers.

From a distance, Marik hoped he looked like any other Thellian soldier wrapped tightly in a cloak.  He kept his head straight forward, but his eyes moved left and right, searching for anyone who might notice that he was not who he pretended to be.  He had reached the army as they were finishing their march for the day.  He had sat high in tree, watching them set up their camp from a distance.  The cooks made a dinner and the soldiers ate.  When darkness came, the soldiers quickly fell asleep, as they were all tired from the long march.  Marik cared little for anything other than a small group of soldiers at the center of camp.  They had chained a man to a tree and were standing around, poking and prodding him.  Marik could not see him clearly, but was convinced it was his Knight Captain.

With delicate precision, he guided himself around sleeping soldiers, walking carefully and purposefully, trying to blend in and not call attention to himself.  The closer he got to the center of camp, the more nervous he became.  He knew that if he were to be caught, his life would be done.  There would be no sense in trying to give himself up.  He would fight to the end, killing as many of the enemy as he could.

As he neared the center of the camp, he spotted three soldiers that were casually guarding the prisoner.  They were huddled together, talking and playing a game of chance with a pair of dice.  Every so often, one of them would take a peek over at the prisoner.  But it wasn’t a long look.  The closer he got to the group of three guards, the worse he felt about his chances of ever succeeding.  Although he could only see the three that were awake, any sort of commotion would certainly send dozens of sword-wielding Thellians running directly for him.  He wouldn’t have a chance.

If that were the case, he just hoped that the end would come quickly.

At the center of the camp was a very large tent.  Marik presumed it held the leaders of the army and hoped they were sound asleep or otherwise preoccupied.  Its size provided plenty of cover for him, so he took the risk and angled his path towards it.  The end of the tent also contained a makeshift stable that contained five horses.  They were quietly munching on piles of long grass that had been placed at their feet.  It was not far from the horses to where Brace was tied up.

Out of the blue, the plan quickly fell into place.  What had at first been a simple plan of sneak in, sneak out, was not possible.  He had been overly naïve to think that it could have been accomplished.   But the new plan that was swimming in his mind could work.  If only God would look down upon him and smile.  He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer, just as Master Goshin had taught him.  It felt odd and refreshing at the same time.  But it seemed to clear his head and focused him on what he was supposed to do.

Brace was snoring softly when Marik dropped to the ground behind him.  Marik whispered in his ear, but the Knight Captain only let out a soft grunt.  Only after a sharp punch to the shoulder did Brace stir and look around.  His eyes widened at who was standing behind him.

“Marik!” Brace said between clinched teeth.  “Go!  I am done for.  You must get a message back to the king.”

Marik ignored the order and pulled at the chains, looking to see how he could release Brace.

“Listen to me!” Brace said, maybe a bit too loud.  Both of them glanced at the three guards who were still busy with whatever game they were playing.  Marik was behind Brace, hoping that a casual glance in their direction would not see him.  “Go.  I will only slow you down.  You must get word to the king that Thell is marching on us.”

“I think I can break the chain where it is attached at the base of the tree,” Marik said, still ignoring Brace.

Then they both froze.  One of the soldiers had stepped away from the other two and looked in their direction.  He did not move for a moment as he looked more closely at Brace.  Marik thought he was hidden well enough, but he was not going to let it go to chance.  He grabbed his bow, nocked and drew an arrow in one easy motion and let the arrow fly.  The doomed Thellian did not have a moment to let out a cry.  The arrow buried deep into the soldier's chest and he toppled over, dead before he hit the ground.  He quickly nocked another arrow and sent it flying at one of the other two soldiers, striking him in the back and sending him tumbling on top of the third man.  Unaware of what was happening, the last soldier pushed his companion off him and stood up, right into the sights of Marik’s arrow.  If he would have stayed on the ground and crawled to safety, he would have survived and likely would have been able to sound an alarm.  But instead, he took an arrow through the heart, killing him instantly.

Marik looked around.  No one else was stirring or noticed what had just happened.  He thought for sure there had been enough noise to bring attention to them, but so far, it appeared that they had not been discovered.  He returned to the chain and tried to figure out how to break it away from the tree              .

“My wrist,” Brace said weakly.  “Bound with leather, not shackles.”

Marik pulled at Brace’s hand and sure enough, rather than iron shackles, his wrists were bound to the chain by several thick leather straps.  It only took a moment for him to slice through the bindings.  Brace, finally free, rubbed his wrists and looked up at his friend.  “Thanks.”

Marik smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.  “We must leave.  Quickly.  How is your leg?”

“My leg?  How did you…?”

“I am a ranger.  I have been tracking you for days.  The limping gave you away.”

With the help of Marik, Brace stood and said, “I will do what it takes.  Just can’t run fast.  Or maybe at all.”

“Come, quickly.  There are horses.”

Marik would say it was divine providence, even though he really didn’t fully know what that meant.  Brace would say it was over-confidence of still being in one’s own country.  But regardless of the reason, the escape attempt so far went unnoticed as they reached the makeshift stable that contained the horses.

“Fortunate that there are only two,” Brace observed.

Marik let a smile out.  “There were five, but I sent the other three away.  There must be others around, though.”

“Not many,” Brace countered.  “Thellians fight from the ground, not from the horse.  They don’t use horses in battle.  Only their commanders ride.”

Just as Marik boosted Brace up into the saddle of his horse, a shout broke through the darkness.  Marik leapt into his saddle and the two spurred their horses away from the tent.  The shouting caused everyone to come awake.  Some more quickly than others.  Marik led the way through the soldiers, winding and turning to avoid running over many of them.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hurt them, he didn’t want his horse to stumble and fall.  That would mean certain death for them.

More shouting rose from behind, but Marik simply kicked his horse to run as fast as it could.  The groggy soldiers, still worn out from their long march, dove out of the way of the rushing horses.  Several tried to stand in their way, but were run over by the charging mounts.  Because they did not sleep with their long pole arms, the only weapons that most of the soldiers had were daggers or small swords.  None were willing to stand up to a horse running full speed, although there were some feeble attempts to swing a sword as they passed.  Marik used his own sword to parry anyone that tried.  Given more time, if the soldiers were able to realize that only the lead horseman was armed, they might have directed their attack to the second rider.  But everything was happening so fast, there was no time to think.  There were no leaders on the field, either.   They were not supposed to think, only to do what they were told.  Since there was no one around to tell them what to do, they could only do what they had been trained.  As foot soldiers who knew little else than to thrust their halberds and pikes at on rushing knights, they could do little else than watch the two riders plow through their camp.

As soon as they cleared the camp, Marik looked back for any pursuers, but there were none.  He let Brace’s horse catch his and they continued in tandem.  Brace kept his eyes forward, leaning his body forward into the neck of the horse.  Pain was evident on his face.

“Should we slow?” Marik shouted.

Brace shook his head and shouted back.  “We will have to push the horses all the way to South Karmon.”

“Neffenmark’s castle is closer!”

Brace pulled his horse to a stop.  Marik, a bit slower, had to slow down and then turn around and come back to the Knight Captain who was stopped in the middle of the open field.

“Neffenmark is a traitor," Brace said.   "We will not be safe there.  We must get to the king as quickly as we can and let him know that the Thellians are marching.”

“Neffenmark?  How do you know?” Marik asked.

Brace dropped his eyes.  Eventually, he would have to face the king and whatever punishment was given.  It wouldn’t be as bad as having to tell his friend.  “He and I were in on a plan.”

“The princess?” Marik asked, even though he knew the answer.

Brace nodded, more ashamed knowing how he hurt his friend with his deceit.  “The plan was supposed to force King Thorndale to march upon Thell.  The princess was to be taken, not harmed.  We have gotten soft enough that Neffenmark...and myself...feared that Thell would see our weakness and exploit it.”

“And it was the king that sent you to Thell with a message for peace,” Marik said, his tone showing his anger.  "What did you do with the message?  Lose it?  What happened?"

Brace glanced behind them.  They were far enough away from that camp that it was unlikely that they could be seen.  And it was dark enough that it would be impossible for them to be tracked.  But they couldn't linger too long.  Soon, their pursuers would mount up and chase after them.

"I realized some time ago that I was a fool and should not have gotten in league with Neffenmark," Brace said.  "I tried...I tried to deliver the message.  A message that would bring peace.  But it seems that the son of the king of Thell has other ideas.  It was he that captured and bound me.”  Then he added, “You should not have rescued you me.”

“They would not have marched to war with you as a prisoner," Marik observed with a biting anger.  "Maybe I should have left you to them."

Brace nodded. "I do not blame you for being angry with me.  I would have gotten my just punishment.”  He touched his heels to get his horse moving forward at a slow walk.  “I have failed the kingdom.  But worse, I have failed the king.”

Marik matched pace with the Knight Captain.  "Enough of this!" Marik exclaimed, his anger still burning.  "I cannot express how...very mad I am right now.  And I am even more disappointed.  I cannot imagine what led you to believe that you could make these sorts of decisions that affect the kingdom.  Yes, you are a knight.  You are the Knight Captain.  Yes, you have a responsibility to the kingdom, but you also have a responsibility to the king as well.  You must honor him as your ruler and let him make those decisions that affect the kingdom.  It is not your place to step in his stead."

Brace’s head hung low.  He could not muster the nerve to say anything else, so he kept silent.

Marik kicked his horse suddenly forward to block Brace’s horse.  "Sir Brace.  You are the Knight Captain, and despite your decisions of the past, you are still the Knight Captain and you have a realm to protect.  You can deal with your sullenness on your own time.  Now it is time to correct the things you have done and right the wrongs.  I will not listen to your self-deprecating words any more.  You have led men into battle.  You have made countless decisions that are honorable and worthy of your stature.  Yes, one bad decision can ruin everything.  But that doesn’t mean that you can just find some hole in the ground and crawl into it and let the kingdom fall apart.  You started this mess, now finish it.  But the right way."