Knight Fall (The Champion Chronicles Book 1) (30 page)

The scholar let a smile escape his lips.  "Although I have no doubt about the validity of your poem, I think it is hard for a man of intellect such as myself to believe that they truly foretell the future."

"You may believe as you wish," Goshin replied.  "I too, have my doubts.  But it is my duty as a Hurai to search the truth.  So I shall."

The scholar gave a slight nod and said, "Then I shall leave you to your search."  He turned to leave, but at the last moment, asked, "What do you think that the fourth event is?”

Goshin looked down at the poem and took a moment to give his answer.  “I think God intends to return to reclaim this world as his kingdom."

Rardus froze, wanting to race through the door as fast as he could.  But his heart was beating so hard, he thought he was going to die.  The rumors were true, then.  He had tried not to believe them, had hoped they were not true.  He looked at the door, and then back at the old Hurai.  He felt a kinship to the strange man from the west.  They were both scholars in pursuit of knowledge.  But Goshin was not Taran.  First and foremost he owed his loyalty to the empire.

"Good day, my friend," Rardus said as calmly as he could.  His voice shook and he hoped it was not noticed.

Goshin had already turned back to his research, looking over an ancient scroll that needed more translation.  He did not notice the cracked voice, or the white ashen face.  "And good day to you," Goshin said.

***

Rardus wiped his forehead.  His heart raced and his clothes were soaked from sweat.  It certainly wasn’t because he was hot.  The chamber that he stood in was almost cold, even though it was the middle of summer.  He wasn’t sure exactly where he was, but he knew that he was led deep underground.  That would explain why it was so cool.  But the cool temperature of the chamber didn’t help his sweating problem. 

Two centurions dressed in their leather armor and red surcoats had escorted him through long corridors.  Neither had said a word to him other than the occasional one word command.  They were as imposing figures as any soldier would be.  They were tall and muscular and carried sharp swords.  But it was not them that caused fear to fill the scholar’s every being.  It was the man who now stood in front of him.

He had come from a dark, unlit corner of the chamber.  He had not heard a door open.  He just appeared from the shadows.  He was taller than the centurions.  The top of the Rardus’ head just reached the man’s chin.  He was dressed in a long black robe that was cinched around his waist by a jewel encrusted belt.  Atop his head was a thin gold crown.  It was not the ornate crown that the emperor wore.  It was just a simple circlet of gold.  There was not a weapon on him, but Rardus knew he was the most dangerous man in the empire.

"Your highness," Rardus said, dropping to a knee and bowing his head.

Prince Tarcious, brother of the emperor of Taran, did not have any patience for this man.  But the old scholar had the information that he needed, so he had to be tolerant.  At least long enough to get the information.

"A Hurai came to your library," the prince said.

"Yes," Rardus responded.  "The curator of the library had said that you were to be informed immediately."

"And yet," the Prince said with a sneer.  "It has taken you several hours to contact me.  Immediately means immediately."

A look of horror spread across the scholar’s face.  "I...I wanted to be sure and to know what he was researching.  I didn’t want to come to you without knowing that he really was Hurai.  I needed to ask questions.  To be sure."

Prince Tarcious closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath.  His lips moved, reciting words from ancient language.  The moment the first sound left his lips, an electricity filled the chamber.  The centurions had felt it before and had witnessed what was about to come next.  They each leaned away from the poor scholar.  The prince lifted his right hand and thrust it out directly at Rardus.  A small ball of fire exploded from his palm and struck the scholar in the chest, sending him flat on his back.

The prince stepped forward and looked down at the old man, who was gasping for breath.  His eyes were wide in fear and sobs came from his lips.

"My instructions were clear," the prince said.  "It is fortunate for you that my abilities with managing the web of magic is limited right now.  In time, though, such a demonstration would leave you a charred chunk of flesh and bone.  When I command you to do something, I expect it to be done.  Exactly as I have commanded.  Am I making myself clear?"

Rardus nodded.

"Get him up," the prince demanded.

Quickly, for fear of their own lives, the two centurions pulled the scholar up to his feet.  The old man could barely stand on his own, so the two centurions had to hold him up.  The center of the scholar’s chest was charred where the fireball had struck.  The skin would eventually heal, but the fear that was put in him would last forever.

"I will give you one chance to tell me what you know.  If you leave out any detail, I will know, and then I will kill you.  If you lie or try and deceive me, I will know.  And then I will kill you.  Now speak!"

The faint scent of charred cloth was replaced by the pungent scent of urine.

Rardus’ face went ashen and then he grabbed at his chest.  He fell to his knees, gasping for air.  The centurions tried to keep him up, but the old scholar slipped through their hands.  A moment after he fell to his knees, he collapsed to the floor, his eyes wide with fear, for he knew he was dying.  He looked up at the Prince with the last breath of life in his lungs and prayed to a god that he knew would not listen.  And then blackness enveloped him.

Between clenched teeth, the prince growled, "Find the Hurai.  Bring him to me.  I don’t care how.  Just make sure he can talk."

The two centurions bowed in unison before hurrying as fast as they could out of the chamber.  They had seen enough to scare them into obedience.  They did not want to disappoint.

***

The emperor sat in the darkness of his chamber, as he often did.  From the height of the tallest tower of his palace, he looked upon his city.  Fires and lamps lit roadways and buildings, bringing a nearly never-ending brightness to his city.  For hours on end he could just sit and watch his people, enthralled by the greatness of his own making.

He turned his head slightly at the change in air caused by the slight parting of a curtain.  The stillness of his chamber was nearly absolute, so it was easy to know when something disturbed it.  He could see movement in the shadows and kept his eye on whoever it was that approached.

"My brother."  The words shattered the peace as harshly as a hammer breaking glass.

Prince Tarcious had stopped a respectable twenty feet away and dropped to a knee.

"Tarcious," Emperor Hargon said.  "Come."

The emperor’s younger brother approached with what had become a daily liquid treat.  He handed the tall, bronze goblet to the most powerful man in the world and watched in silence as the emperor gulped the drink down.

"A most intoxicating drink," the emperor said with a smile.  He could feel the warmth spread through his limbs and his head was emptied of all worries and cares.  "Now, you have news for me."

"Your spies are thorough, brother.  Do I really need to repeat what you already know?"

Emperor Hargon turned to his brother and said, "Of course you do.  It helps me to figure out who is lying to me, and who is telling the truth."

"Have I ever lied to you?" Prince Tarcious asked.

The emperor let out a burst of laughter.  "I do not know if you have ever spoken a word of truth to me!  Now lay your lies and deceiving words upon my ears!"

"Of course, my brother.  The news is from the east."

"The east?  Who cares of the east," the emperor blurted out with a slurring of his words.  "The east is of little care to me.  To the north, the barbarians are massing again.  A quarter of my legions must be committed to keeping the gold flowing from the mountain mines.  And the southern provinces have always been salt in my wounds.  They keep more than their fair share of taxes and refuse my demands for more fealty.  The west is just too big to govern properly.  We have expanded too far.  I fear that we may lose half the continent if we can’t keep those darn barbarians at bay."

"But brother, the east holds..."

"The east!" the emperor shouted, jumping to his feet.  "Enough of the east!  Are there mines of gems and jewels to the east?"

"No, but..."

"Are there rivers of gold to the east?" the emperor yelled at his brother.  "Are there legions of men ready to declare their loyalty to me?  To lay down their lives by marching to the north to slaughter barbarians?"

"No," Prince Tarcious said with as much patience as you could muster.  "But there is open land.  And forests.  We do much trade with them and the resources of the land could be ours for the taking, instead of having to trade for it."

The emperor shook his head.  "Trade?  We steal from them as it is.  Spices from the west.  Tapestries and sculptures from our own artisans.  And in return we get leather from their livestock.  Wagons of grain.  Large timbers of wood from their forests.  Horses for our chariots.  We give them nothing for much in return."

"But it could be ours.  Yours, I mean.  Rather than trading with them, it could just be all ours."

The emperor sat back down and said with a more subdued tone, "And then we would have to govern them.  And garrison their cities.  And keep the peace.  And they would rebel, and we would have to squash them.  No.  It is better for us like it is.  We steal from them and they can govern themselves.  I care not for them.  Now, I want to know how we are going to wipe the barbarians off the face of the earth!  They are the threat of this empire.  They breed like rabbits and they fight like rabid dogs."

Prince Tarcious let out a long sigh.  This process was taking too long and the emperor was not cooperating.  He glanced at the goblet that the emperor was still holding, wondering if he could increase the dosage without it becoming fatal.  He did not want death, he just needed the emperor to cooperate.  It would just have to take more time.  But time was running out and soon he would have to act out of desperation instead of through thoughtful planning.

"General Urgal’s legions are on their way to join the battle.  If all goes well, we will push them back to their homes."

"Yes," the emperor said.  "That is the news I was looking for.  He will be ordered to continue the fight back to their villages.  Slaughtering and burning the whole way.  We must wipe their existence from the face of the earth.”

"Of course, my brother,” Prince Tarcious said.  “Your will shall be done."

"Now be gone!  I have many more things to ponder before the night is through."

Prince Tarcious gave his brother a deep bow and left as silently as he had arrived.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The morning sun was about to make its appearance.  The eastern sky was a slightly lighter shade of dark than the rest of the clear night sky.  The stars were especially clear, especially the very bright northern star that Goshin had been so concerned about.  Conner hadn’t thought about the old man in quite some time.  He had been too busy with trying to stay alive.  A sudden feeling of loneliness swept through him.  He had been racing around the countryside for so many days, he couldn’t even remember how long it had been since he left South Karmon.  But even through Brace was sleeping soundly just five feet away, the loneliness was overpowering.  He missed the old man and his quirky ways.  He missed the warmth of his own bed and the friendly faces of the castle staff.

And of course he missed Elissa.  He could not image the grief that she would feel when the news of her father’s death reached her.  His heart ached for her and the pain that she would go through.  There was nothing that he could do, especially being so far away.  But even if he were there, he could at least provide a shoulder for her to cry on.  He wanted to be there for her, to comfort her.  It was a selfish thought, he knew, because he just wanted to be with her.

He shook his head at his silliness.  Trying to keep the thoughts from creeping into his mind, he tried to distract himself by stirring the fire.  He moved the burning logs around, allowing the flames to grow when a sudden pop came from the fire.  It wasn’t real loud, but loud enough to stir his companion.

Brace Hawkden sat up from what had been a deep sleep and looked around, bleary-eyed.  As his mind processed his surroundings, Brace jumped for his sword, landed awkwardly and stayed on the ground, writhing in pain.

Conner held his laughter inside and called out, “Are you all right?”

Brace sat up holding his head.  “I don’t know what hurts more, my head or my leg.  What happened?”

“You were exhausted.  About five miles from the valley, you simply fell off your horse and hit your head pretty hard on the ground.  You didn’t move for some time, but you were still breathing.  So I dragged you into the woods where our fire wouldn’t be seen and made camp.”

The Knight Captain touched the wound on his head and his hand came away sticky with blood.  “Ow.  How long was I out?”

“It was midday when you fell," Conner said.  "And now it is nearing morning.  So half a day and a night.”

Brace jumped up, ignoring the pain in his head and leg and grabbed his sword.  “Get the horses.  We must ride.”

“Are you okay?” Conner asked.

“No, but I don’t need to be," Brace replied.  "We lost much time.  Too much.”

“You needed rest,” Conner said apologetically.

Brace stopped in mid-step and let his chin fall to his chest.  “You were right to let me rest.  I have been on the go for so many days.  I have no idea when I last slept.”

“I have food,” Conner added.

“And I am starved.  But we must eat on the go.”

It took only minutes to break camp.  Generally, Brace tried to clean up his camps to prevent the untrained eye from recognizing that there had been a camp.  But Brace was in too big of hurry.  He knew they were way late and likely had already missed Neffenmark.  If the fat lord was going to make a play for the crown, then he would likely have already started for South Karmon to stake his claim to the throne.  If that was the case, then they still might be able to chase him down.  Lord Neffenmark’s wagon train didn’t move fast, barely at the pace of a walk.

The horses were more than ready to go after getting plenty of rest.  The moment Conner touched his heels to the side of Lilly, she shot forward at a canter.  He had to pull her back and keep her from running too fast.  Brace kept them at a pace that pushed the horses hard, but not hard enough to hurt them. 

***

Brace Hawkden squatted behind thick foliage at the edge of the woods.   In front of them was Neffenmark’s village.  It had a name, but Brace had no idea what it was called.  He had never been in it; he had always bypassed it and the front entrance to the castle.  Even though the secret entrance up through the cliffs of the mountain was not widely known, it was still watched closely.  He knew most of the lookout points and they were inaccessible from the outside and even a well-placed arrow would not reach the lookout guards.  Since they had arrived some time ago, they had not seen one villager or even evidence that anyone was there.  Even as twilight was descending, there were no lights or lamps lit in any of the homes or shops.

“Let’s go,” Brace said.  He stood and checked that his sword was secured in his scabbard.  Conner followed, next to, but a step behind the larger man.

Cautiously they approached the village.  They avoided the main road, coming up through a trampled field instead.  They scanned the nearby houses looking for any movement, especially the tip of an arrow sticking out.  Brace tried to walk in an unthreatening manner to avoid being noticed, but he was still clad in his chain armor.  The only unthreatening part of his approach was his obvious limp.

The village was spread out across a large area.  The uneven terrain of the mountains kept the inhabitants from building close to one another.  Here and there three or four buildings were clumped together, but mostly the buildings of the village were spread out.  They passed the first building without incident.  It was a small thatch roofed house with its door cracked open.  Brace kept his eye on the door as they passed, but there were no signs of its occupants.

The crunch of their boots on the ground seemed to echo loudly.  There was not even the sound of birds chirruping or dogs barking.

“Where are they?” Conner asked as quietly as he could.

Brace shook his head slowly, his hand gripping the pommel of his sword even more tightly.  They continued walking in silence, straight down the center of the village towards the castle.

Neffenmark castle was built out from the lower slopes of the mountain.  Half of the castle was actually in the mountain, having been dug out during the original construction.  The rest of the castle was not as elaborate as the multi-spired stone building that perched atop the cliffs in South Karmon.  But it was serviceable when it came to defense.  The castle was but a single square structure with a tower at both corners.  Battlements lined the top of the walls.  A single gate at the center of the outermost wall blocked their way.

The two doors that comprised the gate were each twice as tall as Brace, easily allowing a rider on a warhorse to enter the castle without having to duck.  The doors were half as wide as they were tall.  Maybe two riders could ride abreast, but it would have been a tight squeeze.

“Should we knock?” Conner asked.

Brace looked up.  There was a wide gap in the battlements atop the wall just above them.  It was wide enough for a barrel or two of hot oil to be pushed on top of unsuspecting assaulters.

“Should we not have been challenged?  Where is everyone?” Conner asked again.

“I do not know,” Brace replied.  “Nothing about this village makes sense.”  He looked more closely at the doors and realized there was an odd gap between them.  He drew is sword and took a step back.

“Push it,” Brace ordered.

It took Conner a moment to realize what Brace was asking and then he walked up to one of the doors and gave it a hearty push.  It moved easily, to his surprise.  He jumped back and drew his swords.

The doors opened up to a long corridor.  At the far end was another gate, but it was open.  In between was thirty feet of open space.  Arrow slits were cut into the wall about ten feet above the ground.  There was a reason the gates were so narrow.  If the castle was assaulted, it was a real bottleneck for the assaulters.  Many, many men would die in the assault.  Brace and Conner moved slowly, their eyes on the arrow slits.  With each step, their eyes were stuck on the arrow slits expecting a razor sharp arrow to suddenly appear and shoot them down.

“Is this wise?” Conner asked.  “We can easily be killed.”

“It is likely a trap, but that is why we are here.  To spring it and kill Neffenmark before he can do any more damage.”

As they reached the inner gate, Brace gave Conner a quick push and they jumped through the doorway, expecting the portcullis to drop on them.  But it didn’t.  Brace quickly scanned the inner courtyard, but it was as deserted as the city.  There were patches of grass in the courtyard, but mostly it was dirt covered.  Directly in front of them, about a hundred feet away was the face of the mountain.  A set of closed double doors faced them, cut directly into the stone of the mountain.  The courtyard stretched about a hundred feet both to their left and right.  A large wood structure was to their left with the smell indicating that horses were stabled inside.  Or used to be stabled inside.  To their right was a square stone building with several doors leading into it. 

Spinning slowly while walking through the courtyard, Brace scanned the castle walls for signs of ambush.  He only relaxed after he had crossed the courtyard and stood at the doors directly across from the castle gate.

“Should I check the stables?” Conner asked.  “Look to see if there are any horses?”

Brace nodded.  “There is an entrance from the back of the stables into a hallway that leads to the room behind this door.  Move slowly and silently.”

“You don’t want to wait for me?” Conner asked with a whisper.

“I’ll be okay.”

Conner nodded, unsure that Brace would really be okay.  He moved as quickly as he could without making noise.  Just as he reached the open archway that lead to the stables, Conner glanced back to see Brace step through the double doors.

Like the village and presumably the rest of the castle, the stables were deserted.  There was still the strong scent of manure, so he knew that the horses had only recently left.  He glanced in each stall, just to be sure.  There were a few saddles and miscellaneous tack on the ground as if the riders had left in a hurry.  There were two torches still burning, but they were almost burned out.  Soon there would be no light left as the sun no longer offered light to the enclosed stables.  He sheathed one of his swords and took the longer of the two torches and headed towards the far end to find the hallway that Brace had mentioned.

***

Brace stepped through the door and heard the whiz and knew what hit him before the pain exploded through his shoulder.  He spun around partially because of the force of the crossbow bolt and partially because his fighting instincts kicked in.  His spin caused him to land on the ground and he rolled once more away from the doorway.  A second bolt whizzed past his head and buried deep into the wall.

Brace lifted himself to a knee, raised his sword and scanned the room.  He didn’t care who was firing the crossbow, he just needed to find a way to get out of the shooters line of sight.  In less than a second, he took in the room.  He had been here before, so he already knew its layout.  The room was Neffenmark’s audience chamber.  Along the far wall were stacks of pillows where the fat lord held court.  Curtains were draped along both walls covering doors from adjoining hallways.  Various tables and chairs were to his left where he knew Neffenmark’s favorites were allowed to feast on the lord’s exquisite food.  With his bearings set, Brace dove for the table and chairs hoping one of them could provide him enough cover until Conner could come.

Another crossbow bolt struck the wall where Brace had just been.

“You are quick for being lame,” a voice shouted from the far end of the room.

Brace peeked around a table and noticed movement from behind the curtains on the far wall.  He hoped that the shooter was reloading the crossbow so he exposed himself momentarily to pick up the table and push it over.  Once settled behind his thick oaken shield, he looked around the corner of the table just as he saw the crossbow between the folds of the curtain.  Before he could react, the crossbow was shot and the bolt buried itself into the table, inches from his face.  Fortunately, Neffenmark had his tables constructed from thick and hard oak.  A lighter wood might have allowed the bolt to fly through.  With a grunt, Brace pushed the table forward about ten feet.

“Where is Neffenmark?” Brace shouted out.

“Lord Neffenmark has left his castle,” the shooter called out.  “He has other business to attend to.”

Brace’s heart sank.  He was too late.  The pain that he had been able to ignore until now overwhelmed him.  The bolt was sunk deep into his shoulder, possibly all the way through.  His right arm felt useless.  Each time he squeezed his right hand, pain shot through his entire body.  He had felt worse pain, but not by much.

“Where is he?” Brace shouted back.

“Does it matter?” the shooter said.  “You will be dead soon enough.”

Brace caught a slight odd accent to the man’s words.  He realized the shooter was likely a mercenary from Taran.  Neffenmark liked to bring in disposable soldiers.  Pushing aside the pain for a moment, he put his back against the table and pushed it another five feet forward.  Another bolt was shot, sticking into the table, but not through it.  Brace peeked around.  The shooter was still behind the curtains, hidden from view.  If he got close enough, he knew the shooter would get only one shot.  It would take the shooter too long to reload.  There was no pain in the world that could stop him from killing the shooter if it came to that.