Knight Fall (The Champion Chronicles Book 1) (40 page)

The prince laughed loudly while he walked away from the admiral and towards one of the large open windows.  He looked out at his city and his gaze fell upon a large structure at the exact center of the city.  The arena was empty, as it was still midday.  But by evening, it would be filled with screaming, bloodthirsty fans.

“You say he trained with the knights?” the prince asked.

“Yes.”

“And he bested one of their own?”

“No, one of their best squires.”

“But he is good with the sword?”

“The servants I talked to thought he was the best swordsmen they had ever seen.  But that’s just coming from the servants.  He saved the princess from her kidnappers and killed Neffenmark.  That’s all I know for sure.  Everything else is just what I heard from the servants I was able to talk to.”

“I think I have a plan for this boy.  If he is even half as good as you say.”

“Yes, your highness,” the Admiral said with a bow.  “Would you like me to return to Karmon and find him?”

The prince smiled, his back still to the admiral.  “Oh, that won’t be necessary.  I have others for that purpose.  I do have a plan for you, though.”

“I’m at your disposal.”

The prince closed his eyes as he envisioned the spell.  He had spent many long hours memorizing this new one.  He had practiced it a couple times on a small rodent.  But never on a human.  The words of a language long forgotten left his lips as his mind replayed the words over and over.  He said them slowly, even though he had them memorized.  They needed to be just in the right order for the power within himself to be released.  As soon as the last word of the spell left his lips, he could feel the hot sensations of the power leaving his body.  It started deep within his gut, warming him at first, and then turning him blazing hot.  If he were to be stopped at this point, the spell would implode upon himself, so he had to finish it.  He did not think about the scrolls that described the demise of many sorcerers who had perished because they could not complete the spell.  He only thought about the power being released.

And then it came out of him almost like a sneeze.  The power released in one instant was immediately followed by a sudden loss of all energy.  The prince fell to his knees, exhausted.  But he heard the screams behind him and knew that he had been successful.  He turned just in time to see the last of the green cloud of poisonous gas dissipate.  The admiral was on the ground, kicking with convulsions, he mouth open and releasing a piercing scream.  Every spot of exposed skin had blistered, especially his face.  He was barely recognizable as a human as the poison did its work.  His eyes bulged out from the pain.  His lips cracked and bled.  Skin blisters grew and popped.  The instant of the last moment of his life was as painful as could be imaged.

The prince smiled at his own power and the pain that he had inflicted upon the admiral.  He wanted to stand, but he was still too weak.  His mind still worked, so as he watched the last twitching of the admiral’s legs, he considered his situation.  With Neffenmark gone, his ability to gain access to the castle was now gone.  There was always the obvious option, to send in legions of centurions to assault the castle.  But he knew that option could never work.  First, the assault would be expensive.  He knew the might and courage of the Karmon Knights.  Maybe they weren’t as good as their reputation, but he had lost too many battles to the barbarians from the north to take anyone lightly.  It would take too many men away from the other wars that they were fighting.  He could not let their armies be stretched too thin.  But most importantly, he could not let a battle happen that would cause the destruction of the castle.  It needed to remain intact.

“Your power continues to grow.”

Prince Tarcious turned towards the shadows where the voice came from.  “Your work is incomplete,” the prince growled with an angry voice.  “Neffenmark is dead.  The admiral failed in his task as well.  You can see how I think of failures.”

A tall and thin man stepped from the shadows.  “Unlike the admiral, I do not fear you.”

“You should,” the prince said.  He tried to feel the power, but it was gone.  He was exhausted almost to the point of collapse.  If he even tried to force himself to tap the power again, it would consume him.

Hibold strode aggressively towards the prince, his cloak wrapped tightly around his body.  “Your attempts at tapping into the ancient skills are impressive.  But you are still weak.  I can see it in your eyes.  Your shoulders hang lower.  You are hunched over like an old man.”

The prince straightened himself up.

“Your master teases you with the power,” Hibold added.  He pulled a long jagged-toothed dagger from the folders of his cloak and held it out, pointed at the prince’s chest.  “I could kill you right now.  You couldn’t even stop me physically, if you wanted to.”  He put the dagger back into his belt after a long moment.  “But I won’t.  We serve the same master, and I don’t think he would take it kindly if I killed his pet project.”  Hibold’s eyes sparkled and a smile grew on his face.  “And I wouldn’t get any ideas about stabbing me in the back, either.  I don’t think the master would take it too kindly if you killed me.  I’m sort of a pet project, too.”

The prince did not like the thin man who stood in front of him.  But Hibold was willing to get his hands dirty and that was one thing that the prince could not do right now.  Until he was able to wrestle complete control from his brother, he needed to not draw attention to himself.

“I have a task for you,” the prince said.

Hibold bowed low.  “As always, I am at your command.”

“Neffenmark was killed by a young Karmon by the name of Conner.  Find him and bring him to me.”

“You ask me to find a needle in the haystack?”

“You are resourceful.  I am sure you will be able to accomplish this simple task.  You have spies throughout the empire and beyond.”

“Very well,” Hibold replied.

“Now leave me,” the prince ordered.  “I must rest.”

About the Author

Brad Clark grew up in the modestly sized city of Grand Rapids, Michigan, but now resides in a small town in the southwest corner of Michigan. He works as a software engineer at a local family-owned software company.
Reading and writing has always been his passion, but the stories that were jotted down into piles of notebooks never made it beyond a chapter or two. But after much nagging from his wife and kids, he broke down and published his first novel as an e-book. His love for the fantasy genre started when he was a young boy and had never left. That love for swords and sorcery grew into an idea for a story, and that story become his second novel, Knight Fall, book one of the series of books called the Champion Chronicles.
As much as he has a passion for reading and writing, Brad is also an avid road bicyclist and runner. Springtime is running season as he prepares for an annual half-marathon. Summer, though, is his favorite time where he can spend hours in the saddle, riding his bike on quiet back country roads.
With five kids, three still at home, writing is purely a hobby, a way to escape from the business of life. His stories come from his love of the genre and from his heart. Whether the stories work for the rest of the world is not why he writes, he writes because he simply wants to put his dreams on paper. He never wants his writing to be work, he only desires it to be a fun hobby and hopes that others can share in his stories.

You can follow Brad on twitter @booksbybrad or visit his website at
www.booksbybradclark.com
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