Knight Fall (The Champion Chronicles Book 1) (5 page)

Finally, Conner broke his gaze, and said, “We should get going.  We cannot be sure that the…uh…whoever was chasing you isn’t tracking us here.”

“Can they do that?”  Elissa stepped over to the dresser and took a brush.  She looked at it carefully before she began brushing her hair.

“Of course," Conner replied.  "We weren’t very careful about leaving tracks.  We were in kind of a hurry.”

“We will be safe here.”

“Elissa, we are in a small village.  You won’t be safe until you’re back at the castle.”

She pointed her brush out the window at the river cog.  “We will take the boat back.”

“It’s going the wrong way,” Conner said.  “It’s going to Tyre”.

She looked at him curiously and then looked back out the window.  She chuckled and said, “Well, it can turn around, you know.”

“It’s full of cargo and heading up river.  And besides, Marcus is getting us horses.”

“You shall go talk to the captain, he shall change his plans and take me back home.”  She turned towards the mirror, turned her head left, then right, and then smiled.

“The horses will do,” Conner said.  “The boat has business elsewhere.”

“Horses?  You have ordered a carriage, of course,” Elissa said, grabbing a brush from the dresser.  She looked at him and gave him a wide smile before continuing to brush out her hair.

Conner was left speechless.  This was no longer the girl that he found in the forest, on the verge of being killed – or worse.  This was a young woman who had little experience with life outside of her castle, and until now, it had never crossed his mind.  She fussed over her looks, primping her hair and fixing her makeup, while not realizing that the very men who would kill her could be standing outside her door.  Of course they would have had to get by Lawry first.  Her cares were not on her livelihood, but on her material being.  She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen.  And yet, she was missing something, something very important.

“Do you realize how close you were to dying?” He asked.

“Of course,” she said flippantly.  “Those men would have done so if not for you.”  She stopped touching up the makeup around her eyes long enough to give him a thankful smile.

“And spending the night in the cave, almost freezing?”

“A dreadful experience for sure," Elissa said.  "But if not for you, again, I would not be here.”

Conner could only shake his head at her.  She spoke the words, but her tone indicated that she did not understand what she was saying.

He grabbed her hand and said, “Come on, we’re going for a walk.”

She tried to pull away, thinking he was playing some game, but Conner squeezed tighter.  She let out a sharp cry.  “That hurts!  What are you doing?!”

“We are going for a walk.”

“No, I am not ready,” she said, still trying to pull her arm from his grasp.

He yanked hard, causing her to stumble and fall to her knees.

“What are you doing?!” She screamed.  “I am Princess Elissa!  How dare you treat me that way?!”

Conner stood over her, unsure what to do.  She was a princess, the embodiment of the ruling class.  With her fine clothes and perfect grammar, she played her part in the game of classes.  She lived her life pushing others around.  Not necessarily by choice or purpose, but by her nature.  It was the way she was raised and it was the way the culture worked.  She wasn’t mean on purpose.  She wasn’t spoiled on purpose.  She didn’t demand the fanciest room in the Inn because she was purposely being a snob.   It was who she was because that was how she was raised and how she was expected to act.  But it also wasn’t just how she was expected to act, it was how others were expected to act around her.  She was the princess and others expected that they would serve her and meet her every whim because she was the princess.  The culture expected it, and that is what happened.  Not because she was a mean and demanding ogre, it was simply what was expected of everyone.

But as Conner looked down at her, with her face red with anger, her eyes burning with fury, he didn’t see a princess.  He saw a young woman who was scared, running for her life.  Wet and cold.  Huddled together in that cave, they were two young people fearful of dying, wondering how they were going to survive.  It wasn’t a princess and a peasant, it was a young man and a young woman.

He held a hand out to her, and said softly, “I am sorry, Elissa.”

She looked at him for a moment before taking his hand.  He helped her up and then she brushed off her dress.  The floor was clean and her dress hardly had a spot of dirt, but she dusted it off anyway.  The redness in her face was gone and the fury in her eyes dissipated into simple annoyance. 

“Thank you,” she said stiffly.  Conner took a step back as she collected herself.  She took a deep breath and looked directly into his eyes.  “I mean it.  Thank you for all you have done for me.”

Conner simply nodded, unsure about her sincerity.  Her voice was cold and her tone was not full of any feeling.  But her lower lip was quivering and her eyes were filling with tears.  Conner was a simple peasant boy who lived his life to hunt for food and wander the forests of the kingdom.  There was nothing more to his life.  The princess lived her life for the kingdom.  She had all she could ever desire and more.  She lived a life of wealth and prosperity, being trained in the ways of the noble and kingly, so that one day she could serve the kingdom as the wife of a leader of the kingdom.  And yet, she stood here, in front of him, a beautiful young woman, barely into womanhood, about to break down into tears.  He didn’t know why, but his instincts told him to act.  They were the same instincts that saved his life in the forest.  They were the instincts that would change lives forever and change the direction of their kingdom.  If he would have known what would come out of this one small act in the coming years, he would have turned and ran.  But he didn’t.  He could only act as he felt would be right.  He stepped forward, pulling her into him, her face buried in his chest.  She sobbed uncontrollably, shaking as she did when they were nearly frozen in the cave.

Chapter Five

Lord Neffenmark’s castle was on the cold southern slopes of the White Mountains.  They were far enough south that they didn’t get the horrendous winters that plagued the kingdom of Thell to the north, but they were high enough into the mountains that it was cold more than Knight Captain Brace Hawkden liked.  He was used to the more temperate climate that the sea provided the capital city of South Karmon.  Even with a thick wool cloak pulled tightly around his body, he still shivered in the biting nighttime winds.  Brace hated this ride for more reasons than the climate.  Although they were at the base of the mountains, they were still at a higher elevation than the city, which caused his horse to suffer more than he liked.  He was in hurry and had pushed his mount as hard as he could, but he would need the horse for the ride back.   Normally, he would make this trip over the course of two long days, or if he wasn’t in a hurry he would take three easy days.  But time was of the essence and he had to speak with Neffenmark as soon as possible.  Therefore, risking the health of one of his favorite riding horses, he made the trip with only brief stops for water.

The stars were out in full force, giving him just enough light to travel by.  Brace didn’t take the route that went through the small village that the castle overlooked.  Rather, he took a carefully hidden path cut into the mountain behind the castle.  Halfway up the steep and dangerous path, he stopped his horse and dismounted.  It was too treacherous to ride any further.  He would have to lead his horse from this point forward.

A few moments later, a man appeared from the darkness and blocked the path.

“It’s Sir Hawkden,” Brace said to the man.

“Yes,” the man replied.  “We’ve been watching you for some time.  Lord Neffenmark wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

He snapped back at the man, “Does it matter?”

“What?”

Brace sneered at the man and replied, “I am the Knight Captain of the Knights of Karmon.  I serve the kingdom of Karmon with my life.  I come as I please.”

“Yes, sire, of course.”

Brace continued up the path, pushing past Neffenmark’s man.

Even if an attacking force discovered the secret path, they would have been hard pressed to actually use it as a means of assault.  The start of the path wound through the foothills of the mountains in the middle of a thick grove of trees.  As it neared the castle, it was cut into the rock of the mountain just wide enough for a horse and its rider to traverse.  This made it not only difficult to pass, but also very easy to defend.  A handful of archers could keep an entire army at bay.  Neffenmark had also installed two sections of loose rock above the path.  A quick knockout of a supporting beam would cause the path to be completely blocked.  The final section leading up to the castle was steep enough that horses had trouble getting up it.

Two archers looked down upon them from the battlements that covered the rear of the castle.  With a wave from the man following Brace, they disappeared.  A moment later, a door hidden in the darkness opened, allowing them into the castle.  A young boy took Brace’s horse while he marched his way through the back hallways directly to Neffenmark’s chambers.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Lord Neffenmark said as Brace entered the chamber.

Brace bit his lip, forcing the words that he wanted to come out back down inside.  He had bad news and he didn’t want to give it to the Neffenmark while he was mad.  Instead, he put on a fake smile and gave a courteous nod.  He was a warrior first, but as Knight Captain, he also had to play the politician at times.

“Come in,” Neffenmark said with a motion of his plump hand.  The rest of his ample girth was spread on top of a pile of silk pillows.  It was the same place that Brace saw him each time he came to the castle and wondered if he ever moved from that spot.

“Dinner was served some time ago, but I am sure that I can scrounge up a morsel or two.”

“No thank you,” Brace said.  “I have little time and I will need to be heading back out as soon as I can get a fresh horse.”

“Very well,” Neffenmark replied with a toothy smile.  “Wine to parch your dusty throat?”

Brace gave in and took a goblet from one of the lord’s servants.  It was a sweet wine and very strong, unlike the more diluted wines that he was used to drinking.  It was the type of wine reserved for special feasts or celebrations, not the kind served to thirsty travelers.  But that was Neffenmark’s style and it showed in his castle.  Although it was designed for defense and served as the northwestern outpost for the kingdom, Lord Neffenmark’s castle was hardly styled as a military garrison.  Tapestries from around the world hung throughout the halls, adding color and energy to what would normally be cold and lifeless walls.  Pillows of all shapes, sizes, and colors was the seating of choice.  Hardly a chair could be found.  Neffenmark served his justice not from a throne, but from a pile of comfortable pillows.  The lord’s soldiers were also dressed in the finest of clothes.  Their tunics were silk and bright colored.  Their scabbards encrusted with precious jewels.  Neffenmark was a very wealthy man and he put that wealth to use.  Brace just wasn’t sure it was the most effective use of his wealth.

After the first sip, Brace gulped the rest of the wine down, allowing the alcohol to swim through his body and calm him.  He wanted to ease into the conversation, but he could not find the words.  So he simply spoke his mind, and didn’t hold anything back.

“The plan has done awry.  The princess was not captured and several of the men you provided were killed.”  He spent several minutes further detailing the failure, including the fact that the princess had yet to be found.

Neffenmark stiffened, his red cheeks turning a pale white.  His mouth opened for a moment, and then closed, keeping the words from coming out.  He looked hard back at Brace, who did not turn his gaze away.  After a few moments, the color returned Neffenmark’s face.  “The men are inconsequential.  Mercenaries who got paid well.”

“We will have to cancel the plans…”

“Cancel!” Lord Neffenmark shouted.  He sat up, and his jowls shook as he spoke.  “Never!  The plan will proceed.  However, due to your failure, there will indeed have to be some changes made.”

It took Brace a moment for the words to penetrate.  “Failure?  It was your men that failed.  The men you provided were hardly the professional military men you promised.  They were scoundrels and thieves for all I could tell.”

“Silly knight, there are no guarantees in this business and good men are always hard to come by.”  A wide smile spread across Neffenmark’s face.  “And expensive, too.”

The fat lord paused to fill his goblet from a hidden pitcher.  “We will have to make some adjustments to our plan.  And to our arrangement.”

“There is no more plan, and there is no more arrangement.”

Neffenmark shuffled in his pillows, as if he were trying to sit up.  The effort seemed too much, so he gave up.  Finally, he looked up at the Knight Captain and said, “I am afraid that you will do as I ask.  You have already committed treason.  A crime for which you would easily be convicted.  I believe our most majestic king likes to draw and quarter traitors.”

“I am no traitor,” Brace growled, taking a threatening step forward.

Lord Neffenmark snapped his fingers and two guards, swords drawn, suddenly appeared from behind a curtain.  “I have two crossbowman in the walls behind you.”  He raised a finger and pointed it at Brace.  “Do not test me, knight.  You will do my bidding, or the king will know of your treachery.  Yes, his favorite knight.  The one who holds his counsel.  You, my friend, will do my bidding and you will do it without complaint or argument.  Do not be deceived by your own thoughts.  You are a traitor.  You have plotted against your king.”

“I am no traitor!” Brace yelled out, glancing behind him for where the crossbowmen might be.  “I serve my kingdom as I am bound.”

“You serve a king, as well.  Your duty is also to him, and that makes you a traitor.”

“You are a traitor as well!” Brace shouted out, his muscles itching to burst forward and strangle the fat lord.  But his better judgment held him at bay.  He would gladly give his life to take Neffenmark’s, but he could not be sure he could reach him before two crossbow bolts would strike him down.  And if he did not survive, and the lord did, then the fat man would be able to execute his plans.  The only way for Neffenmark to be kept in check would be for him to live through the visit.

Neffenmark readjusted his pillows and settled into them.  “Yes, I am a traitor.  But the difference between me and you is that you actually care.  While me, well...I have been called worse things.  But I do not care what others think of me.  My castle here…” He waved his arms about his finely furnished room.  “…protects me from those who are jealous and desire what I have.  My guards are loyal to me first, and our king second.  I am the one who feeds them, protects them, and gives them training in the arts of swordplay.  I provide for the welfare of their families while they provide me with food.  I have a small standing army that could hold off virtually any force that would dare come against me.  It is an army that is loyal to me first.  They would jump off the cliffs into the ocean, if I told them to.  They serve me and do my biding.  But, I do not care what they think of me.  I do not care if they hate me or love me.  But I give them what they desire, so I have their loyalty.  Your king gives me nothing, so he does not have my loyalty.”

“He is still your king as well,” Brace said, between clenched teeth.  The anger was continuing to boil inside of him.  Yes, he had committed an act that would get him at the very least, a quick death, but most likely, it would bring him a long, slow, painful death.  But he did it because of his loyalty to his king and the kingdom.  His head was spinning and he needed to sit down before he collapsed.

Smiling, Neffenmark recognized the sudden whiteness that spread across the Knight Captain’s face.  “You should sit.”  He motioned to a cushioned chair.

Brace took the seat, burying his head in his hands.  He regretted every moment of the last two years of his life.  He thought about ending his own life, for it would be the honorable thing to do.  It would be quick and painless.  He could jump up and attack Lord Neffenmark.  Yes, he would be struck down, but maybe, just maybe he would get to the fat man before he expired.

“You serve the kingdom first,” Neffenmark reminded the knight.  “You are a Knight of Karmon, not a Knight of King Thorndale.  You serve the kingdom regardless of the man who sits upon the throne.  You know that.  You are bound by blood to that charter.  Do not confuse the man with the kingdom.  Just because you are a traitor to the man does not make you a traitor to the kingdom.”  He paused for a moment while he let those words sink in.  “That is why you came to me so many months ago.”

“I thought your goal was to serve the kingdom, but I do not know anymore,” Brace said softly.

“The treaty that your good King Thorndale was proposing to the Thellians is treacherous to the kingdom.  It cannot happen.”

“I have erred," Brace said.

“You have served your kingdom loyally," Neffenmark countered.

“I should have gone to the king right away and shared my concern with him," Brace said.

Lord Neffenmark sneered.  “And he would have cut your throat at that moment for daring to suggest that he was wrong.  He believes Karmon and Thell can coexist.  Our history tells us otherwise.  How many men have you known personally that have fallen to the sword of that wretched people?  How many others that you don’t know.  How many in the history of our kingdoms of died at their hands?  They serve a god of war, a god who tells them to destroy their enemies.”

“At least they have gods that watch over them.  Our gods have abandoned us a long time ago,” Brace reminded the lord.  “They walked our lands so long ago that no one can remember them.  They are only in our minds because of the old stories that no one really believes anymore.”

“Indeed, our gods have long since left us.  They have left us to fend for ourselves, and that is what we must do.  We must fend for ourselves and find our way in this world.  And we will do so with the cold steel of a sword’s blade.  And if we don’t, we will be overrun by our enemies.  Our kingdom will be no more.  We will be assimilated into the land of the Thellians.  They will make us to turn to their god, or we will perish by their sword.”

“That will not happen,” Brace said, his voice gaining strength.

Neffenmark smiled.  “Of course not.  That is why we must be diligent in our actions.  We must stop this awful thing before it can happen.”

“What now?” Brace asked.

The smile on Neffenmark’s face stretched wider.  He had his man, once again.  “You must return at once to find the princess, dead or alive.  If you find her body, the plan will continue as we had discussed.  Thellian will be blamed for her death and the first act towards war with or neighbors will be complete.”

“And if I find her?”

“Then you will return the hero, of course.  If that is the case, you must find yourself on the next delegation to Thell.  We must discredit them and allow their actions to convince King Thorndale that they are not wanting peace with us, but are bent on destroying us.”

“How will we do that?”

Neffenmark had a wicked smile on his face.  “I have heard that the king is sending messengers to Thell on a somewhat regular basis.”