Last Knight (The Champion Chronicles Book 2) (2 page)

              There were a brief few moments between the time that the fog started and when the fog overcame him.  His thoughts were most clear then and he knew that something was wrong, but there wasn’t anything that he could do about.  Once, in a fit of anger, he had refused the drink and the headaches were so overwhelming that he could not even move or think.  So he took the drink to keep the headaches away.

              He looked out the tall windows as he reached his bed and could see the sun just above the horizon.  Something just didn’t seem right.  If he were going to bed, the sun should not be in his eyes.  The bedchamber was constructed so that the morning sun rose in the windows to awaken him for the day.  But his brother had given him his nightly drink just now.  But the sun was coming up.  He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.  With the fog enveloping him, he returned to the bed.

              Sitting on the edge of the bed, Hargon shouted for his centurion guard.

              Nearly an instant later, a fully armed and armored centurion came trudging through the chamber.  At the emperor’s feet, the centurion fell to a knee, head bowed.

              “Your orders?” Hargon squeaked out.

              The centurion looked up, a questioning look on the young man’s face.

              “What orders were you given?” the emperor asked again.  He rubbed his temples, trying to get his mind to think clearly.  But his thoughts were already starting to go astray.

              “Your Imperial Majesty, I do not understand the question.  My orders are to protect you with my life.”

              “My brother, Prince Tarcious, has given you other orders.  What are they?”

              The centurion’s eyes widened and a bead of sweat dropped from underneath the centurion’s plumed helm.  He had sworn an oath to serve the emperor, but also to follow the strict orders of the prince.  The last centurion guard who disobeyed the prince took three weeks to die.

              The emperor stood up quickly.  He nearly fell, but caught himself by putting a hand on the centurion’s shoulder.  The fog made it hard for him to speak, but he forced the words out.  “What…orders…my brother…give…to…you?”

The centurion opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.  All color had drained from his face and the bead of sweat became a river.

“Speak!” the emperor shouted. 

“I…”  The centurion was a veteran of many campaigns in the north and he had earned the honor of serving his emperor.  And with that service came certain duties, the chief of which was to protect the empire at all costs.  It suddenly occurred to him that he was serving two lords, and in the end, had failed them both.  There was but one solution.  With a quickness that kept him from thinking about what he was about to do, the centurion pulled out his short sword.  It had a wide blade that was meant for stabbing and not slashing.  His training told him where to stab, to strike into organs that would quickly kill him.  Before he could convince himself otherwise, he pushed the sword deep into his belly and fell over until his face touched the ground in front of him.

The shock of the centurion’s action cleared Hargon’s head for a brief moment.  It was as if a chain was released and he jumped forward and put his hands on the back of the man’s head.  His lips moved as the words of power were said.  But the moment of clarity was gone and once again his mind was confused and foggy.  He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force himself to concentrate.  As quickly as it had arisen in him, it had left.

Hargon pushed himself up and the centurion fell over onto his side, his eyes still open, seeing nothing for eternity.  There was only a gray fog in Hargon’s mind.  The effort had been too much for him, so he simply fell back onto the bed, his chest heaving.  The moment his eyes closed, sleep overcame him.

Chapter Two

It was Lilly’s ears perking up that caught Conner’s attention.  They were moving at a slow walk along the path that showed somewhat recent use.  If he moved quickly enough, he might catch up to whomever it was that was ahead of him.  But the thought of meeting someone on the road was not appealing, so he kept to an easy pace.

Lilly kept walking along the path, but she lifted her nose and snorted, waving her snout to the left.  Turning his head in that direction, Conner tried to hear what Lilly had heard.  The path had led them out of a thick grove of trees, and the area around them was mostly open with outcroppings of evergreen trees scattered about. To the north he could see the tree line of a forest in the distance.  To the south and west, the land was rolling hills, hiding whatever it was that was ahead of them.

Lilly’s ears perked again and this time he heard it.  Laughter coming from the south and off the road.  He gave Lilly a tap on the side and trotted in that direction, curious and cautious.  There were a number of small clumps of trees that would hide him, allowing him to see who it was.  If they seemed friendly enough, maybe he would announce himself.  If not, he would keep riding.  He really had nothing to lose.

At the base of the hill, Conner dismounted and walked Lilly slow and quiet up towards the crest.  There was not a good place to hide on this hill, so if they were looking right at him, he would have to make a quick decision about what to do.  Before he saw them, the laughter was clear.  Then he heard some shouting, but he could not understand what was being said.

He paused just as he crested the hill.  A group of four riders, armed with swords, were circling around a man and a woman.  The four riders were laughing, the man and woman were clearly not.

Without thinking, he mounted Lilly and kicked her hard to run down the hill right at the riders.

“Hey!” Conner shouted as he approached.  They all turned to look at him.  With a grace that even surprised himself, Conner slid off his horse and strode confidently towards the couple.

“Are you okay?” Conner asked the man.  He was maybe a little older than himself.  There was some semblance of a beard on the man’s face, but it was patchy and scraggly. The woman he protected was dressed in long flowing robes that covered all of her body except her face.  Both the man and woman looked back at him without replying.

One of the riders let out a hearty laugh.  “Karmon!” the man said.  “They do not understand you!  They are simple Taran villagers.  They only know their own language.”

Conner’s right hand fell to the hilt of his long dagger.  He knew it was not adequate.  He wished he had his swords back as his eyes fell to the longswords sheathed at the side of each of the riders.  One of those would do, he thought to himself.

“Who are you?” Conner asked sharply and with as much bravado as he could muster.  “What are you doing?”

The man who had spoken said something to his men, but not in the same language that Conner spoke.  Once the man stopped talking, the other three riders starting laughing.

“You hold a toothpick in your hand, and you demand of us who we are?” the man asked.

Conner replied as firmly as he could, “Yes.”

“Well then,” the man said with a grin.  “My name is Harmack.  These are Trevor, Nilan, and Tom.  And who might you be?”

Without thinking, Conner replied.  “Conner.  Sir Conner.  I am a knight of Karmon.”

“Oh?” the man said with a raised eyebrow.  “You are, you say?”

“Yes!”

“You do look like a knight.  Where is your armor?  And your sword?  Your horse is tired and thirsty.  Do knights treat all their horses this harshly?”

Conner felt a rush of adrenalin and let his mouth think for him.  He said quickly, “Step down and I’ll show you that I am a knight!”

Harmack slid from his horse and drew his sword.

Conner left his dagger sheathed and said, “You would face me with a sword, when I have none?”

Harmack let out another burst of laughter.  “Of course!  We are not knights.  We are simple folk of the forest.  Some would even call us outlaws.  But regardless, we have no honor like your knights.  We feast on the misfortune of others.  Like these poor souls…”   He turned to wave his sword at the young couple.  “They were unfortunate enough to come across our path.  And that will be their demise.  They have little to give us, but we will take what they have.  And we will take what you have.  Your horse, though tired and thirsty, looks strong enough.  That dagger of yours could be worth something.  Any coins in those bags of yours?”

Conner drew the dagger.  “I have nothing you want.  But I will give you the one thing I can.”  He waved the dagger at Harmack.

Harmack took a step forward and the other three bandits dismounted and drew their swords.  One of the three said something in Taran.  Harmack answered so that Conner could understand, “Yes, Trevor, we will not kill him quickly.  He will suffer and die slowly.”

Conner moved backwards, making sure that he was not outflanked.  He knew that four against one was going to be tough, but Master Goshin had taught him many tricks.  The first of which was to engage quickly and reduce their numbers.  Harmack moved forward, his sword up in a relaxed position.  The other three hung back a few steps behind their leader.

An instant before he moved, Conner played out the attack.  He knew what Harmack would do, and he knew how to defend it.  If Harmack was really not going to take advantage of his numbers and go after him alone, Conner knew he was going to have to quickly dispatch the bandit leader.  And then the other three would fall quickly.  Or once they saw their leader fall, they just might run away into the forest never to be seen again.

With the dagger out in front of him, ready for either attack or parry, Conner stepped forward, waiting for the strike that he knew would come.  But it didn’t.  Harmack rushed forward, keeping his sword low to block any attack that Conner might send his way.  The bandit’s attack didn’t come from the sword, it came from the fist that struck Conner on the side of the head.  He stumbled backwards, floating lights exploding in his head.  He mind went numb and his knees went wobbly.  He had no idea what was happening and he was too stunned to react to the next blow.  Harmack lifted his sword and Conner had just enough sense to know he was dead and knew there was nothing he could do about it.  But the sword didn’t come down on him.  Instead, the last image Conner saw was of the bandit’s elbow about to strike him in the face.

***

The blackness slowly became a gray haze.  And then the pain came.  It started in the chest and then swept through his whole body.  It seemed as if there was no part of him, no muscle, no joint, and no appendage that didn’t hurt.  He didn’t want to open his eyes, for he knew that would cause him more pain.  He didn’t want to breathe, for that caused even more pain.  And although he knew he needed to breathe to live, at that moment, Conner wasn’t sure that he wanted to live.

              He tried to sit up, but realized he was already sitting up.  He tried to stand up, and that’s when he realized that his hands were tied behind his back.  When he turned and tried to move, he discovered his hands were tied around a small tree that he was leaning up against.   He opened his eyes and was thankful that only twilight greeted him.  He looked down at his body.  His shirt was gone and three thin slices were cut into his chest.  With each breath, his chest moved and the cuts seemed to catch on fire.  He tried not to breathe too deeply, hoping to keep the pain away.

              Movement caught his eye and he froze.  The sun was not in the sky, but it was just under the horizon.  This allowed just enough light for him to see the trees at the edge of the clearing.  It also was the perfect time for the human eye to notice movement.  At first there was only a shadow, but soon he realized that there were three of them hovering in the cover of trees, moving back and forth.  It was only when one them looked directly at him that he could see their golden eyes.

              He smiled and let out a sigh of relief. 

“Help!” Conner yelled as loudly as he could.  He was sure that the sound didn’t carry very far because of the effort that it took.  His voice startled the wolves and they reacted by quickly retreating into the woods. 

“Help!” Conner screamed out again.  And then there was nothing left.  His energy was gone.  He dropped his head to his chest and that was when he noticed the pool of blood in his lap.  The slices in his chest were bleeding more than he had thought.  He wouldn’t have to worry about dying from hunger or thirst.  Before too long, he would be dead because there would be no more blood in his body.

He heard rustling behind him and Conner tried to turn his head to see what it was, but he could not twist his body that far.  He could only wait as he heard fast footsteps approaching and then a body falling to the ground at his back.

“Shhh,” a voice said softly.  “You must be quiet.  There are wolves!”

              Conner replied loudly with a bit of renewed energy.  “I know!  They are just wolves!”

              “Shhh!” the voice said again.  “Do you have a death wish?”

              “I am no threat to them, and they are obviously not hungry enough to scavenge me.  At least not yet.  Maybe if I were dead.”

              “But you are tied up,” the voice protested.  “You cannot defend yourself.”

              Conner found himself laughing, which surprised him.  “I don’t think the wolves know that.  They smell the blood and know that I will soon be dead.  Why risk their own safety when they can just wait me out.  If this was the middle of the winter, then I would already be dead.  But it is still late summer and they are not starving.”  He took as deep a breath as he could handle and leaned his head back against the tree.  “They are patient hunters.”

              Suddenly, Conner’s hands were free.  He pulled them forward against the protests of his shoulders and arms.  He started to rub them, but the pain that shot through his chest made him forget the soreness of his muscles.

              The man who had untied him dropped into a low crouch in front of Conner.  “You!” Conner said.  It was the man that the bandits had originally been harassing.

              “We must hurry,” the man said.  “They will be back.”

              “You are Taran?” Conner asked.  “You speak Karmon?”

              The man had started to move away, but when Conner didn’t move, he dropped back down into a crouch.  “I live in a village to the east and we do much trade with Karmons.  It helps to speak two languages.  But the men who attacked us didn’t need to know that.  We must move before they come back.”

              Conner glanced at the forest.  “No,” Conner said.  “They have no reason to attack us.  They would scavenge our dead bodies, but they wouldn’t attack us unless they were starving.”

              The man shook his head and said, “No, not the wolves.  The men who attacked you.  They cut you so that you would die and be eaten by the wolves.  The bandits who roam the forest are nothing if not thorough.  They will be back soon to see the remains of your dead corpse.  If they find us here alive, they will just kill us.”

              Conner let himself be pulled to his feet.  The first step caused so much pain he almost fell to the ground.  But with the man’s help, he rose to his feet and was led towards the trees.

              Suddenly he stopped and looked around.

              “Wait!” Conner said with clenched teeth.

              “What is it?” the man asked.

              “My horse.  Lilly.  Where is my horse?”

              “It is gone.  I do not know where it is.  We need to keep moving before they come back.”

              Conner did not let himself be moved.  “I need to find her.  She will be mad if she is lost.”

              “It is just a horse,” the man said.  He gave a slight tug on Conner’s shoulders and after a moment, Conner let himself be led into the forest.

It wasn’t too far before the man came to a stop and pulled Conner gently to the ground.

              “He is hurt bad,” the man said.

              Conner looked up and the woman who had been with the man appeared from the dense underbrush.  She pushed him down gently onto his back and studied the cuts.  She shook her head and then disappeared back into the underbrush.

              “What is your wife doing?” Conner asked.

              The man chuckled.  “She is not my wife.”

              “Is she not with child?”

              The man nodded.  “That obvious, huh?  We had hoped the robes would hide it.  But it appears not.”

              “But she is with you?”

              They heard the woman approach and the man replied in a whisper, “It is complicated.”  Louder, he said.  “My name is Steven.  This is Laurin.”

              Laurin held a long, thin string in one hand and a large needle in the other.  As she moved close, Conner tried to slide away.  “What is she doing?” he asked.

              “You are dying.  You have lost much blood.  If your wound is not closed, it will bleed until you die.”