Kingdom's Call (15 page)

Triumph circled and whinnied in pain, and Gavin went to his horse and grabbed the reins.

“Easy, boy … easy,” Gavin tried to calm the animal so he could inspect the injury. Triumph settled, and Gavin could see that the claw had sunk deep but had not penetrated beyond the powerful shoulder muscles. The wound was bleeding profusely, however. He doused a cloth in the stream and carefully began to wash the wound. Triumph's pain was obvious, and Gavin paused. He stroked the horse's face and neck.

“Triumph, you are indeed a magnificent horse … I was never worthy of such a gallant stallion as you.”

Gavin continued to clean the wound but became worried that the caralynx's dewclaw might have contained poison—only time would tell. Gavin decided to press onward since he had already traveled deep into the forest and there was as much trek behind him as there was ahead. He walked beside Triumph, and within an hour it was clear that the stallion was beginning to suffer from the effects of something more than just a gash. Triumph's head lowered and he began to stumble. Gavin stopped and made his horse lie down on the forest floor. He washed the wound again.

Sadness began to overwhelm him, for he knew there was nothing he could do to save the life of his faithful steed.

“I am sorry, old friend. You took the strike of that wildcat for me, and now I can do nothing for you.”

Gavin knelt beside him and laid his hand on the animal's neck. Triumph nickered as if to say, “It's all right, master … That is what I do.”

Gavin could not help the tears that welled up in his eyes as he remembered the many times Triumph had carried him victoriously into and out of battle. The hours passed, and Gavin did not leave Triumph. The animal's breathing became shallow and weak, and Gavin knew its end was near.

Before long, Gavin heard the approach of a beast through the wall of trees behind him. There was no stealth in the approach, and he quickly realized that it was not just one but many that were coming upon him. His heart began to race, and he drew his sword, holding it as best he could with his left hand. The jagged form of mounted men slowly became discernable as they approached, but Gavin's fear only increased, for he had been in this situation once before.

He clenched his hand into a fist and wondered if the evil brutes who had wounded him were coming to finish the job they had started many weeks earlier. Their forms were large and menacing, and Gavin considered fleeing, but they had already seen him, and it would now be futile. Gavin stood as five massive warriors atop their warhorses broke through the trees and approached him. They were equal in stature to the brutes who had nearly killed him, but Gavin sensed a different air about them. Even still, he could not deny the fear that swelled within his bosom.

They too formed a semicircle around Gavin. The leader dismounted before him. He stood a full head taller. He looked sternly at Gavin and then to Triumph lying at Gavin's feet. The man knelt down and placed a hand on Triumph's
shoulder near the wound of the caralynx. He turned and looked at his companions.

“It is a Kasian,” the man said in a deep voice. He rose and faced Gavin. “You are Gavin of Chessington?”

“I am.”

“You are fortunate to have made it this far alone,” he said.

Gavin looked down at Triumph. “The caralynx would have killed me were it not for Triumph.”

“It is not the caralynx I am referring to,” he said bluntly. “The Dark Knight desires your blood, for his warriors have foolishly underestimated the power of the Prince and His plans.” The warrior quickly scanned the surrounding area.

“I don't understand,” Gavin replied. “Who are you?”

The warrior looked at Gavin and clenched his jaw.

“I was your enemy and am now commanded to be your guide,” he responded.

Gavin sensed the reticence in the man, and he understood that his past was as difficult for a messenger of the Prince to overcome as it was for himself. Gavin lowered his eyes and saw the mark of the Prince on the pommel of the warrior's sword.

“I doubt, sir, that either of us should understand the ways of the Prince in regard to my life. What is your way with me?” Gavin asked, eager to be done with this conversation, for the pain in his heart was quickly rising again. He sheathed his sword.

The warrior hesitated and then turned to his men.

“Brock, dismount. He will need your horse to ride. Trustan,
stay with Brock until we return. You know what to do, so be quick about it and stay alert!”

One of the warriors dismounted and held the reins out to Gavin. Gavin knelt down to Triumph and stroked his neck. He thought perhaps the horse was already gone.

“Good-bye, my friend.” He knew that he would never see his faithful equine companion again, and his heart grieved. He found it difficult to leave his dying horse, but the warriors seemed impatient. He slowly stood and took the reins of the warrior's horse.

Once Gavin mounted, the leader wasted no time in getting underway as Gavin and the three warriors continued on toward the far side of the Forest of Renault. They traveled for two full days, navigating the forest landscape. There were no more encounters with caralynx, and Gavin deduced that their numbers were too great for any wildcat to threaten them. Still, they proceeded with great caution, often stopping to listen and even changing directions for a time. Gavin learned that the leader's name was Lindan, but unless Gavin initiated it, there was very little conversation other than that required to fulfill the journey. Gavin did not mind. One of the other warriors was as cool toward him as Lindan, but the one named Porunth warmed slightly. Gavin found him a fairly amicable fellow with bright red hair and a full beard to match.

During the second evening's camp, Gavin sat down beside Porunth. After an exchange of some idle pleasantries, he felt he could approach the man with some questions that had plagued his mind for many days.

“Porunth, I have encountered many knights and warriors from throughout the kingdom, but never have I seen warriors such as you. I can only assume that you must be Silent Warriors.”

“You have not seen us, but we have seen you … many times.” Porunth smiled. “Our home is with the King across the Great Sea, but our mission now lies in Arrethtrae, ever since the revolt.”

“Lucius?” Gavin asked.

“Yes. He and his Shadow Warriors have brought chaos to the kingdom, but the Prince will prevail.”

“I believe I have experienced some of the chaos firsthand.” Gavin massaged his right arm as he spoke.

Porunth's friendly countenance became serious. “The Shadow Warriors are cold-blooded and ruthless,” he said, and Gavin sensed a life of memories girding up his solemn response. He looked at Gavin. “You are extremely fortunate to have survived that encounter. I must tell you we have heard that Lucius and the Shadow Warriors have made you a priority target.”

Porunth nodded in Lindan's direction and lowered his voice. “That is why Commander Lindan is so concerned. The quicker we are rid of you, the better he will feel. And you have to remember that the Silent Warriors watched you torment the Followers of the Prince for a very long time, much to the hindrance of our own work for the King. You are not necessarily a, shall we say, favored ally. The ways of the Prince are often a mystery to us.”

This helped Gavin understand Lindan's demeanor, but he needed a moment to assimilate the information that Porunth had just shared.

“Why would Lucius be so concerned with me?” he asked.

“Because the Prince is concerned with you. Lucius is reacting as an enemy should—destroy that which an adversary seeks,” Porunth replied.

Gavin shook his head in confusion.

“The Noble Knights think they are serving the King and want to kill me. Lucius and the Shadow Warriors hate the King and want to kill me. The Followers of the Prince don't trust me, and the Silent Warriors nearly despise me. I feel as though the whole kingdom is pursuing me and desires my destruction. Is there anyone who doesn't want me dead or think me a villain?”

“There is One,” Porunth said as he moved toward his bedroll.

“May I ask you one more question, Porunth?” Gavin said quietly.

Porunth nodded.

“Lindan said my horse was a Kasian. What did he mean by that?” he asked.

“A Kasian is a breed of horse that comes from only one place: the Kingdom Across the Sea. Only the King's court and His Silent Warriors are allowed to own them. To see one in Arrethtrae that does not belong to a Silent Warrior is strange indeed. It is a mystery to us as to why the King would allow the charge of one to an Arrethtraen such as you.”

“It is as much a mystery to me, sir,” Gavin replied.

“It is how we found you,” Porunth said.

“How so?”

“The Kasians hear things in a unique way. I suppose much
like a bat that flies in the dark. The night and the fog are not a hindrance to them,” Porunth said.

“How did that help you find me in the depths of this forest?” Gavin asked.

Porunth paused. “A Kasian can hear the death of one of its kind.”

Gavin thought of Triumph and was deeply saddened.

“We are not allowed to leave the carcass of a Kasian behind. It is divided and removed or burned or buried. Brock and Trustan have taken care of it. I am sorry, Gavin. Your loss is great, for a Kasian is more loyal than a mastiff hound,” he said.

The evidence of Gavin's foolishness and ignorance enveloped him in every aspect of his life: the fallacy of the order of the Noble Knights to which he had dedicated his life, the persecution first of the Prince and then His Followers, and now even his lack of understanding as to the significance of his loyal steed. He had lost it all and wondered at the purpose of his appointment at the Crimson River. Was he riding toward judgment and condemnation or pardon and acquittal? He didn't even know who, if anyone, would be there. His apprehension mounted, and sleep was elusive.

On the third day, the far edge of the forest opened to the country and the trees gave way to lush, grassy hills. The Crimson River lazily wound its way across the vibrant country before entering the Forest of Renault. Gavin could hear the faint bubbling of water over the mossy rocks in the distance, but here
the river widened and the water was still and mirrored the sky and opposite shoreline perfectly. Lindan halted his men at the tree line and scanned the area.

“Dismount,” Lindan commanded Gavin.

Gavin complied. Lindan pointed to the reins of Gavin's mount and held out his hand. Gavin handed him the reins.

“What now?” Gavin asked.

Lindan pointed and Gavin looked in that direction. Beside the Crimson River, beneath a sprawling shade tree, Gavin saw the form of a gallant knight that could belong to only one man. Gavin's heart quickened, for he had fearfully hoped that he might see the Prince again.

Gavin turned to Lindan. “Is He here to rule the kingdom?”

“No, He is here for you,” Lindan replied. “When He comes again to Arrethtrae, it will be not as a pauper but as a king, and every soul in the kingdom will know that it is He who reigns!”

Gavin looked again toward the figure at the river. “What does He want of me?”

But there was no reply. Lindan had already turned his men back toward the forest.

Gavin ran at first, and as the distance diminished, the emblem on the Prince's shield left no doubt as to His identity. Gavin slowed and approached cautiously, not sure how to respond. With each step he became increasingly confused by his emotions. He was overcome by the dichotomy of his life. He was grieved by his actions, yet joyful for a second chance. Here before him stood the One who brought the forces of the kingdom into submission and caused the hands of evil men to
tremble. The last few steps became cumbersome, and Gavin was beset by the deeds of his former life against One so royal. Gavin approached the Prince, fell at His feet, and wept.

“Stand up, Sir Gavin,” the Prince said.

“No, my Lord, for I am too ashamed to take in Your gaze. I cannot bear the grief that I have caused You, the King, and Your people. I cannot right the wrongs nor repay the debt I owe You. I am not worthy to stand before You, my Lord!”

The Prince knelt down and gently placed His hands on either side of Gavin's head. “You are right, Gavin, you cannot repay your debt, but you can be forgiven. And this I offer you, for I see your broken heart. Look upon Me and accept My forgiveness, for I am a Prince of the future and not the past.”

Gavin slowly lifted his head and looked into the eyes of fire that burned with compassion, not condemnation.

“Let go of your past, and look to Mine, where I died for you. Yield to Me, and I will make you a true Knight of the Prince.”

The Prince grabbed Gavin's left hand with His own and slowly lifted him up. Gavin remembered his crusade to rid the kingdom of the Prince and His Followers and wished them to be the echoes of a bad dream, but the images and emotions were too real. As he took in the powerful gaze of the Prince, he saw a future that could shatter his past and restore in him the heart of a nobleman. Gavin was a passionate man, and his passion for truth had been turned inside out and shaken. Here, near the still waters of the Crimson River, Gavin accepted the forgiveness of the Prince and embraced the hope of a restored
future … his future. He laid his head on the Prince's chest and felt the embrace of the King's Son around his shoulders.

“My Prince, my heart aches to serve You, and yet I am not able to even lift my sword. How can I become a Knight of the Prince and be of any service to You, my Lord?” Gavin asked. The skill and ability of his former life had abandoned him, and now he had nothing to offer the One whom he had persecuted.

“I do not need the strength of your arm to make a knight of you, Gavin. All I need is your heart, and that you have given,” the Prince replied.

Gavin found peace in the words of the Prince—true, lasting peace. His search was over, and already he sensed the beginning of a new quest.