Knight Fall (The Champion Chronicles Book 1) (10 page)

“Sire, you have always asked me to speak freely when we were alone, so I will do so now.”

“Go on,” the king said.

Brace took a deep breath and continued, “Sire, there is great harm in it.  We have certain traditions that we follow to help keep the peace, and to ensure that the best, the most worthy, are in positions of leadership.  We cannot have just anyone serve as a knight.  They must be of noble birth, with the right upbringing and tutelage.”

“Again, she is not asking him to be a knight," the king said with some impatience.  "She is asking him to be her Champion, to fight in her stead, so to speak.”

“She does not need a Champion," Brace retorted.  "No one would dare even think about fighting her.  There is no need for her to have a Champion!”

Brace’s voice had raised to the point where he thought he might offend his liege, but instead, the king had a wide grin on his face.  “Your point is well taken, and like usual, it is correct.”

“My point?” Brace asked, confused.

“The one about her needing a Champion.  You are right.  She does not need one, but it will occupy her time for a while.”

“But in the meantime, the boy must be trained.”

“And that will be your responsibility,” the king said.

“He cannot train with the knights, he is not a noble,” Brace said.  “He would fit in better with the Royal Guard.”

The king raised an eyebrow at Brace.  “And what do you think your good friend Perkins will have to say about that?  I am inclined to think that maybe he would be better off being trained by your men.”

“He cannot, he is not a noble,” Brace repeated with as much emphasis as he dared.

“Am I not the king?" King Thorndale said with a raised voice.  "I do believe that not only can I make the rules, but I can break them.”

“And to do so would undermine my authority and the authority of all my men.  There are reasons that only nobles can be Knights.  Our ancestry is pure and not diluted by the common.  We are stronger, smarter.  Better in just about every way.  A common man will just not make a good Knight.  It would be a waste of time to have him go through the process.  Especially to begin at his age.”

“Which brings us to another problem,” the King said.  “Regardless of which of you gets him, he will be training with boys who have many years of experience behind them.  He should train with those of his same age, but he will be at a distinct disadvantage due to his lack of skill.”

“And what would you have me do, my lord, train him myself?”

“I had thought about that,” the king replied seriously.  “But I have someone else in mind.  Someone who isn’t accountable to the politics of either the Royal Guard or Knighthood.  Master Goshin will teach him.”

“Master Goshin?” Brace repeated.  “The outcast from the far west?  What can he teach him?  He is not a warrior, he is a glorified scribe!”

The king burst out into laughter.  “You do not know one thing about our friend from the west.  He is so much more than what you could imagine.  He is a master of an ancient fighting style.  One that the likes of this kingdom has never seen before.”

“The bookworm?  A swordsman?”

“Yes.  Find him, and send him to me,” the king ordered.

“If I can even find him.  He always has his face buried in some book or another.”  Brace turned to leave, but then hesitated.  “Sire, when Princess Elissa tires of this little game of hers, and no longer cares to have the responsibility of a Champion watching over her, what then?  What will Conner do, then?  What will we do with Conner?”

The king shrugged his shoulders.  “Of all the things that I worry about each day, this one will be the least of them.  If my daughter never sees him, never mentions his name again, then after a few weeks Conner can return to his home, and it will be as if nothing happened.  But, if I know my daughter, and I think I do, then I know she is taking this very seriously and she will not forget about him.  She will really think of him as her Champion.  And for the time being, we will play along with this game.”

“And if he has no skill with the blade, if he cannot swing a sword, or does not have the fortitude for battle?”

“Brace, my good friend, I think you are underestimating this young man.  Elissa has told me the story in detail of how he helped her survive in the forest while being chased by men who wished to kill her.  He is good with the bow, which I know does not make him a swordsman.  But instead of thinking he will fail and trying to come up with what we will do when he does, let’s plan on him succeeding."

Brace bowed his head and said as respectfully as he could, "Yes Your Majesty."

“Now,” the king said with a clap of his hands. “If there is nothing else, then I have a feast to get ready for.”

“Actually, there is one more thing,” Brace said.  His voice was quiet and nervous, which the king clearly picked up on.

“Go ahead, speak.”

Brace cleared his throat, unsure how to start.  His palms were sweaty and he resisted the temptation to wipe them on his pants.  “It came to my attention some time ago, that horses were leaving in the middle of the night from the stables.”

“Oh?”

“Not warhorses, but fast messenger horses.  I had one followed.  To Thell.”  Brace let the statement hang in the air for a moment before continuing.  “The rider was followed back, and upon arriving back at the city, he went directly into private audience with you.”

The color had slowly drained out the king’s face as Brace spoke.  He started to respond several times, but the words could not be found.

“The king’s business is your own,” Brace said.  “But the kingdom’s business is mine.”

The king nodded and took a seat in one of his great cushioned chairs.  He stroked his beard while he gathered his thoughts.  “I had contemplated sharing with you…and others…this idea of mine.  But I feared that it would not be taken kindly by some.  There is resistance to any sort of communication with Thell.  Some would have that just talking to a Thellian would be grounds for a charge of treason.”

“And rightly so,” Brace exclaimed loudly.  “They are barbarians, sir, unworthy of our time, except at the end of a sword.”

“They are not much different than us, if truth be told, Brace.  In fact, there are some stories that Thellians and Karmons have the same ancestors.”

“That is all well and good, but our brothers from the north have come down here and tried to kill your daughter.  Each spring, their raiding parties sweep down from the mountains and attack our villages for sport.  I do not care if they came from the same womb as me, they are barbarians and have one purpose in life, and that is to fall to my sword.”

“And yet, there are some that seek peace with us.”

“A peace offered just before they strike us down!”

“Enough!” The king shouted, tired of the anger coming from his Knight Captain.  “Yes, I have given you the right to speak freely in the chamber, but you are getting close to crossing the line from disagreement to disobedience.  If I feel that we should have communication with Thell, then that is my right and you will not question that decision.  Is that clear?”

Brace nodded his head, letting his anger slowly simmer down.  “But if others discover this, others that may not have the same loyalties that I have…” He let his words trail off, hoping the king would finish the thought for him.

“That is why I have you, Brace, to keep the kingdom from rebelling against me and my decisions.”

“And yet you risk this by sending a messenger, unguarded and unarmed?”

“And who else would I send? You?” The king asked.

“Yes!"  Brace replied.  "Who better than me?  I can protect the message and no one will question me or where I am going, or what I am doing.  What if your messenger was stopped by a patrol in the mountains and asked about his task?  What then?  What would your messenger do?  Tell the patrol what he was doing?  Get caught in a big lie?”

The king was silent, letting the thoughts stew inside.  Finally, he said, “And if I were to send you, then it would be noticed.  You absence would be asked about. I, and you, would have to answer those questions.”

“It would be worth the risk to ensure the safety of the message.  Plus, I travel often to the outlying garrisons.  My absence for a few days is never noticed.”

“Then it is settled,” King Thorndale said.  “You have convinced me that you should be the one to deliver the next message.”

“That is a wise choice, your majesty.”

“Now leave, so that I can finish preparing for my daughter’s feast!”

Brace left, regretting every word he said, although he meant every one of them...  He was honest in his concern over the rider from Karmon going into Thell with a message.  Anyone could find out, and anyone already knew.  Lord Neffenmark knew about the message, just not the contents.  But through his actions and words, the fat lord would soon know what was in that message.

Chapter Eight

The courtyard was filled with tables overflowing with all varieties of food.  Large casks of ale had been rolled in and were being emptied almost as quickly as they could be set up.  More food was consumed in that first hour than he had ever seen in his entire lifetime.  An uncountable number of pigs were roasted, large sides of deer were hung over the fire, cooking until tender and piping hot.  Breads of all shapes and sizes were stacked higher than he was tall.  Stewpots were full of meats and vegetables, seasoned so well that Conner’s stomach could barely handle the wondrous scent.  He walked slowly through the crowd, taking it all in.  He watched the lords and ladies laugh as jesters worked their tricks and jokes, dancing to the pipe and fiddle, and making fools of themselves as they ate and drank more than their fair share.

He felt out of place, but at least he didn’t look it.  After the meeting with the king, he was quickly hauled off to a hot bath, were an old maid scrubbed him down.  He was sure she enjoyed every moment of it.  He certainly didn’t.  But after being washed and primped, his hair trimmed, and even his long nails were clipped, he was dressed in the finest silk the castle had to offer.  It was a simple garment, light blue with an odd dark blue pattern woven through it.  A belt was buckled tightly around his waist, helping to hold up his thick wool leggings.  He looked no different than any other young man there, but he still felt out of place.  He didn’t know what to say or what to do.  He didn’t know what food was good, or what was bad.  His stomach growled in hunger, but there was so much food, he had no idea where to start.

A group of loud older boys, probably not much older than Conner pushed their way through the crowd, ignoring everyone around them.   They got sour looks from the revelers, but they did not care.  Conner tried to avoid them, but they were oblivious to their surroundings.  Or maybe they knew exactly what they were doing and where they were.  Without so much of an acknowledgment of what they did, they walked right through him, knocking him to the ground.  He was too embarrassed to be angry, and too annoyed to do anything but stay on the ground.  They kept moving, as if he had never been there in the first place.  While he sat on the ground, wondering what to do, a familiar face bent down to him and offered a hand.

The knight ranger Marik helped him to his feet.  “I see you got caught by the rampaging squires.”

“Squires?” Conner asked.  They looked no different than him.  They had no magical aura surrounding them.  They were just loud and obnoxious, just like any other group of bullies.

“Yes indeed,” Marik replied.  “A couple of them will be knighted during the Summer Festival.  They are mostly a good group of kids, but they tend to be a bit rambunctious when let loose.”

Conner wiped off whatever dirt he could, taking more time than he really needed to.  He hoped that the ranger would move on.

“Enjoying the feast?” The ranger asked.

“It’s a bit…crazy.  All this food and drink.  And all the people.  And they’re tearing up the garden!”  He pointed to the edge of the common area where drunk and overzealous partiers had crushed a line of freshly planted flowers.

Marik smiled at the observation.  “There are gardeners to take care of the garden.  It gives them something to work on.”

Conner could only shake his head at the disasters these people were causing.  Did they not see the beauty of the garden?  The fresh flowers, in early spring bloom were an amazing site.  Bushes, trimmed not just round or square, but to look like animals of the forest.  The chaos was too much for him.  He didn’t like the noise or the utter disregard for the garden and the castle grounds.  He glanced about, trying to find a way out. 

Marik put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle tug.  “Come.  Walk with me.”

Conner had hoped to see Elissa, but it was clear that she was occupied with more important guests and courtiers.  He had seen a glimpse of her once when she came out of the castle, but it was fleeting.  His only reason for being here was for her, and he was coming to the realization that everyone else was right, that he didn’t belong and that this Champion idea was simply that of a young and impressionable girl.  It was silly that someone like him, a commoner, born and raised in the wild, living off the land, always wondering where the next meal was coming from, could be something more than that.  Yes, he did save her life, but he knew that anyone else in his situation would do that.  And if you put him in the same bunch as the other nobles, he would stand out as a commoner.  Not only was there nothing special about it him, but there was nothing distinctive.  He wasn’t big, with strong muscles.  He wasn’t fast or smart.  He was just Conner.  And without the pedigree of noble parents, he was simply that.  Not only was he trapped somewhere between boyhood and manhood, he was caught in a world that was confusing and foreign.

Marik guided Conner underneath an ivy covered archway and they entered a whole new place that was, thankfully, out of his own thoughts.   The courtyard was certainly very impressive with freshly blooming spring flowers and the expertly carved bushes.  But deep into the garden, it was even more astounding.  Just past the opening, the path was lined with delicately carved stone statues of mythical creatures.  As it was still early spring, the natural flowers of the garden were either just coming up, or were in the initial stages of their yearly growth.  It wouldn’t be too long before the garden would be fully blooming in color, making an impressive garden even more spectacular. The Gardens of Karmon were known throughout the continent.  Aristocratic visitors from the Taran Empire would come during the height of summer just to walk the exquisitely manicured paths.  Birds of all colors, shapes, and sizes made their home in the garden, giving life to the bushes and trees.  A shoulder-height labyrinth was at the center of the garden.  Marik pointed it out, talking about the hours that could be spent trying to find the prize at the center.

“And what is the prize?” Conner asked.

“It would not be a prize if I were to tell you,” the ranger replied with a smile.  “That is something that you will need to experience for yourself!”

Oil-fed torches marked the way and there was enough light to peer down one of the openings of the labyrinth, giving an eerie and mysterious atmosphere to the maze.  Conner paused, thinking how fun it would be to find the prize.  But during the day.  At night, in the dark, it actually seemed a bit spooky.  The path wandered around towards the back of the castle.  Torches were lit along the castle walls that seemed to have no function, other than to give light to the stone.  Although they didn’t seem to serve any obvious purpose, Conner found himself thinking about how the harsh yellow torchlight gave further beauty to the garden.

“It is just around the corner,” Marik said.  The open path had become hedge-lined and it seemed like it came to a stop just in front of them, but the path made a sharp right turn.  As soon as they made the turn, the roar of the ocean crashing upon the rocks of the cliffs filled their ears.

Conner stopped several yards in front of the cliff, unsure about what he should do.  The sound of the waves was deafening.  The scent of the salt was overwhelming.  The sight of the endless water was disconcerting.  He was frozen in a combination of fear and amazement.  The top of the cliff was almost a hundred feet above the water, giving him a perspective that he could see forever.  With a slight grin, Marik nudged Conner to the edge of the cliff.

“Some days,” Marik said, pointing across the open expanse of water to the horizon in the distance.  “If there aren’t any clouds, and the sun is just in the right position, and you looked carefully enough, you could actually see across the gulf to the Taran Empire.”

Conner just stood, his mouth agape, taking in the sight, sounds and smells.  He had no reason to dispute the ranger.  It was a sight he could never have imagined and if Marik had told him he could fly, he would have believed him.

“You will catch flies with your jaw hanging on the ground like that.”

“I…I…,” Conner was amazed, and didn’t know how to express it with words.

“I know how you feel,” Marik said.  “I was you, so many years ago.  I grew up in Tyre, well actually outside of Tyre.  My father owned quite a bit of land outside the city, so I spent my share of time in the woods hunting and living in the woods.  I came here to serve the king when I was young.  I will never forget the first time I stood in this very spot, and looked upon the ocean.  I was overwhelmed.”

“I never realized…how big…”  The words came out slow.  His mind was still reeling from what his mind was telling him.

“What you see is just the Gulf of Taran.  It is only a tiny part of the ocean.  The ocean goes on for, well, forever, I guess.  I have never seen the end, but I guess it must end somewhere."  He watched Conner for some time before asking, somewhat awkwardly, "What about you?  Your family?  What are they like?"

It took Conner a moment to realize that Marik had asked him a question.  "Oh...my family?  I live with my aunt.  She is my father’s sister.  He passed when I was young.  About ten.  I remember him pretty well.  He taught me how to hunt and to use a bow."

"He did a mighty fine job," Marik said, “How did he...?"

"Just got sick one day.  Got a fever and laid down to sleep.  He never woke up.  After a couple of days, I finally realized he wasn’t waking up.  The others in the village helped me bury him.  After that, I moved in with my aunt.  She raised me.  Well, she gave me a roof to sleep under when I wasn’t out hunting.  I came and went and she didn’t really mind.  I don’t think she ever really cared for me."

Marik let the statement hang around for too long.  It seemed as if there was some bitterness towards his aunt, but he didn’t know how to make the conversation move along.  Finally, he asked, "What about your mom?"

The made Conner smile.  "I have a couple memories of her.  Not a lot.  Just some images in my head.  I was very young when she died.  My father never told me how.  Maybe like so many others.  Just got sick and died.  I know it hurt my dad pretty hard, because he talked about her a lot.  He really loved her and missed her.  I wish I could have known her."

"You and the princess are alike in that way!  You both lost your mother early on."  The sudden awkwardness of the statement was obvious the moment it came out.  He quickly tried to change the subject.  "I remember the Queen.  She was pretty, but I don’t think near as beautiful as Princess Elissa will be.  But she was raised to be royalty.  Raised to serve her husband and to be a wife.  She was a great woman, but there is something more about the princess.  She has a strength that I would not have imagined that her mother had.  The Queen would have just rolled up into a ball in those woods and died.  She did not know how to survive.  But the princess.  I like what I saw from her.  I like that she is strong."

"She will make a great queen," Conner said.

Marik let out a sigh.  "Only if she finds the right husband to be her king.  Laws of the land, Conner.  Women have their place, and the ruler of the kingdom is not one of them."

"It’s silly," Conner protested.

"Maybe to you," Marik said.  "But there is an order to the world that must be kept.  It keeps the world from falling to chaos."

Conner fell silent and kicked a stone off the cliff and they watched it disappear into the darkness.  The more he thought about where is was and what he was doing, the more he realized he didn’t belong.  He was a commoner in a place meant for the noble.  “I should go back,” Conner said softly.

“Yes, there is still much food left!” Marik replied heartily.

“No, not that.  To my home.”  After a moment, he added softly, “Or what I call home.  This place is not for me.  I do not belong here.”

“The princess has called you to be her Champion!  You cannot abandon her.”  He felt his words coming out flat and uninspiring.  He didn’t even believe it himself.

“Her Champion?” Conner said, turning away from the gulf and towards Marik.  “I am a nobody.  A commoner.  I stumbled across her in the forest.  I am no more her Champion than…than…”

“Then what?  Than who?  It is her choice.  You really don’t have much say in the matter!”  His words were meant to be lighthearted, but Conner did not take it that way.

“Oh?  I am not bound to her.  I do not owe her anything.”

“No.  You don’t,” Marik replied.  “But before you leave, before you make a decision, think about something.  Think about your life, and this world, and maybe what you can give back to it.”

Conner gave Marik a funny look.  “What do you mean?”

“I know you might feel like nobody now, and well, in the scheme of things, right now, I guess you are nobody.  But I think you have a chance to do something that not many young men have, and that is to make a difference in the world.  Think about it, what would you do if you just went back home.  You would live your life.  Hunt for food, maybe find a wife and get married.  Raise a family.  But what if you had the chance to do something more, to be something more?  Why do you think the nobles send their boys to the castle to be trained towards knighthood?  Mostly because they know that they have done something productive in their own lives and they are trying to get their boys to do the same.  But now you have a chance to do the same.  You can do more than what you could have imagined."

”I cannot be a knight," Conner said.  "I have no noble blood."