Knight Fall (The Champion Chronicles Book 1) (6 page)

“Yes,” Brace said.  “On occasion the king has need to send a message to their king.  It is not widely known, and the king goes out of his way to hide it, but it is not a great secret.”

“You will find out what are in those messages…” His smiled faded as another thought came to his mind.  “No, better yet, you will deliver the next message yourself.  But instead of going directly to Thell, you will deliver the message to me.”

Brace straightened up and looked harshly down at the fat lord.  “I am not a messenger.  I am the Knight Captain.”  He took a step forward and raised his voice.  “I am not the king’s servant, or even your servant.  I serve the kingdom.  I lead the most elite force of warriors this side of the Taran Empire.”

“No,” Neffenmark countered.  “You are not the king’s servant.  You are mine.”  Lord Neffenmark lifted his enormous body from the pillows.  He didn’t raise his voice; in fact, he lowered it.  But his tone was clear.  “You are my servant, or the king will know of your treachery.  If you want to serve the kingdom, then you must serve me.  And if the king is secretly conspiring with the Thellians, then it is the king who is committing treachery.”  The smile grew back, wide and toothy.

Brace suddenly realized what he had done.  All the plans that he had put in place, all of the thought and consideration that had gone into his decisions were wrong.  He had tried to save the kingdom, to keep it falling farther into obscurity.  But in doing so, he had lost sight of his honor.  It was true that he served the kingdom first as the king was only the head of the kingdom.  Kings came and went, but the kingdom would stay forever.  But he was no longer bound to the kingdom, due to his own ignorance and naive pursuit of honor towards the kingdom.  He had found himself bound to Neffenmark.

He vowed to himself that it would not last long.  He would pretend to serve the Lord Neffenmark, but he would have to watch his back.  He would have to ensure that his actions and motives would remain secret until he could remove any question of his loyalty towards the king.  He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he knew that for now, he would have to follow Neffenmark’s commands.

“Very well,” Brace said.  “I will do as you ask.   But after this, no more.  I am not your puppet.  As long as your requests are for the good of the kingdom, I shall assist you.  But if they are not, then you are on your own.”

“We must know what the king is doing,” Neffenmark said softly.  After a moment, he added, “For the good of the kingdom.”

Brace did not like the smile on the fat lord’s face, but there was nothing more to say.  He left as quickly as he could.  He should have taken a quick nap to recover some strength for the ride home, but he could no longer stomach being in the lord’s castle.  He had to get out.  Without another word, he spun on his heels and marched out of the room and directly to the stables.

***

Lord Neffenmark emptied his goblet with one big gulp and then tossed it across the room.  “He is trouble,” Neffenmark said loudly.

The man who had been hiding behind the folds of the curtains in the corner of the room stepped out.  He was a thin man, dressed in long, flowing robes.  A gold circlet rested comfortable on his head.  His face was long, his skin seemingly pulled tightly across his bony face.  Eye sockets were sunk deep into forehead.  But those eyes were a bright blue, in sharp contrast to his shadowy and dark features.

"
Di Hechen ze
," Hibold said in his native tongue. 

Neffenmark cut him off sharply mid-sentence, “Stop it!  I barely understand your words and when you speak so fast, I understand nothing.”

“Forgive me, Lord Neffenmark,” Hibold said slowly and with a slight nod.  “Your language is likewise difficult for me.”

“You are in my castle!” Neffenmark shouted back.  “You will speak my words!”

Hibold smiled, accepting the abuse as any proper politician would.  “As you wish.  I just hope that the meaning of our words do not get mixed up.”

“I know enough of your language to know when you are lying,” Neffenmark said.  “And I know enough about your empire to know that most of the words that come out of the likes of you are lies.”

The insult hung in the air for a moment.  The Taran was used to verbal abuse; it was the nature of the business.  He didn’t care because he knew that he always had the upper hand.  He only wished that he wasn’t so far away from the nearest Taran garrison and its legion of centurions.   It was the appearance of the lack of power that actually gave him the advantage.  Neffenmark could spit and spout all he wanted.  He could intimidate through words and actions as much as he wanted.  But they both knew that the Taran Empire barely recognized this part of the world.  But if one of its emissaries came up missing, then the empire would take notice.  And if the emissary’s demise came about of even the slightest suspicious means, the Taran Empire wouldn’t even bother with trying to expand into the kingdom, it would simply come in and wipe out the entire population.

Hibold pulled out a gold coin and flipped it to Neffenmark, who deftly caught it.  He spun it around, studying the markings.  Neffenmark fixated on the portrait of Hargon the Great, the current emperor of Taran.  “Does the emperor know what you are buying?”

“Does your king know what you are selling?” The Hibold retorted.  “Our fortunes and fates are tied together.  Our meetings and correspondence have been well documented.  So if you choose to … terminate our arrangement, it will not go well for you.”

“You’ve thought this through,” Neffenmark said.

“I’ve done this before,” Hibold replied.  “Many times.  The empire does not expand on military might alone.  That is expensive in many ways.  The empire would much rather fold in kingdoms.  Conquering is fine, but very, very messy.  The emperor is also…wise with his gold.  He does not like to waste it.”

“You mean he is cheap?”

Hibold’s thin face widened into a smile.  “If he knew how many gold coins were delivered to you, he would not approve.  He would probably consider the loss of some of his centurions better than the loss of many of his gold coins.”  Neffenmark started to interrupt, but the Hibold continued.  “But he does not understand the worth of your kingdom and the devotion that his gold is buying.  And if he were to find out how much gold he lost, and if he did not have complete submission of the people of the kingdom, he would not be a very happy emperor.  And do you know what angry emperors do?  They go on rampages.  Slaughtering, nothing survives rampages.”

“You do not need to threaten me,” Neffenmark growled.

“I am not threatening you.  I am simply stating facts.  I have delivered gold and now you must deliver the kingdom.  However you choose.”

“And what happens if this emperor of yours finds gold missing?  Will I see centurions marching over the mountains and knocking on my castle gates when that happens?”

“Deliver the kingdom as you promised, and none of that will matter.”  Hibold nodded his head towards the door which Brace used to leave.  “I would suggest choosing your business partners more wisely.  You need men devoted to your cause.  Not men devoted to your king or kingdom.  He will be a problem.”

“He will be taken care of,” Neffenmark promised.  “I can assure you that all is well.”

The Taran emissary clapped his hands and rubbed them together.  “Good.  Now that our business is done, I understand that there is more food?”

Chapter Six

They stood at the edge of the water, just downstream from the docks.  It was early morning and a chilly wind was blowing in from the north.  The ground was still wet after the morning’s frost, a reminder that winter was not far behind them.  The excitement of the princess in the village had lasted through the evening festivities and a late night of feasting and merrymaking.  Conner had seen little of the princess for most of the night.  It seemed that each and every villager had gone up to her and introduced themselves.  Most of the men of the village had a least one dance with her, and many, including Marcus, had taken several turns on the floor of the Inn, spinning and twirling with a dance step that Conner did not know and would never be able to follow.  He found himself jealous of the attention that she was getting.  He sat alone most of the night except when someone tired of their merrymaking would sit by him and chat until they were bored and moved on.

For one brief moment in their lives, these villagers experienced the grace and glamour of royalty.  They were able to see her, touch her, and talk to her.  All the stories of the king, of royalty, of rich nobility was embodied in this one lithe woman.  Barely a woman, Conner realized.  Hardly more than a girl, but she certainly looked like a woman.   But her eyes were big like a girl’s, taking in and believing all that she saw.  She saw a village that treated her like she was, a princess of a great kingdom.  She was royalty, of a class above them.  And they treated her like it.  She was showered with gifts from people that had very little, people who wanted to give her their most precious of belongings.  And yet, each one was nothing compared to what was in some forgotten dusty chest in her room, locked away because it wasn’t worth the time bringing it out of storage.  She smiled and chatted, her form perfect and her words delicate and ladylike.

And Conner felt sad for her.  She danced many dances, and when she wasn’t twirling on the dance floor, she was seated in a corner, giving audience to those who begged of it.  She laughed and smiled, nodded and curtsied, said all the right things.  But she was being used.  The villagers didn’t care that she almost died.  Didn’t care that she cried herself to sleep, fearful of being attacked again.  They didn’t care that she had feelings, or might be tired of talking or dancing.  They didn’t care that her body ached from their long walk or from sleeping on the hard, cold ground in a cave.  They used her to make themselves feel better.  And a part of him understood.  They lived hard lives, working for little more than food for their table.  There was not much else for them.  They had their occasional feasts to celebrate one thing or another.  But their lives were rather mundane.  The boats came and went.  Cargo and goods were loaded and unloaded.  But now, with the arrival of the princess, their world was turned upside down.  They had a purpose, and that was to attend to this grand, beautiful princess.  And so they did, tending to the princess’ every whim.

Conner was glad that they were leaving.

“We cannot take the ship home?” Elissa asked again.  Her eyes watched tearfully as strong oarsmen pulled the shallow hulled river cog upstream.

“It will be days before it returns,” Marcus said.  “I am sorry princess, but there are villages that survive only on the trade they make with the ship.”  He turned to her and place a hand on her shoulder.  “Believe me, if you were in grave danger, I would put you on the ship and send you home, but you are safe here in our village.  You are welcome to stay here at the inn until the boat returns.”

"We thank you for your hospitality," Conner said.  "But we do not have a week to wait.  We should leave as quickly as possible."

“If you insist on heading out, I do feel that we should send others with you, at least until you return to the highway,” Marcus said with a friendly smile.

“I know the forest pretty well, Marcus,” Conner replied.  “Less bodies means less sound.”

“Very well, but I do wish you would reconsider leaving, though.  We have a fine inn, and the people will be most happy to have her stay for a week.”

Princess Elissa looked on, her eyes wide with the fear that Conner would agree.  Although she really liked how everyone treated her, she was more than ready to get back home.

Her relief was evident in Conner’s response, “I think the princess is ready to get back to the castle as soon as possible.”

Marcus’ disapproval showed on his face, but he didn’t pursue the discussion further.  Instead, he led them towards the inn’s stables.

“We only have a couple horses available, I’m afraid,” Marcus said as held open the swinging double-doors that led into the stables.  “And they are not the best of mounts, either.  This one is old.  That one there looks tired and worn.”

“Those two will do fine,” Conner said sharply.  “We are not looking for war horses, just two mounts to carry us through the forest.”

The fussing that Marcus continued to do was starting to irritate Conner.  It was almost as if the burly man was trying to keep them in the village against their wishes.  It was all he could do to keep his irritation from showing.  “And the princess and I will be fine.  We will stay by the river away from the deep parts of the forest.”

“At least let us send a rider ahead.  He would be able to make the castle by morning if he rode through the night and then he could return with a proper escort, even a carriage.”

Elissa glanced from the horse to the saddles hanging on the wall.  She didn’t mind to ride, in fact she enjoyed it very much.  But she didn’t really care to do it for days on end.  “That would be nice,” Elissa said sweetly.

“But unnecessary,” Conner countered.

“You now speak for the princess?” Marcus asked.

“No, he does not!” Princess Elissa said with a raised voice.

The irritation turned into anger and it came out in a burst of words.  “A lone rider races through the forest, unaware of his surroundings.  An arrow takes out his horse, and then he is set upon by the very ones that ambushed the princess.  A knife cut here and there, and the man is telling everything he knows.  Those riders come to the village, armed with swords and bows.  It would not take them too much to find the princess and finish their job. ”

“We may be villagers, but many of us have served in the king’s army.  We would be ready to face any threat.”

“As soldiers?  Or pikemen holding a line?  Or as bowman behind the lines.  Are you really trained well enough to go up against other men who are willing to kill?”

“And you are?” Marcus counted.

“I have killed,” Conner spat, his neck muscles bulging and his face beet red.  “Have you?”

Marcus turned away, unwilling to face up to the challenge.

Elissa put a hand on his arm.  “Conner, you have saved my life, and I have asked you to be my protector.  I believe with all my heart that you will keep me safe.”

Conner turned at the touch and looked down into her eyes, getting lost in the beauty that was in them.  The anger faded.

Marcus continued to press the issue.  “Your highness, I cannot in good conscience let you go alone.  At least let me send a couple of the village men with you.  Four or five would be much better than two.”

Without breaking his eye contact with the princess, Conner said calmly, “Four or five will sound like a herd of deer running through the forest.  The princess and I will be able to move more quickly and quietly than any of your men could.”

“The villagers here are not barbarians,” Marcus retorted.  “We know how to ride a horse.  We are very good hunters.  Why am I explaining myself to you, boy?”  He threw up his arms and marched out of the stables shouting back to them, “It is decided.  The princess will have an escort of the villager’s best men.”

Elissa, her gaze still locked onto Conner’s, said, “Maybe it is for the best.  They really will be able to help us.”

In a very soft voice, Conner replied, “I do not want to be camping in the forest tonight.  We must ride now so that we can get to the highway before the sun goes down.”

“Princess,” Marcus said from the doorway.  “I will have your escort here within the hour, armed and prepared to ride with you.”  He then turned and walked quickly into the village to find the men who would be their escorts.

“We should leave now,” Conner said, his voice now a whisper.  “Something is not right.  Marcus is trying too hard to keep us here.”

Elissa slapped him playfully on the shoulder.  “Our escorts will be here soon.  We should not dismiss their generosity.”

“I’ve tracked deer before, and they are very hard to follow through the woods.  But if a deer is injured or lame, they are easy to follow because they are slow and make good tracks.”

“What are you saying?” Princess Elissa asked.

“It wouldn’t be that hard for anyone to track us to the village.  I half expected them to show up here, but I realized that unless they are a small army, it wouldn’t go well for them.  Unless they are already here and waiting for the right moment to get us.”

Elissa looked out through the doorway.  She could see the village and the towering trees of the forest behind.  Nothing seemed amiss.  It was quiet and peaceful.

“There is a good chance they are waiting for us,” Conner said.  “Maybe in the village, maybe just outside of it.”

“Then an escort will be a good thing?”

Conner shook his head.  “The more horses there are, the louder they are.  Especially when the riders are men who don’t know how to be quiet.”

“Then what do we do?”

“I have spent my life living in the forest, hunting deer and rabbit for food.  I know how to be quiet, because if I didn’t, I would have starved long ago.  And because I’ve hunted, I know what it is like to hunt, I know what a hunter would do.  I know how to avoid them.  But I could only do it if you would do exactly as I say, exactly when I say it.  I can’t trust that anyone else with us would do it.”

Elissa’s eyes were wide with fear.  Conner wasn’t trying to frighten her, but he had to make sure she understood their circumstances.

Conner pulled her away from the doorway.  "Follow me," he said.  "Out the back."

The building that housed the stables had a back exit through a small storage room.  As they were moving through it, a small stack of weapons caught his eye.  He grabbed a long knife and stuffed it in his belt.  He was also able to replenish his quiver with four arrows.  He wished that there were more, but he knew he was lucky enough to find the four.  With a gentle tug, he led Elissa out into the small yard behind the inn.  A decorative rock fence separated them from the docks.  He followed the fence until it ended at a hedge of thick shrubs.  There was just enough room for them to squeeze through.

Once through, Conner pulled her down into a crouch.  The docks were directly ahead of them, but some distance away.  "

"What now?" she asked.

"We cross the river and start heading through the forest towards the castle.”

“Cross the river?" Elissa exclaimed.   "Where?”

Conner nodded towards the river.  “Want to swim?”

She gave him a sour look.  “Not really.”

“Me neither.”  He pulled her up and jogged towards the water’s edge where a number of small boats were beached.  They looked like dinghies used to transport people or goods to deep draft boats that couldn’t get close to shore.

Conner pushed one of the boats into the water and then helped Elissa into it.  He moved as quickly and quietly as he could.  He knew it was only a matter of time before they were seen.  With a big shove, he pushed the boat into the water and climbed in.  It took a few strokes to get the hang of the oars.  But in no time, Conner was pulling them swiftly through the water.

They were halfway across the river when they were spotted.  At first, someone on the docks shouted to them and waved, not realizing who they were and what they were doing.  Soon, others joined the first man.  And then Marcus showed up, his long white hair blowing in the wind.  He said nothing, only stood with his hands on his hips, watching the two of them rowing across the river.

Princess Elissa sat quietly in the rear of the small boat, a hand draped over the side, watching the approaching bank.  Conner faced aft, watching Elissa sit quietly.  But he also saw the commotion on the docks.  As Marcus stood watching them, surrounded by a group of curious villagers, three men, clad in long black cloaks and leather armor appeared from the Inn.  They walked out onto the dock, their scabbards swinging as they walked.  One had a bow and lifted it towards them, an arrow knocked and ready to fire.  Another of the new comers put a hand on the bowman’s shoulder and the bow was lowered.  Conner kept his face as calm as he could, doing his best to keep Elissa from noticing what was happening behind her.

Although the river was wide and the current swift, Conner knew that a good bowman could make life interesting for them.  If he went in a straight line, an expert archer could easily account for their movement and strike them down.  If he could go a little faster, and maybe change direction a little more, he would make it more difficult.  But he still felt like a sitting duck.   With more urgency, Conner put his back into pulling the oars more quickly and with more strength.  He tried to hide his exertion from his face.   She didn’t need to know right now.  There was nothing that she would be able to do about it other than fret and worry.