Sir Rowan and the Camerian Conquest (17 page)

Lijah held the scroll, staring blankly at it. His gaze lifted and pierced Rowan.

“My mother was a noble woman, not given to fanciful imagination. What she said happened is true.”

Rowan opened his mouth and then closed it, not knowing what to say. As incredible as the story seemed, he still saw little connection to himself and his life. And yet, strangely, he felt it resonate deep within him. Was it just the strangeness of the story that called to him so?

“What happened to the other child?” Mariah asked.

“The family who adopted that child moved to another region of the kingdom.” Lijah stared at Rowan. “To Cameria.”

Rowan swallowed hard. Mariah grabbed his arm.

“What are you saying … that I’m your brother?” Rowan asked.

Lijah just kept staring at him.

“Prove it,” Rowan finally blurted out.

“I cannot,” Lijah replied. “But I need not. You know it to be so.”

Rowan couldn’t deny that there was something about Lijah that was undeniably and strangely familiar.

“You are not Camerian, Rowan. Your veins flow with the blood of the King’s people. We were born in Chessington, descendants of the people of Nan. Though our parents were poor and common, our heritage belongs to the King, His Son, and His people in Chessington … our people.”

Rowan turned and walked away a few paces. He had wondered countless times about his origins. Never had he imagined it might be someplace other than Cameria. Could Lijah’s story be true?

“Your given name is Mosiah. It means ‘to draw out.’ ” Lijah’s voice was low, but loud enough for Rowan to hear. “It is time for you to be drawn out of Cameria.”

Rowan turned around and slowly came back. “Why have you come for me now?”

Lijah held out the scroll, but Rowan couldn’t make himself take it. If this was all true, what would it mean for him, for Mariah, for the Resolutes?

Mariah reached out and took the scroll from Lijah. She opened it and began to read out loud.

Mariah looked up from the scroll. “The last two words are unreadable.”

Lijah nodded. “My mother said the scroll was torn. She never told me what the last words were.”

“ ‘To Chessington herald …’ for all?” Mariah asked, trying to piece together the last few words of the cryptic scroll.

“It’s possible,” Lijah said.

Lijah pulled a leather cord from around his neck and held a tarnished key in his hand.

Mariah studied the parchment again. “If you were the child with the key, and you really are brothers, that would mean Rowan was the child with the image. What image?”

Lijah shrugged. “Were you given an image of something as a child?”

Rowan shook his head.

“A pendant, medallion, birthmark … anything?” Lijah pressed.

“No … nothing.” Rowan felt himself becoming agitated. The words on the scroll could mean anything. He shook his head and turned away again.

“You must come with me, Mosiah,” Lijah said, “to Chessington.”

Rowan’s nostrils flared. He turned back and pointed at Lijah. “No! My name is Rowan. Can’t you see what’s happening here? We are preparing for battle against Gavaah and his army. How do you know our mission isn’t right here, right now?”

“Don’t you understand?” Lijah returned fiercely. “This isn’t about Laos. This isn’t even about Cameria. This is about Chessington. The days are short. The Dark Knight is rising in power, and the coming of the Prince is near. Our calling is higher than this. We have a mission that awaits us elsewhere in Arrethtrae.”

Rowan froze, captured by the familiar words. And yet Lijah’s story, the scroll, the key—it all seemed so strange. Frustration rose up in him as he struggled to take it all in.

Lijah stepped toward Rowan. “I don’t know why we were chosen or even what we were chosen for. I just know it has to do with Chessington—and soon!”

Rowan studied Lijah through narrowed eyes. “If this is all true, how did you know to find me here? You were here even before I was. How is that possible?”

The fierceness of Lijah’s countenance diminished, and he seemed hesitant to answer. He looked to the ground as if he didn’t want to.

“I began looking for you more than four years ago—first in Chessington, then in the Outdweller regions. A year and half ago is when I finally learned that you had been taken to Cameria, but still that was not enough. Ten months ago, just before I first saw you at Laos, I had a very vivid dream … At least, I think it was a dream. In the dream, the Prince told me that if I found the man named Aldwyn, I would find my brother.”

Lijah looked up at Rowan. “And so I have, for there is not another in all the kingdom who fights like we do. We were born to use the sword, Mosiah. At least tell me you know that much to be true.”

Rowan stared at Lijah, pondering the strange knight’s call, then finally shook his head. “I will fight with my people here in Cameria,” he said. “They need me, and they need you. Come, Mariah.” He held out his hand for her to take, and together they walked to the entrance of the cave.

Later that night, Mariah rubbed Rowan’s brow to soothe him, but she was as silent as he.

“You are troubled, my wife, as I am.” Rowan looked up into her beautiful eyes. “You needn’t worry. I’ll not leave you.”

Mariah forced a smile, but he could tell she was still disturbed.

Rowan sat up and gently took her hands. “What is it, darling?”

Mariah looking lovingly and deeply into his eyes. “You
do
have an image.”

THE BATTLE FOR LAOS

“An image … What do you mean?” Rowan asked. “Where? Where is the image?”

“It’s on your back, on your right shoulder,” Mariah said sadly. “I first saw it after I freed you from the cave, when I was helping you change your tunic. It’s … unique.”

Rowan’s heart began to pound. “What does it look like?”

“Lift your shirt,” she said.

She took a pen and a parchment and carefully copied the mark. When she was done, she gave it to Rowan.

The shape looked like a sun with varying lengths and widths of sunbeams shining forth from it. He stared at it for a long time, then finally looked at Mariah.

She bit her lip. “What does this mean?”

“It means I have a strange-looking birthmark and nothing is going to change.” He pulled her to him. “I’m not leaving you, Mariah. My duty is here, with you … with our people. We will raise our children in a free Cameria. All right?”

Mariah nodded and sank into his embrace.

As the days passed, however, he often saw her lost in thought.

The next three months flew by in a frenzy of activity as war preparations and training escalated and all activity in Eagle’s Nest focused on Freedom Day. Rowan volunteered to fly one of the gliders into the city, and his time was soon consumed with training for flight.

Building the gliders had proved to be the most resource-consuming task of all the preparations, for they had to be collapsible for the trek around to the west side of the mountain and then capable of being quickly and securely erected for flight. Sir Scott and his team were constantly making modifications to the gliders as well as training the fliers. Soon the air above the valley was constantly filled with gliders and riders.

The drawback to such an attack was that those who flew the gliders could not wear heavy armor. Modified leather armor would have to do, and it was hoped that the advantage of the surprise attack would offset their armor disadvantage.

Even with lighter armor, Rowan’s glider required additional wingspan and structural support for his large, muscular frame. The trainers were nervous about his first training flight, as was he. The first few seconds of drastic drop left him breathless, but as the glider caught the air and lifted him up, he yelled with excitement. It was the most freeing sensation he’d ever experienced. He quickly learned to control his flight path by leaning and shifting his weight.

He had been told that landing would be a bit more challenging, especially because of his weight, and that certainly proved to be true. He twisted an ankle and tore his leather armor on the first attempt. After two more flights, however, his landings became smooth, even those designed to simulate landing in the close quarters of city streets.

The simultaneous ground assault was to be executed by the other encampments, since they didn’t have access to the gliders or the training. Resolutes from those encampments began arriving two weeks prior to Freedom Day, carefully positioning themselves in the forest of the mountain’s western face.

Through it all, Lijah kept his distance from Rowan. For most of the
daylight hours, the large knight hunted, providing meat for the Eagle’s Nest encampment. In the evenings, Rowan often saw him perched on a large boulder overlooking the encampment. Rowan tried to ignore the apparent coincidences of Lijah’s story, but every night his mind filled with questions that seemed impossible to answer. He was thankful for Mariah, and their love for each other grew stronger as Freedom Day approached.

They had decided that she would help with the launches of the gliders and then remain on the mountain until the battle was over. This decision gave Rowan great peace, but Mariah seemed to grow more anxious with each passing day.

The last two weeks of preparation seemed endless and impossible, but on the eve of the battle for Laos, all was ready. Tomorrow they would travel to the opposite side of the mountain and prepare for launch at first light of the following morning. Whitley received word that the ground forces were in place. Freedom Day was here.