Sir Rowan and the Camerian Conquest (26 page)

Rowan’s last thought was of holding Mariah in his arms. Then everything went dark.

LIFE LIKE THE PRINCE

Lucius left Rowan’s and Lijah’s bodies in the square beneath the tree for all to see—evidence that he had overcome two of the Prince’s mightiest warriors. Even those who had heeded their message dared not take the corpses for burial. They hid in their houses while the wicked men and women of the kingdom shouted and made merry over the news of the knights’ deaths. But the celebration of evil did not last long, for Lucius and his minions did not realize that the Life Spice the Prince had given to Rowan and Lijah was working in the brothers’ still forms.

Two days their bodies lay in the square for the people to scorn, but on the third day the people of the land trembled at the sight of the work of the King … a work that had not been accomplished since the day the Prince Himself conquered the treachery of Lucius and the taint of death.

“Rowan.”

The sound was hollow and distant, and it seemed buried in the thunderous sound of an avalanche.

“Rowan.”

Something now tugged on his hand, but his body seemed paralyzed, and he couldn’t respond.

Rowan breathed, and it seemed as if it was the first time he had ever used his lungs. At first it hurt, but then the air seemed to cleanse his whole body. Not far away, he could make out the jeers of thousands of people laughing, screaming, and shouting obscenities against the King, the Prince, Lijah, and himself.

“Rowan,” he distinctly now heard his name, and Lijah was calling it. Had the Shadow Warriors mistakenly left them alive?

“I am here, Lijah,” Rowan said with difficulty.

“It is time to get up,” Lijah said.

Rowan faintly remembered his final moments before losing consciousness and the extreme challenge he had in crawling just a few feet to Lijah. How could he possibly get up?

Rowan very slowly turned his head toward Lijah and saw they were still lying in the same position, Rowan’s hand on top of Lijah’s.

“Are you able, my brother?” Rowan said, now fully conscious and amazed that Lijah was still alive. “How can we yet be alive?”

“By the power of the King,” Lijah replied. “The work of the Life Spice within us is complete, and it is time to get up. Our mission is accomplished, and the Prince is calling us home.”

Rowan couldn’t imagine being able to move, for Lucius’s sword had pierced his side, and the pain before he fell unconscious had been unbearable.

Still … “I will try, my brother.”

Rowan gathered himself for a moment, much as he did when lying in bed on a cold morning, waiting for the strength and will to rise.

“The King reigns,” Lijah began once more.

“And His Son!” Rowan replied. At that proclamation, Rowan felt life pour into his bones and muscles. He sat up, and so did Lijah.

“Look!”

Rowan first heard a scream, then a collective gasp from thousands of lungs. “Impossible!” cried a voice. The shouts of alarm and exclamations elevated in volume.

Rowan lifted himself to one knee, fully expecting an avalanche of pain to cripple his efforts, but the pain did not come. He looked at Lijah
and saw him, too, rise to one knee. Unspeakable joy filled his heart as the strength of his body returned to him. He reached out to Lijah, and the two brothers grasped hands. Together they rose to stand once more, their legs weak and shaking but gaining strength by the second.

The crowd was now in a state of sheer panic. People began to run every direction, screaming unintelligibly.

“Come, my brother,” Lijah said. “He awaits.”

Rowan and Lijah began walking south through the streets of Chessington, leaving a wake of shock on the face of every citizen who saw them. Some people fainted while others fell to their knees, begging the brothers not to harm them. A few shouted praises to the King, but they were few.

Thousands of astonished people followed Rowan and Lijah as they continued south toward the Great Sea. Finally they reached the docks of Chessington. Off the end of the longest dock, a grand ship was moored, ready to sail. Two mighty warriors stood side by side just before the gangplank. Their swords were drawn and ready as they waited for their precious cargo to arrive.

Rowan and Lijah approached the warriors and stopped just a few feet before them. Rowan recognized them as the two Silent Warriors they had briefly encountered when they were fleeing the stadium at Kroywen. The warriors lowered their swords and stepped aside, allowing Rowan and Lijah to board.

They walked up the gangplank and onto the deck of the gallant ship. Before them stood the One who had met them on the fringe of the Altica Valley months earlier … the Prince Himself. Both men fell to one knee before Him and lowered their heads.

Rowan felt the mighty hand of the Prince on his shoulder. “Rise, my good and faithful servants.”

Rowan and Lijah stood and took in the warm glow of the Prince’s gaze.

“My Lord,” Rowan said, “we proclaimed Your name to all the people, and many became Followers, but many more would not listen.”

“You have done well, Rowan and Lijah. The hearts of men and
women cannot be forced, only called, and that you have done. You sacrificed much, and great is your reward. Tonight I will gather the rest of My people, and we will all feast with My Father in the Kingdom Across the Sea.”

“What of Lucius, my Lord?” Rowan asked. “And Gavaah in Cameria … and Malizimar in Daydelon … and the Shadow Warriors?”

“The days of Lucius and his Shadow Warriors are numbered.” The Prince looked soberly past Rowan and Lijah to the city of Chessington and beyond. “I will return to conquer them, and you will reign with Me in the land. There shall be no end to My kingdom, and the people will prosper in peace.”

The Prince dropped His gaze to the brothers and smiled. “But now is the time for your hearts to be filled with joy.”

The Prince stepped aside and held out His arm toward the door of the main cabin ten paces away. One of the two Silent Warriors who had met them slowly opened the door, and Rowan held his breath as a vision of wonderment appeared before him.

“Mariah,” he whispered, tears flooding his eyes.

His wife stood whole and beautiful, with her arms outstretched. They ran to each other, and Rowan threw his arms around her. He held her tightly for a long while.

“I’ve missed you so,” she whispered.

Rowan breathed in the sweet fragrance of her hair, burying his face in its softness.

“Mariah,” he said tenderly. “Praise the King you are here. Please don’t ever leave me.”

Mariah leaned back from him and put her hand to his cheek.

“Never, my love. Never again … forever!”

ACROSS THE GREAT SEA

There are those who die for the empty and worthless things of this kingdom, like silver, gold, and the acclaim of the crowds. There are those who die for noble reasons such as duty and honor. But there are a select few who will lay down their lives so that others might live. Such men were Sir Rowan and Sir Lijah. The courage they found through the Prince and the strength He gave them is far beyond anything this kingdom can understand. However, their kingdom is not of Arrethtrae, but of a place much greater.

The telling of the story of the great Sir Rowan is one that has hushed the tongues of babes to silence … one that gives occasion for us to pause and learn much. For in spite of the King’s profound call upon his life, the great knight was nearly destroyed by the deceitful ploy of the Dark Knight. His collapse into pride was costly, for every dire vice brings dire consequences. And yet the King’s ability to recover a heart that repents of even this great of an offense is not limited. Be encouraged, therefore, for though you may have failed the King, He will
never
fail you nor cease in calling you home.

On the day that Sir Rowan and Sir Lijah rose up and departed Chessington, the Prince sent forth His Silent Warriors as reapers throughout all of Arrethtrae to harvest the men, women, and children who had
chosen to follow Him. Rowan and Mariah were jubilantly reunited that night with her father, Julian, and Sir Aldwyn. The silent exodus of many thousands was a time of great joy, as chronicled in previous parchments. But it was also a time of great woe, for the debauchery of Lucius, under the false name of Alexander Histen, went unabated, and his terror spread quickly throughout all four corners of the kingdom. Those left behind who did not bow or pledge their allegiance or take the Dark Knight’s mark on their hand were beaten, jailed, and even executed. Lucius used fear to rule and forced all people in every region to submit to him as king of Arrethtrae.