The Trinity of Heroes (I Will Protect You Book 1)

by Mason Jr. , Jared

  “Well, I know that my daughter is quite impressed with you and quite proud of you as well,” Flint said. “I know she’s in good hands with you, Lawrence.”

  Lawrence felt reassured that the mayor was completely behind Elsie’s decision to start a relationship with a Knight Guard member.

  Elsie reached under the table, grabbed Lawrence’s hand, and gave it a quick squeeze. They held hands tenderly for a while as they finished eating.

  As Lawrence was about to get up to refill his ale, Razzius walked over. He whispered to Lawrence in a serious tone, “Lawrence, can we take a walk? There is something I need to talk to you about.”

  Lawrence nodded, and stood up from the table. “I’ll return shortly, everyone. Excuse me, please.”

  Elsie peered at him quizzically, worriedly, wondering why Lawrence had to leave her side so suddenly. She assumed it was to discuss Knight Guard business, so she didn’t fuss too much.

  Lawrence and Razzius walked silently for a while as they moved away from the festival. Once they were away from the crowds and noise, Razzius and Lawrence sat down on a grassy hill. Razzius breathed deeply, trying to find the words that he needed. He was a Knight now, he had to do this.

  “Razzius, what’s on your mind?” Lawrence asked, wondering why one of his closest friends had needed him to leave the ceremony.

  “Lawrence, I don’t know what to do. My father…” his voice trailed off.

  “I noticed he wasn’t at the Advent of Knighthood today or the reception dinner either. I thought you said he was ill today. Is there something seriously wrong with him?” Lawrence started to become a bit concerned. This seemed like a very odd time for this conversation as Razzius rarely mentioned his father, even when others spoke of their relatives. Furthermore, Lawrence couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Wurn in public, and struggled to form a detailed mental picture of the ex-Knight.

  Razzius didn’t answer for a long while. It was an intense internal struggle. He was so ashamed, but he couldn’t survive any longer if he didn’t tell someone.

  “He wasn’t at the ceremony today because he’s passed out from drinking.” Razzius lowered his head in shame. “I actually asked him not to come. I didn’t even really want him at the ceremony. I’m afraid of him. I’m afraid of how he acts, of what he might do. I’m afraid he’ll embarrass me, or hurt me.”

  Razzius felt as though the weight of a million worlds had been lifted from his shoulders. Finally, he had confided in someone. It felt so good to just tell someone. He no longer carried this burden alone.

  Lawrence’s mouth hung open in disbelief, both at Razzius’ sudden revelation and the fact that it had taken Razzius this long to unveil it. Lawrence didn’t truly understand how difficult this was for Razzius, how hard it was for him to spill this cocooned secret that gestated inside him. This was a situation Lawrence had no experience with, and he wasn’t sure how to react.

  “Razzius…my brother, I’m so sorry to hear that. You don’t deserve that at all. But…what can I do to help you?” Lawrence asked, reflecting a moment on his own father’s shortcomings. In some ways Lawrence envied Razzius, at least he had a father who was alive and around. In others ways though, Lawrence could see that having a father who was constantly around, yet constantly inattentive, inept, and abusive, could be even worse; especially when you wanted to look up to him. At least Lawrence was not relentlessly reminded of the disappointments of his father. Lawrence knew his father had left, so he didn’t waste his time wanting. Instead he spent his time reaching for his own goals. Lawrence understood that Razzius had been forced to see his father’s demons continually manifest themselves. Wurn was always there, preventing Razzius from pushing him out of his mind, and overcoming his relentless torment.

  “I don’t know how you can help me…just listening is a big help, honestly. I…I…I just had to tell someone. I don’t know who else to turn to. Maybe you could ask and see if Benni would let me stay with you and him at his house?” Razzius was fumbling for words, stammering at the ground while he spoke. He had bared his soul, and was not used to the feelings of vulnerability he was experiencing.

  Lawrence thought about Razzius’ request for a moment, and then responded, “We’ll tell Benni about this, Razzius. I bet he will be glad to help out a friend in need. Plus, it would be great to have another training partner. We are Knights now, Razzius. I feel the three of us are mature enough to take care of ourselves.”

  “Thank you, Lawrence. You are a great friend. I know you and Benni will help me. Just try to keep this quiet. I only want you and Benni to know about it at this time.”

  “Of course, Razzius. Your secret is safe with me.”

  The boys sat in silence on the grassy knoll for a few minutes, enjoying the noises of birds chirping melodiously and singing in the trees around them. The cottonwood seeds floated by them and whisked gently in the wind, making for a springtime blizzard. The warm winds brought a thousand smells of blooming flowers to their nostrils. It was a beautiful, warm evening. They planned to discuss the matter with Benni in private later that night after the festivities had ended.

  “I think we should head back to the ceremony, our friends are probably wondering what happened to us,” Lawrence said, prompting him and Razzius to leave the comfort of the hillside and venture back toward the festival. The sun was setting and a deep purple hue had formed across the horizon.

  The two Knights walked back in silence, thinking about each other as a friend. Both were glad to know the other, and even happier the other knew them. It was a bond formed through years of friendship, and one that forged strong feelings between the two men. As they approached the town square their internal reverie was disrupted by a loud, unceremonious commotion.

  “My son, please, someone help!” The bloodcurdling scream came from over by the buffet line.

  Razzius and Lawrence rushed back to the square, and saw a large group of people looking about frantically, trying to figure out what the uproar was.

  It was Helen. She was yelling hysterically and pointing in all directions, trying to get anyone’s attention. She spotted Razzius and Lawrence, and screamed at them, “Please, he’s got Fairen! You have to save my son!”

  The two men glanced about and noticed a masked bandit dragging Fairen away from the festival. The bandit must have crept in through the back of the Silver Shield, and used the low light of dusk to cover his approach. He had slipped up to the buffet line and snatched Fairen from behind his mother, and now he was on his way out of the marketplace. He used the boy as a shield, daring the castle guards to confront him. Fairen’s eyes were filled with fear. He screamed loudly, begging for help as he wriggled and squirmed in the bandit’s grasp.

  The bandit had no clan markings, making Lawrence and Razzius think he was either on an initiation mission or just a vagabond. The bandits who inhabited the surrounding huts and cabins in the wilderness throughout Forme were notorious thieves. They were constant pests, stealing cattle, jewels, weapons and money from the citizens of Haile and other surrounding communities. They rarely killed citizens inside the town, preferring to be discreet about it, but it wasn’t completely out of the question. The Knight Guard spent much of their time chasing these bandits, burning their shacks, and killing their leaders. But there always seemed to be more. Eradicating them was an almost impossible task. The bandits also stole children and ransomed them back to their families. If the families didn’t pay up, they’d find their loved ones disemboweled and discarded outside their front door.

  Razzius knew the murderous ways of the bandit clans, having listened to Bryce’s many stories of his own glorious triumphs over the Red Hook and White Claw clans. Razzius also knew that if this unmarked and unidentified vagabond took Fairen out of the city he would be almost untraceable. The chances of rescuing Fairen would be very slim. Razzius had to act now.

  Razzius raced over to a nearby rack that the Knights had placed their weapons on before eating. He grabbed a long, wood javeli
n with a perfectly sharpened tip. He knew he would have only one chance. He had to be especially true with his aim, ensuring that he didn’t hit Fairen. Fairen struggled mightily in the arms of the bandit, but the masked warrior held his grip firmly. Razzius jumped up on one of the massive tables and readied himself. He aimed like he had practiced many times, and hurled the javelin at the masked bandit.

  “Fairen, duck down, now!” Razzius screamed.

  Fairen elbowed the bandit in the side, and pushed up on the bandit’s arm that was around his throat. The bandit hunched a bit to block the blow. Fairen squirmed free and squatted down. The bandit reflexively straightened up just as the javelin pierced his windpipe. Blood sprayed like a red fountain as the force of the javelin propelled the bandit off of his feet and onto his back. The bandit clutched the javelin stick with both hands, gurgling loudly, trying to prevent the inevitable as he bled out. The javelin stick stood tall in the air, marking the dead body as a reminder to everyone of Razzius’ heroic feat.

  The crowd gasped, unsure for an instant if Fairen had been injured. Fairen found his bearings and scampered away from the dead man’s body, unharmed, except for some scratches and scrapes. He returned to his mother and embraced her in an enormous bear hug. Helen frantically hugged and kissed her youngest son, almost as if she was in disbelief that he was still alive.

  Razzius stood on the giant table, breathing heavy, his chest heaving from adrenaline. He let out an enormous sigh of relief. He knew he had taken a life-or-death gamble. Had he not been true with his aim, or had Fairen not ducked as he told him, the javelin could have easily found a different target. He knew if that had occurred that no one in the town would have ever looked at him the same way again. Furthermore, Razzius could not have lived with himself if he had killed an innocent child, even if he had been trying to save him. Razzius was thankful he didn’t have to face that, and even more thankful that Fairen wasn’t injured.

  The crowd reacted with exuberant elation. They cheered Razzius, patted him on the back, and slapped his hand with theirs. Fairen, Helen, and even Nicholas, embraced him wholeheartedly, tears of joy and relief streaming down their faces. Benni and Lawrence congratulated their friend.

  “All hail Razzius Grimm, the greatest Knight of this generation!” Mayor Flint proclaimed. “I decree that a portrait of you will be hung in the Hall of Heroes for all eternity, so that everyone may know of your bravery today! In only your first day of being a Knight you have accomplished a Knight of Haile’s greatest honor. You have saved one of its citizens from certain harm! Thank you, Razzius!”

  Captain Maxwell praised Razzius as he held his hand high in the air, turning Razzius around in a circle so that every member of the crowd could feast their eyes on the great Knight. Razzius basked in the glowing admiration of the crowd; this was the recognition he had hoped for when he had signed up for the Knight Guard. This was the vision that got him through those isolated times. He had dreamed of the fame, the fortune, the glamour that came with being one of Haile’s greatest Knights. Whereas all Knights were respected by the citizens, the top Knights were revered, and treated like gods wherever they went. This was the level that Razzius wanted to achieve, and in only a few short hours he had accomplished his goal. He would surely be promoted quickly. From now on, no matter where he traveled in Haile, he would be known as one of the city’s greatest heroes. Sure, word of his accomplishment would have traveled quickly anyways, but he didn’t even need to wait for everyone to learn of his undertaking. No, he had saved a young boy’s life in the most public setting. The mayor himself had seen it with his own eyes.

  Mayor Flint motioned to the many servants stationed throughout the festival, and then to a group of bards and musicians. He didn’t want to waste any more time. The servants began clearing away the food and drinks, and the musicians began playing upbeat, joyful tunes. This was a time of celebration, after all. The tables were pushed outward to the sides of the courtyard and a huge dance ensued. Lawrence and Elsie clung to each other, and swayed slowly in the sea of dancing bodies. Elsie was still shaken from the tumultuous events that had just transpired. She grabbed Lawrence tight, embracing him, comforted by the feelings of strength and security she felt while in his muscular arms.

  Benni danced with other single members of the Knight Guard in a large circle. He longed to meet that special someone, but was as nervous as every other young man about being rejected. He displayed incredible confidence and skills in his training exercises, but he fumbled his words recklessly when he spoke to the young ladies. He was more comfortable socializing with his Knight Guard brethren over a glass of ale. He glanced regretfully, from time to time, at Lawrence and Elsie, hoping that one day he could experience the unity they shared.

  Every young girl wanted to dance with Razzius, the newly anointed hero of Haile. Razzius wasn’t used to this type of attention, especially from the ladies, but he was willing to adjust. He treated each girl with delicate attention and kindness, doing his best not to embarrass them in public with his awkward dance skills. He had found a new confidence when he joined the Knight Guard, and the roar of the crowd and the attention they showed him, only stoked it further. He moved from one beautiful girl to the next, experiencing no rejection from the swooning ladies. The thrill of being the center of attention, especially to the ladies, spared his mind from the melancholy thoughts he had shared with Lawrence earlier. He forgot that his father was at home, probably drunk, and unaware of his son’s great accomplishment.

  Chapter 23:

  Strong and spicy, smooth and easy. Welcome to paradise! A legendary brew for all your pains and pleasures. Let Green Bryre Ale lead you to new adventures.

  - Street Promotion for Green Bryre Ale

  As the festival began to wind down, Razzius parted ways with his new, adoring harem of fans. He said his goodbyes to his friends and rushed home, the sound of the crowd’s applause and adulation still ringing in his mind. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, drugging him with its aphrodisiac high. This was an accomplishment few ever relished, and he had done it only a few hours after being knighted. He would be remembered, revered forever, in the annals of Veronician history. A grand portrait of him would be hung in the Hall of Heroes. Rescuing a citizen of Haile was a Knight’s greatest honor; one Razzius would now share for eternity. He had done it at only eighteen years of age, the youngest ever to record the feat. He couldn’t wait to tell his father of his achievement. Even though his father thought Razzius was wasting his time in the Knight Guard, Razzius was certain that his recognition as a hero throughout Haile would be enough to gain his father’s proud acceptance.

  Razzius was drawn from his daydream by the deafening silence of the long, deserted alleyway that led to his home. The lights and commotion of the festival were only a memory to him as he stared at his isolated, quiet, shuttered home beset by the unwelcoming hill that overlooked it. There was barely any light in the alley tonight, even the moon strayed away. Only a small candle flickered inside the front window, no doubt marking his father’s resting place. The outside, though neat and tidy, beckoned him with its foreboding presence. The house always felt like more of a prison to Razzius, and he hated how his return made him feel like he had been sentenced for a crime. Thoughts of his earlier conversation with Lawrence rushed back to him now, and he lamented forgetting to discuss things with Benni. The door creaked open as Razzius cautiously stepped inside the wood frame. He was disappointed he would have to wait until morning to tell his father of his triumph. He knew Wurn would be sleeping, and that it was best not to wake him. His father was terribly irritable if awoken suddenly. The candle flickered in the wind, casting shadows about the main kitchen. Razzius could see the slumped outline of his father, passed out in a large wood chair. The floorboards creaked eerily as Razzius walked over to him. He cleared dishes full of half-eaten food off of the tray on his lap, and two bottles of potent booze. At least he didn’t soil himself. His father snored loudly, oblivious to his son’s company.


  As Razzius meandered about the dark kitchen, he smashed his foot into a stuck out chair leg. He lost his balance for a moment, and the half-empty bottles of alcohol clanged to the floor, landing on top of each other, spilling their contents. The commotion caused his father to grunt unintelligibly and stir in the chair. It was as though he possessed a bond with the precious substances, the loss of his children too much for him to sleep through. He awoke in a startled, drunken daze.

  “What in Sora’s name is going on here?!” he bellowed, slurring his words as he struggled to his feet.

  Razzius had bent down to pick up the toppled bottles, but he cringed at the sound of his father’s voice. He didn’t want to deal with Wurn’s over-aggressiveness at this hour. He wouldn’t be able to talk sensibly with his father anyway. He hoped that his father would go back to sleep.

  “Boy, is that you? Where have you been all night?” His father had already forgotten about the knighting ceremony, and was almost completely incoherent as he shakily held the candle in front of him to cast a veil of light about the area.

  “Hello, Father. I just got home. I’m on my way to bed now,” Razzius said firmly, slowly, hoping that Wurn would accept it and leave him alone.

  “What are you doing bent over the floor there, boy?” Wurn prodded. “Stand up when I’m talking to you.” Wurn stumbled closer to Razzius’ position.

  Razzius obeyed. He stood up, revealing the stain of alcohol on the floor. He prayed his father would not see it.

  Wurn didn’t have to rely on his sight. He smelled the stench of spilled liquor, and like a hawk to its prey, his eyes went wide with fury. “You insolent, no good, useless bastard!” Wurn screeched, horrified at the sight of his lost sustenance. “Why can’t you keep your filthy hands off of my stuff?!”

  “Oh, Father, please don’t be upset,” Razzius pleaded. “I have great news to tell you.”