Forever Knight (The Champion Chronicles Book 3)

by Brad Clark

  Conner’s stomach rumbled. “And food, I hope.”

  “There is little to be had here, I am afraid.”

  “We will need to find a bow and a hunting knife, too. Unless we have a horse, we won’t be able to carry enough food with us, so we’ll have to find our own.”

  “You can hunt, then?” Hargon asked.

  “Of course.”

  “I have spent little time outside the city. Hunting and foraging for food is not quite my thing. How far is it to your South Karmon?”

  Conner stood up and stretched more, continuing to shake the stiffness out of his joints. He looked to the east, but there were too many trees around them to see far. “We’ll cross over into the White Mountains and then head south along the shore of the gulf. If the passes are clear, then it could take us a good two weeks. More if the weather goes bad.”

  “You’ve been across the mountains before?”

  Conner shook his head. “Only coming west. And I’ve never been in the mountains in the winter. I’ve had no desire to and no reason to. If we can avoid it, we should. I only know of the mountain passes that I took to come over here to Taran. There could be others, but I don’t know of them. And if the passes are closed and the snow is too deep, then we’ll have to wait until spring.”

  Conner knew that they could not wait that long. There was no desperation in Michael’s voice or demeanor, but there certainly was urgency. Getting to the Ark of Life as quickly as they could was important, but Conner had other reasons to get back home. He really missed the South Karmon, and of course Elissa. The thought of her being there kept him motivated to keep moving towards home. He was still frustrated with himself for leaving in the first place, but it was certainly possible, if not very likely, that if he had stayed, the Royal Guard would have arrested him for killing Neffenmark. If he had stayed and somehow kept from getting arrested for killing his kingdom’s king, he would never have met the emperor or Taran. He would never have been killed in the Taran fighting arena, which means he would not have met Michael and been given the task of finding the Ark of Life.

  Behind Hargon, almost directly above his head was the bright star that had been visible day and night for many months. At first he had been distracted by it, always looking at it, always wondering what it was. But after so many months, he was so used to it that he hardly noticed it anymore. But there it was, shining brightly down upon them. It had been when he first met Elissa that the light came and he could not help but think that the two were related. Was it really possible that the bright star somehow foretold the destiny that was being laid out before him? He finally understood something that Michael had said. Michael had been waiting for him to die so that they could meet. And yet, for him to die, and fulfill his task, he would have had have to been revived. It could not have been coincidence that Hargon had happened upon him just at the right time. It had to be something bigger, much bigger than he could understand.

  A shiver went up his spine as he realized how many different pieces had to fall in place just at the right time for him to meet Michael. So many different people, from so many different parts of the world, needed to be doing the right thing and in just the right place. And if all these things were coming together at this one point in time, and he was right in the middle of it, then maybe this task was truly something much bigger than he had imagined.

  Conner’s heart started to race as the realization of what he could be involved in came over him. This wasn’t a game. It wasn’t the life or death of a princess; it was so much bigger. The fate of the entire world could rest on his shoulders and he needed to be strong enough to handle it. But he was just a barely a man. The task at hand was just too great for him.

  Hargon looked at him and said, “It is time to go. We’ve already wasted too much daylight.”

  “Just another moment,” Conner said softly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “This. All of this. Whoever Michael is, whatever he is, he asked me to do something that I can’t do.”

  Hargon scratched his beard. “What do you mean, you can’t do it?”

  “I’d always wanted to go to Taran. I’d heard stories from travelers who would come through my village when I was a little boy. They told grand stories of adventure and wonders. They would spend hours just describing the city and how wonderful it was and how big it was. And it is. It is great. It is huge. It’s bigger and better than I could ever have imagined, but I spent most of my time there in a cell, fighting for my life. I had to kill to survive. And not just kill, but slaughter.”

  “We all have those things that we must do.”

  “Yeah, well, I just want to go back to my old life.”

  “And where was that?”

  “I lived with my aunt. But I spent most of my time in the woods, hunting and camping. It was quiet and peaceful. No one was trying to kill me or asking me to do things I could never do. I can’t steal this Ark! Why would he ask me to do this thing?”

  “It sounds like you had a boring life. We’ve been in the woods just a couple days, and I want to kill myself because I’m bored.”

  “You’re an emperor! Talk about living an exciting life! You are the ruler of the greatest empire the world has ever known. You can do anything you want and you can have anyone do anything you want!”

  “Have you taken a good long look at me? My hair is tangled and ratty. My beard is long and it itches like you can’t believe. My brother has been trying to kill me for years and he will be doing whatever he can to find me. He will tear apart my city if he thinks I’m still there. He’ll hunt me down to the ends of the earth, if need be. How great is that?”

  “Listen,” Hargon continued after a moment to take a deep breath. “I didn’t live a great life. I couldn’t just ride outside the city and see the countryside. I couldn’t make friends with anyone I wanted. I had to act a certain way, say things the right way, always be the emperor and never just Hargon. So don’t go holding me up as the person you’d rather be. As a matter of fact, I envy you. I’d much rather be you than me. Especially since you are also about half my age, and I’d like to be young again.”

  “I’m not sure I can do this.”

  “Finding the Ark?”

  “Yes. Finding it, hiding it. All of it. If I have it, don’t you think your brother and the Deceiver will come after me to try and take it back? And it’s not like I could ever stand up against them!” He let out a long sigh. “I wish Master Goshin were here. He always knew what to say.”

  “Master Goshin?”

  “A friend of mine,” Conner said with sadness in his voice. “Your brother killed him, right in front of me, and right in front of everyone in the area.”

  “Tarcious always liked theatrics.”

  “Your brother is pure evil. I am going to kill him.”

  Hargon smiled. “If we catch him together, I’ll hold him down.”

  Conner let a laugh out. “Deal.”

  “You’re not alone in this. I am here with you and the two of us together can figure this out. You’re not worthy, I’m not worthy, but someone has to do this. It might as well be us.”

  “Let’s get moving, then.”

  ***

  As the sun climbed the sky on their fourth day out from Tara City, Conner took the lead through the thick underbrush of the Taran wilderness. They avoided the main highway between Tara City and Iseron, which made their journey longer, but allowed them to avoid being seen by travelers and patrolling centurions. Being far off the beaten path also gave them the confidence to light a fire at night to keep them warm. Although the memory of bandits was fresh in his mind, Conner knew that if they didn’t keep a fire lit at night, they wouldn’t survive the cold night.

  Following game trails kept them moving quickly, although not quite in a straight line. But it kept them from having to force their way through thick underbrush. Mostly they walked single file in silence. There was little to say between an emperor and a simple commoner, but Conner was glad for the s
ilence. He spent much of his time thinking of Master Goshin, replaying the many lessons that he had been taught. And besides, if they had been chatting, they never would have heard the voices.

  Conner had come to a stop first, raising a hand to silence Hargon when he had started to ask a question. He closed his eyes and tuned out everything around him. He focused not on any words that were being said, but just on the voices to try and discover where they were coming from.

  Finally, Conner pointed in the general direction that the game trail had been taking them.

  “They are ahead of us,” Conner said softly.

  “Bandits?” Hargon asked.

  “I don’t know. Could you understand them?”

  “I thought I could hear some Taran words, but I can’t be sure. How far away?”

  “Voices in the forest are hard to track. Sometimes they carry a long way, but not always. We should check them out. If we can be quiet about it, they will never know that we are near.”

  “Should we not keep going to Iseron?”

  “We have to know who it is. If they are bandits, we’ll just hunker down and let them leave the area and then we’ll head on to Iseron. If we just continue on, they may hear us, and if they are bandits, then we’ll be in trouble. Unless you can do one of those fireball things like your brother can do?”

  Hargon let out a grunt, “Of course not.”

  “Stay low and be quiet,” Conner ordered. With slow, patient steps, he led them towards the voices.

  The game trail met up with a small creek that continued in a general southeasterly direction. The scent of salt filled his senses, so he knew that they were close to the Gulf of Taran once again. The trail came to an end soon after they had followed the creek, but they continued moving through the light underbrush. With all the leaves gone from the trees and bushes, it made it easier to find a quick way through the trees. It also made Conner feel better about the possibility of bandits in the forest. With no leaves, it would have been difficult, but not impossible, to find good places to hide. But now, as the sun hovering above the western horizon, he was more worried about surviving the night in the cold than bandits.

  Louder shouts caused Conner and Hargon to freeze. They were close, maybe a hundred yards away through the trees. Although there were no leaves on the trees, the forest was still thick enough that they couldn’t see too far. The creek widened and its high banks flattened, which made it easier to walk next to the water. Conner continued onward cautiously.

  The creek made a sharp bend and then opened up into a lake. A large tree had fallen at the entrance, which partially obscured their view of the lake. Conner climbed up on the log and looked out onto the open water, ignoring Hargon’s incessant questions about what he saw.

  “If you want to see,” Conner shot back with a whisper. “You come up here.”

  Conner stood precariously on top of the fallen tree, using only his balance to keep him up. It had taken an acrobatic move just to get from the bank to the tree in the first place, something Hargon knew he couldn’t do. He kept his mouth shut and waited for Conner.

  After some time, Conner jumped back down to the bank of the creek. “There is a ship,” Conner said. “And a small boat rowing from the ship to shore.”

  “Is it a Taran ship?” Hargon asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve seen some Taran ships and this one doesn’t look like it. It’s much different.”

  “I think we should try and see if they’ll take us to Iseron, or at least see if they have some supplies.”

  Conner looked hard at the former emperor. “What if it’s a Taran Naval ship filled with centurions looking for you?”

  Hargon just shrugged his shoulders. “What if they’re not? What if they’re just merchants who don’t know anything about us? Do you want to spend another cold night out here? With only roots and bugs to eat?”

  Conner let out a long sigh. “Fine.”

  Without another word, Conner led them through the underbrush to the edge of the water. The ship was near the center of the lake, likely because the draft of the ship was too much for the shallow waters. The forest wrapped around the lake, but they could see an opening to the south where the lake fed into the Gulf of Taran. The ship was long and lean, constructed unlike anything either Conner or Hargon had ever seen. There were two masts, one in the center, and one near the bow. The sails were down and the anchor was deployed. They could see movement on the deck of the ship, but more importantly, they could see a boat rowing towards shore.

  “They look harmless enough,” Hargon said.

  Conner pointed to their right. “They are heading for that beach. We’ll wait until they land, and then we’ll come out and greet them. Hopefully they won’t try and kill us first.”

  Conner and Hargon slipped back into the trees and moved as silently as they could towards the beach. They watched from behind a large fallen tree as the small boat approached. There were four people in the boat. Two of them were rowing and the other two were holding up a large cask. As they got to the short, sandy beach, one of the rowers climbed up onto the bow and with a rope in one hand, leaped incredibly far from the boat to the sand. He turned and pulled the boat up until it was firmly stuck. The other three sailors climbed out of the boat while the fourth ran the rope up the beach and tied it around a tree.

  As he was walking back towards the other three, the first sailor glanced back to where Hargon and Conner were hiding. Conner knew that he couldn’t have been seen, as they were hidden behind thick underbrush. They hadn’t moved and hadn’t hardly breathed at all, but Conner had a feeling that they were spotted.

  The leaping sailor gathered with his companions and they were obviously talking, but in a volume that couldn’t be heard. Conner thought there was something odd about the sailors, but he couldn’t place what it was. They were all lean and tall with straight hair of varying lengths. They were dressed a bit oddly, as far as Conner was concerned, but he had never seen many sailors in his life, so he didn’t know if they were dressed normally or not. But they certainly weren’t dressed for the cold, winter air. They had pants that only went to just below the knees, and their feet were bare. That was the oddest thing that Conner noticed. No boots or shoes, just bare feet. But they certainly didn’t act like they were cold, even when they were standing on wet land. He was cold just watching them.

  With their conversation obviously done, all four sailors turned and looked directly towards Conner and Hargon. Conner looked at the former emperor, who just shrugged his shoulders. The sailors didn’t act threatening or make any motions that they felt threatened, either. They simply stood, looking directly at them. Finally, Conner stood and pushed his way through the underbrush. Hargon followed.

  “Hello!” Conner shouted, with a friendly wave. He walked across the loose sand, directly towards the sailors. They did not acknowledge him and remained still. All three had daggers stuck in their belts, but they did not draw them or act like they were going to draw them.

  “Hoy!” Hargon shouted, giving a common greeting in Taran.

  This caused the four sailors to glance at one another. Conner and Hargon came to a stop about ten feet away. Close enough to talk, but far enough to not be threatening.

  One of the sailors stepped forward. He looked the oldest, but that wasn’t saying much. All four looked very young, not much older than Conner. Their faces were smooth and chiseled. Their eyes large and their eye lashes long and dark. They spoke some words, but Conner did not recognize anything he was saying. He turned to Hargon, who was looking at the man closely.

  “He has pointed ears,” Hargon said.

  Then Conner realized that was the odd thing that he could not place. All their ears came to a point at the top, something that he only knew from stories he heard as a young child. He remembered that they had been called elves, but the elves of his stories didn’t look like these four. The elves of his childhood were always described as short and fat with rosy cheeks and a mischievous demeanor.r />
  The first sailor spoke again.

  This time, Hargon nodded his head and said to Conner, “They speak Taran. A very formal version of Taran like what is spoken only in special ceremonies. He is asking why we were hiding from them.”

  “Are they elves?”

  “You mean the mythical creatures of legend? Creatures that sneak into bedrooms at night and steal children to eat them?”

  “What?”

  “When I was a child, I had an old maid that told stories of magical creatures that fueled their magical powers by consuming young children who didn’t fall asleep when it was time to get to bed. She called them elves. I never believed her.”

  “How about now?”

  “I still don’t believe her.” He stepped forward, spreading his hands to show that he was unarmed. To the sailors, he said, “Greetings!”

  The first sailor turned to his three companions and spoke for a moment. They nodded and retrieved the cask from the small boat. They placed the cask on the beach and placed a long tube from the top of the cask and into the water. In the center of the hose was a bubble that one of the sailors began squeezing. After about five squeezes, water started to flow through the tube and into the cask.

  While the cask was being filled, Hargon spoke with the first sailor. Both seemed to have a hard time with the conversation and many words were repeated. Although the sailors could speak and understand some Taran, they weren’t very proficient in the language.

  “I told them that we had seen their ship and were curious about them as we are looking to gain passage to a small city to the east. They do not seem interested at all in taking us aboard.”

  “What about provisions?” Conner asked.

  Hargon relayed the question. After the sailor replied, Hargon turned to Conner and said, “They have some fish they could offer us, but little else. They seem not to have need for blankets or fur pelts as they claim to have none to give us.”