Forever Knight (The Champion Chronicles Book 3)

by Brad Clark

  “Oh.”

  Roland just shook his head and turned away. They needed to be fast, but Berrien was the wildcard. He was most likely going to panic and freeze, but if his only responsibility was the other woman in the chamber, it might not matter. He would dispatch the queen quickly and then return back out this door. Without any guards in the lower levels, they might just be able to get out alive. They had been lucky so far that they had not been found out. He just hoped their luck lasted a few more minutes.

  “Ready?”

  Peter nodded, but Berrien only looked at the door, waiting for it to open.

  ***

  Elissa let out a sigh of relief now that the dress was off. Although she loved to wear flowing gowns, the girdle worn underneath was always just a bit too tight and became increasingly uncomfortable over the course of a long night. In its place, she now wore a loose fitting wool dress that kept her warm, but more importantly, was very comfortable.

  “He has become smitten with you,” Kimmie said.

  Elissa was sitting on a small bench while Kimmie brushed her hair. Her feelings for Toknon were seemingly growing by the moment. With each interaction, her hatred of both him and his kingdom became less and less. She could not say that she loved him, as her feelings were not quite to that level. Yet. But she could see herself falling for him in time.

  “He is still a bit rough around the edges,” Elissa said.

  “Aren’t they all?” Kimmie replied with a giggle.

  Even Conner had his rough side. But his rough side wasn’t the gritty side of a soldier. It was simply the rough side of a commoner.

  She let out a long sigh of frustration. No matter how hard she tried, thoughts of Conner kept coming back to her. Maybe if he were still alive, she could let her thoughts and feelings go back to him. But he was dead, and there was no sense in dwelling on the past. For the first time in many days, she kept herself from crying while thinking about him.

  She sensed the movement before she saw it. Turning her head to the back door, she wondered why the guard who was posted down at the bottom of the stairs was coming into her room. But as the three men came rushing in, she realized that something was horribly wrong.

  She sprang to her feet while Kimmie screamed, frozen in fear.

  Elissa had no weapons, so she looked up at the wall where Conner’s two swords were hung. They were the only memento from their time together that she had kept. If she moved fast enough, she might be able to get to them in time and maybe defend herself. But as she took a step towards the wall, she realized the wall was empty. The swords were gone. Then she felt fear.

  As soon as Kimmie started screaming, the far door burst open, King Toknon filling the doorway, sword drawn. One of the men had ran straight towards the open door, his sword drawn and swinging towards Toknon. Toknon easily parried the wild swing and engaged the man with his own offensive attack.

  With Peter attacking the man at the door, Roland came at Elissa, bloodied longsword in hand, ready to attack. Kimmie continued to scream. The clash of sword on sword came from the doorway where Peter was trying to quickly dispatch Toknon.

  While he approached Elissa, he pointed at Kimmie and said to Berrien, “Kill the wench!”

  Berrien walked towards the young woman cautiously, his dagger held out in front of him. Kimmie’s eyes, already wide with fear, went even wider as she realized what was happening. She continued to scream, unable to move or react.

  Berrien had never killed before, and his stomach did flip-flops as he came at the unarmed girl. There was something wrong about this. Killing this girl, killing the queen, it just felt wrong. He knew why it needed to be done, but that didn’t make himself feel any better about it. He held the dagger in his right and lifted his left up to place it over the screaming girl’s mouth.

  Kimmie didn’t resist. She let Berrien put his hands over her mouth, which silenced her. Every muscle in her body was frozen, unable to move or react to what was happening. Her wide eyes watched as the long dagger was plunged deep into her abdomen. She thought it would hurt, but it did not. There was no pain, only a strange sense as the dagger went in, came out, and went in again. Her muscles then failed her and she fell to her knees. Tears came out of her eyes as she closed them for the last time.

  Berrien could not stop. The thought of killing her had disgusted him at first, but with each stab, he became more and more intrigued at what was happening. The power over life and death was thrilling. It was a euphoria that he had never experienced. All of the mind altering substances he had taken did not equal the incredible feeling that overcame him.

  Elissa did not see Berrien strike the killing blow, for she had her own problems. A man with a very long and bloody sword came at her. And he would kill her unless something miraculous happened.

  Roland’s smiling lips parted and he said, “You will die, queen. Just as your city will die before the day is gone!”

  His words had drawn away any fear that she had left. In its place was anger. “You will die, too! My guards will kill you!”

  “I am a soldier,” Roland said. “It is my duty to serve my empire and die for its glory. They are too late for you!”

  “I am not too late!” Toknon shouted, jumping in front of Elissa. His sword was bloodied as well.

  Elissa looked over at the door. The third man that had come into the room was slumped against the door. There was blood all over his tunic and it was starting to pool on the ground in front of him.

  “Where are the guards?” Elissa shouted, expecting them to come racing into her chamber to save them all. But the antechamber was empty.

  “I am here,” Toknon said, starting his attack on Roland.

  Roland met the attack with his sword and a smile. “Your kingdom will be next, Toknon.”

  With cool precision, Toknon continued the attack, unwilling to engage in Roland’s banter.

  Safe for the moment, Elissa turned away from the sword fight to see if she could save Kimmie, who had stopped screaming. But it was too late. She was on the ground, her body bloodied and unmoving. The man who killed her stood over her, his dagger and right arm covered in blood. He looked up at Elissa and smiled, as if saying that she was next.

  Berrien stepped over the dead girl’s body towards the queen. His mind was blank and numb. He could only see blood and death in front of him. Right now, his only duty was to his empire, and that meant assassinating the queen.

  Toknon saw Berrien and tried to disengage from Roland, but the centurion commander would not let him. They were nearly equal in skill, each unable to gain an advantage over the other. With a sudden fear, he realized that is exactly what Roland wanted. He did not want to kill Toknon, at least right now. He just needed to give the other man time to get to Elissa.

  In a desperate move to disengage, he tried to push Roland out of the way, but he exposed himself too much and Roland gave him a deep cut across his upper arm. The searing pain distracted him enough that Roland pressed his attack, making it impossible for Toknon to get away without losing the fight and his life.

  Berrien marched toward Elissa, his face still stuck in a wide grin. She wasn’t sure which terrified her more, the dagger in his hand, or the evil look on his face. Without any way to defend herself, she started backing away, hoping that the man would just go away. But he did not; he continued forward. She knew she was weak, too weak to defend herself. Even if she had a sword, or dagger, or even a small knife, she didn’t know how to defend herself. If she had been a boy, she would have spent the past ten years of her life learning how to fight, learning how to use a sword to defend herself. Instead, she had spent all that time being a girl, dressing up in pretty dresses, taking long rides through the forest, and sharing gossip with her closest friends. Nothing that she had done had prepared her for being queen or defending her kingdom.

  And because of that, she would die, and her kingdom would be run over by an army from a nation that had promised peace. Right in front of her, Kimmie was on the groun
d, still and dead. Blood covered her body. She had died without a fight, letting this man slaughter her like a farm animal. She would not go so easily.

  She had seen many tournaments in her life, although she had spent most of them chatting with her friends and not watching the actual fighting. But she had seen some, and decided her only way to survive would be to mimic what they did. She lowered her body into a crouch, one foot in front of the other. She did not know why they had done it, but as soon as she did it, she realized that she gave her opponent less of a target. Her hands were out in front of her, ready to try and deflect any blows. She let out a sneer as she had seen the combatants do, hoping it would strike fear into her own opponent.

  It did not. He rushed forward, dagger raised to strike at her chest.

  She let him get close and then as his hand went up high to strike her from above, she caught him around his wrist with both her hands. His forward momentum caught her off guard, and she tumbled backwards onto the ground. But she still held onto his wrists, keeping him from striking down on her. But the man was stronger than she was, and she could feel her strength giving out.

  Berrien knew it was only time. He was on top of her, pushing down on the dagger. Even though she had a vice grip on his wrist, the queen was struggling to keep the dagger off her. It would only be moments before the dagger would plunge into her chest, killing her instantly. He pushed harder and his smile grew wider. Until his face suddenly went blank and his eyes got wide. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. With no more strength in his body, the dagger fell out of his grip. The queen slid from underneath him and he fell onto his face.

  Elissa rolled away and jumped to her feet. Toknon was finishing off his opponent with the help of a guard who had just rushed into the room. One of the other former knights was standing over Berrien and drove his sword into the dead man’s back one more time, just to make sure he was dead.

  She dropped to her knees at Kimmie’s side and pulled her up and held her close. She cried not because she was afraid or even because she was sad at the loss of her friend. She cried because she was angry that she was unable to protect her friend, to protect herself. Toknon came over to comfort her, but she pushed him away, not wanting anyone close to her.

  “It is over,” Toknon said. “They are all dead. Are you okay?”

  Elissa did not reply, she rocked Kimmie in her arms, letting the tears fall.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Marik raced to the top of the city walls. The winding staircase that led to the battlements was steep and he took them two at a time. By the time he reached the last step, he was panting hard. He told himself that it was because of the extra weapons and armor that he wore, but in truth, he had hardly been training at all since winter came. He had a good excuse, as he had been on the move for so long. But it convinced him that he needed to get back onto the practice field.

  If he survived the day.

  He doubted there would be any real battle today. Once they confirmed that the army was out there, they would no longer need to hide and would probably start to march down from the forest and attempt to establish position in the open field between the city and the forest. While they did that, he would begin harassing attacks to keep them from getting too comfortable. And it would give them time to build up their own army so that they could counter attack. Then the fight for the city would begin.

  There were seven riders on the fastest horses in the stables. He chose all young men, former squires, who were adept with the horse and were fearless. It would take some time for them to make their way through the streets outside the city gates, up the field, and to the edge of the forest. They were also instructed not to take a direct path, so the nearly three-mile journey from the city wall to the first tree of the forest would end being more like a four-mile path.

  His palms were sweaty and his heart pounded hard. He would rather have been with them, but he knew that it was unlikely that they would make it back.

  ***

  The centurion sentry raised a small red flag that only those behind him could see. He did not turn to ensure that his signal was seen as his only duty was to raise the flag once the first expeditionary force left the city. The middle sentry saw the outermost sentry raise his flag, so he turned and raised his own flag, which was immediately seen by the sentry standing next to the command tent.

  The sentry at the command tent turned to the tent’s entrance and called out, “General!”

  General Mace, who had been resting, leapt to his feet, casting aside the blanket that had kept him warm. He stepped through the tent’s open flap and asked, “What is it?”

  “Riders,” the sentry said. “From the city.”

  “Ready the crossbows,” General Mace ordered. He began walking quickly along a freshly cut path to the edge of the forest. The sentry pulled out another flag to signal the crossbowmen. Their orders had already been established. They only needed permission to carry them out, and now they had it.

  General Mace did not stand right at the edge of the forest. He stayed a few yards in so that he did not make a good target for any bowman that might be within range. He doubted that any were, but he had served on too many campaigns in the north to not be careful. The forest looked down upon the city, which allowed him to see far out into the Gulf of Taran. He had been told that on a clear day, one could see the coast of Taran to the northwest, but he had a hard time believing that.

  The ground gently sloped down to the city, which he had studied for many hours. Most of the city was behind the wall that started at the top of the tall cliffs on the north, then circled around and met the edge of the cliffs on the south. The walls were thick and strong, but they would eventually fall. The castle itself would be more difficult to breach. It was going to be a logistical nightmare to get his siege engines close enough to the castle walls to try and bring them down. He would like to simply starve them out, but his orders were clear. There would be no siege, there would only be a direct assault. And if it didn’t start today, then he would be behind schedule. And that was something that would not go well for his career. Or his life.

  He watched with interest as the seven riders approached. For the first half of the distance, they rode in formation, but then they suddenly split in seven different directions. General Mace smiled at the move. It was the right move, which meant he was prepared for it. Clearly their goal was to draw fire and expose the army. Their commander obviously needed to know what type of force they were facing. His smile fell at the first sound of crossbow bolts leaving their weapons. He did not like war. He did not like killing. But it was what he did and what he was good at. Many would die. Some of those would be his own men, and he would feel genuine sorrow for them. But warfare was not a place for emotion.

  He turned to the centurion sentry that had followed him from his command tent. “Wake the emperor. Inform him the battle has begun.”

  ***

  Marik had his answer. Not soon after the seven riders split up, the crossbow bolts came. The orders for his men were to disengage as soon as they were fired upon. But they had no chance. Hundreds of bolts were directed at each rider. Only one of them made any attempt to avoid the incoming bolts, but his fate was no different than the others. Seven men and seven horses fell dead in seconds.

  Marik dropped to a knee, hoping that no one saw him. He needed to be strong for his men and not show any weakness. They needed hope, but Marik suddenly had none left to show. So many crossbow bolts meant hundreds of crossbowmen. And with those hundreds probably came thousands of infantry. Taran had brought her entire army upon them and there was likely nothing they could do to stop them.

  ***

  Tarcious moved with silent grace through the forest and stopped next to General Mace. He could see the crossbowmen through the trees reloading their weapons. Behind them their army hid in the forest, anxious to come out and fight. Blood had been spilled and the centurions could smell it.

  General Mace looked up at the emperor,
who stood stoically, looking out towards the city. He asked, “The siege engines?”

  Tarcious looked down at his general and said, “You are the general. This is your battle. If you are too afraid of me to do your job, then I will get another.”

  “I am not afraid,” General Mace said confidently. He turned to the sentry and said, “Signal the trebuchet and the catapult companies. Have them move them into position.”

  “Yes, General,” the man said. He turned and lifted his flags, waving them through the air.

  Hardly a moment later, the forest came alive as teams of horses began pulling the siege engines into position.

  ***

  It was clear to Marik that the army had been busy in the forest for more than just a single night as five massive machines were pulled out from the forest by teams of horses. Two were of a very odd design that he did not recognize and three were more of a conventional catapult design. The conventional catapults were pulled easily through the snow, their hastily crafted wooden wheels working well enough on the frozen ground. They moved forward towards a position where they would be most likely to reach the walls. But they moved at such a slow pace, it would take quite some time before they were close enough to reach the walls. The other two siege engines stayed back near the tree line. They were pulled into place on skids. With no wheels, there were not made to be mobile, which caused him some confusion. Aiming a catapult was simple. If you were short, you pulled it forward. If you were long, you pulled it back. But without any easy means to move the catapult around, it would be difficult to hit a target.

  The strange catapults had a central A-frame of timbers constructed near the front. A long timber stuck out far to the back behind it with some sort of sack tied to the end. In the front, a large bucket was tied to the end of the timber and men were loading large rocks into it. This he found most odd, as the bucket did not appear to be attached to any mechanism that would allow the rocks to be thrown.