Kingdom's Edge

by Chuck Black

  William and I searched the crowd and nearby shops in search of Leinad, but he was nowhere to be found. My hope faded, but I was determined to search the entire city if necessary.

  The training of the Noble Knights began and I watched, but my mind found no rest from the mystery of Leinad’s disappearance.

  Each knight fought another to determine who was the better swordsman. Minutes into each duel, the better swordsman was obvious. The defeated knight would kneel in submission before his victor. Fifty were eliminated in the first round—then twenty-five. Swords screamed through the air and clashed with great force until one knight remained.

  The Noble Knight Kifus always won. He was truly the best in the entire kingdom, and he proved it time after time. The people cheered as the Noble Knights encircled Kifus and knelt in honor.

  “Thief!” yelled a man behind me, near a line of shops that bordered the square.

  I turned and saw an enraged shop owner gripping the arm of a girl.

  “Thief—she’s stealing my bread!” he yelled again.

  He grabbed her basket and opened it for all to see. A single loaf of bread was inside. She was guilty, and a hundred witnesses knew it.

  The disturbance brought the attention of Kifus and the Noble Knights. They were clearly upset with the interruption of their ritual, but the shop owner dragged the girl into the opening. She tried to cover her face and resist, but it was pointless.

  I had seen her on the streets before. She was a little younger than I, and she was pretty. Her auburn hair was mildly curly and hung below her shoulders. Though the faint, torn remnants of a dress revealed her extreme poverty, it was clear that she tried to keep herself as respectable looking as possible.

  “Please … no!” She pleaded with the man as her slender form twisted in an attempt to escape the humiliation.

  How could she have lowered herself to stealing, even in her poverty? I wondered.

  Kifus and the other Noble Knights moved toward the man and his captive.

  “What is going on here?” Kifus asked with authority.

  Kifus and the Noble Knights were the executors of the law. They judged and sentenced all serious disputes and crimes.

  “I caught this thief stealing bread from my shop! Here is the proof,” he said as he held forth her basket.

  “Is this true?” Kifus asked the young woman.

  “Yes, my lord. But I only—”

  “Maggie! Maggie!” A panicked woman burst through the crowd and ran to the girl. “Please, sir,” the woman exclaimed. “Maggie is my oldest daughter, and she stole the bread only to feed her younger brothers and sisters. Please let her go, Lord Kifus!”

  “The law is very clear,” Kifus said. “Anyone caught stealing will lose their right hand! There are no exceptions … not even for your daughter.”

  “I have no way of providing for the children,” the mother said, tears streaming down her face. “I have already lost one child to poor health and sickness. Maggie is a good girl. I will serve to repay this man. Please show mercy!”

  Kifus looked at the woman and her daughter and then at the crowd.

  “The law must be fulfilled. It is our Code that must be followed,” he declared. “Stretch forth her arm on this tree stump!”

  One knight peeled the girl from her mother’s arms and brought her to the stump. Another knight restrained the mother as she clutched her bosom in anguish.

  “No!” she screamed.

  The knight held the girl while another wrapped a leather strap around her wrist and stretched her arm across the stump.

  The crowd held its breath as the inescapable arm of the law readied to strike. Kifus drew back his sword and then started its powerful arc across the blue sky toward the delicate hand stretched out on the stump. Her fate seemed to be trapped in the steel jaws of the law.

  A man to my right threw back a ragged cloak and I heard the shing of his sword as it left its scabbard. His motion was quick and smooth. The man drew forth a sword that had no equal, not even among the Noble Knights. Its beauty was unmatched and yet familiar. It gleamed so brightly in the sun that it was hard to look upon. Kifus’s sword of judgment screamed through air and collided with this stranger’s immovable sword of mercy—just above the maiden’s wrist. The crowd exhaled in a unified gasp of astonishment.

  Who dared to rescue this poor girl from the judgment of the Noble Knights? Who was this man who was either courageous or a fool? The moment seemed frozen in time. The stranger’s magnificent sword, powered by mighty arms, held its position under the full strength of Kifus’s cut.

  The young lass opened her eyes and slowly turned her head to see the valiant face of her deliverer. Her countenance revealed shock, then gratitude, and finally fear, for the reprieve from judgment could only be temporary, and this brave soul would surely pay with his life.

  “What is that fool doing?” William whispered in my ear.

  No one had ever challenged the authority of any Noble Knight, let alone Kifus.

  With his sword still in its protective position above the girl’s wrist, the stranger slowly turned his head and locked eyes with Kifus. The rage in Kifus’s eyes was evident to all.

  “William,” I whispered, “doesn’t that peasant look familiar?”

  “Yes, yes … It’s the stranger we met on the street a few days ago! Why is he doing this?”

  “I don’t know, but look at that sword. It must be Leinad’s!”

  “Are you sure?”

  I focused on the sword and tried to remember. It had been a long time since I’d laid eyes on Leinad’s sword. If this man was a thief, he was a strange one. He was risking his life to save the life of a girl … and doing it with a stolen sword. I couldn’t make sense of it.

  “I can’t be certain, but I think so,” I whispered back. “In either case, I hope he’s ready to die. It’ll take more than a fancy sword to survive the wrath and skill of Kifus.”

  Kifus pulled back his sword and glared at the stranger, apparently stunned by the rebellious act of this peasant.

  Kifus growled at the stranger, “That was a very stupid move, peasant! I don’t know from whose castle you stole that sword, but I aim to run you through and return it to its rightful place among nobility. Prepare to die!”

  The peasant raised his sword and took a swordsman’s stance that caused even Kifus to hesitate. This man was no peasant. He emanated power!

  Kifus charged. The stranger moved to the side with blinding speed, and his sword flashed like lightning to meet Kifus’s charge. The impact nearly put Kifus on his face. He regained his balance and approached more cautiously now, and then he attacked again. The stranger met every blow and thrust with the perfection of a true master. He teased the Noble Knight Kifus as he maneuvered him at will.

  We watched in amazement as the flashing swords clashed time after time.

  Kifus must have thought he perceived an opening and lunged to finish the stranger, but the stranger parried and executed a bind on Kifus’s sword with unmatched speed and power.

  The fight was over. Kifus stood empty-handed, his sword beneath the foot of the stranger.

  The crowd, along with the other knights, stood silent. I suspected that everyone had the same question on their minds as I had on mine: Who was this man?

  The stranger had disgraced the entire force of the Noble Knights in front of all the people by defeating their best swordsman. I was still confused, but I knew that a man possessing such incredible skill and courage could hardly be a thief.

  In a move of cowardice, two knights behind the stranger drew their swords.

  “Behind you!” I shouted, but my warning was unnecessary. The stranger had already moved to meet their attack. No one standing in the square that afternoon would have believed that a single man could possess such craft as this swordsman were they not there to see it with their own eyes. Within minutes, one knight was without his sword, and the other was prone on the ground before the stranger, the tip of the magnific
ent sword at his throat.

  “Release the girl,” the stranger said.

  The prone knight looked at Kifus and pleaded with his eyes.

  Kifus nodded at the two knights who were restraining the young woman, and they released her. She was too stunned to move. I went to her and helped her gain her feet. She wiped away tears of deliverance as I guided her to her mother, who was still held in the grip of a Noble Knight. He finally released her, and Maggie collapsed into her mother’s arms.

  Kifus spoke. “You are not what you appear to be, sir. Tell us who you are and where you come from.”

  The stranger relaxed his sword. “I am the Son of the King of this kingdom, and I come from His palace in distant lands across the sea.”

  A low rumble flowed through the crowd. William came and stood by me.

  “Could this be true, William?” I said. “Do you think He really is the King’s Son?”

  “I don’t know,” William said. “I want to believe it. Like I told you, there is definitely something about that man!”

  “If You are the King’s Son, give us a sign,” Kifus called out. “Show us Your royal ring and robe. Where are Your servants, Your coaches, and the treasures worthy of a prince?”

  “I can give no sign, save My skill as a swordsman and My duty to My Father,” the stranger said.

  “Nobility is more than wielding a sword, stranger. It is in the blood. This we know by the Code our King gave us,” Kifus said. “We live by the Code!”

  “You speak of the Code, yet you do not live by the Code nor teach the people so that they may live by the Code. You dishonor the King by your actions. The Code of the King is not born in your blood but grown in your hearts. You feed the people morsels of food and keep them in subjection to your whims for the sake of power and control. That is not nobility—it is treachery!”

  Never before had anyone dared speak such truth out loud. All that He said made perfect sense. The people were clearly moved as He spoke, and the Noble Knights appeared to grow more furious with every word.

  “While you serve yourselves, the Dark Knight prepares this very day for battle against our kingdom,” the stranger continued. He turned toward the crowd. “People of Arrethtrae, My Father has not forgotten you. I come to raise up an army of truth, justice, and honor. An army willing to fight and die for the good of the kingdom. An army willing to serve the people. An army that must someday fight the Dark Knight and his Shadow Warriors. I come in the name of the King! I come to serve Him and you. Follow Me and learn the true ways of the Code.”

  “You are a traitor to the King!” Kifus shouted. “I will not allow You to destroy His kingdom or His Code!”

  The King’s Son turned toward Kifus. He raised His magnificent sword at him and the Noble Knights. “You have defiled the Code and are not worthy to be called the King’s Noble Knights. Be sure of this, I will accomplish My Father’s will!”

  His voice was overpowering. Kifus seemed to shrink from the rebuke.

  The King’s Son spoke to the people. “I have chosen men among you worthy to serve the King. I do not offer a life of ease and comfort, but of sweat and blood. It will not be easy, but it will be noble!”

  He moved toward the crowd and closer to us. Soon He was standing before William and me. I looked once more into those penetrating eyes. Was this really happening, or was I in some strange dream? Could this really be the King’s Son? I knew in my heart that what He said was true; I saw it in His eyes. This was a man who would not lie. My gaze left His eyes and came to rest on the magnificent sword. It fit His hand as though it were part of Him. He followed my eyes.

  “Cedric,” I heard him say, “Leinad has done well in keeping My sword for this appointed day. Do not worry. Your friend is safe.”

  I believed Him and found relief in His words. But why He would entrust such a treasure as this sword to a crazy old man was still a mystery. The golden handle was inlaid with precious stones. Its double-edged blade shined like polished silver and was as sharp as a razor’s edge. What a splendid sword it was.

  I looked into His face again as He continued to speak. “Will you discover hope and follow Me to become a Knight of the Prince, Cedric?”

  Me? Surely He was mistaken. “My Lord,” I said, “I am but a poor peasant. I am not worthy. Surely You look for someone better than I?”

  “No, Cedric, I have chosen you. I do not care about what you were or what you are, but about what you can become.”

  In my heart I knew I must answer one question: Do I really believe this man is the Son of the King? In an instant I knew the answer, and there was but one thing for me to do.

  I knelt before the Prince. “I will follow You, my Lord.”

  “And you, William. Will you follow Me and discover your dreams?” He asked my friend.

  “My life is Yours, my Prince,” William said as he knelt beside me.

  “Rise up, My friends, and come with Me.” His firm hand was upon our shoulders.

  We rose and followed Him through the crowd. The Prince stopped before certain men and bid them to follow Him. Most joined us, but some did not. The men He chose were anything but warriors. But who was I to talk? I knew nothing of the skill of sword fighting or knighthood. I had held a sword only once in my life, and it was the very sword that the Prince now carried. Leinad had let me hold it once when I was boy. His tale of the Sword of the King had captivated me, and holding it had made the story seem real. I believed him then, but had lost that childhood faith in my mature years. Now it all seemed to be happening just as Leinad had said. Maybe he wasn’t as crazy as I had thought.

  As we emerged from the crowd, twenty-five men, scruffy men, followed the Prince. The Noble Knights roared in laughter.

  “So this is Your grand army to defeat the Dark Knight, aye, stranger?” Kifus sneered. “I’m sure Your King would be proud of such an awesome selection of knights to defend His kingdom.”

  The Prince showed no embarrassment at us as one might expect, but instead turned toward the knights one last time and spoke with authority. “On the appointed day, you will be judged for your treason, and I shall be that judge. My Father has given Me all authority over this kingdom. Be warned!”

  That was the beginning of my life as an unlikely knight. It was a day that changed my life forever.

  A DEADLY PLOT

  Life was hard. Life was good. Most folks think this a contradiction, but I have learned that the hardest, most difficult times of my life caused the most growth in my character. At the very least, those hard times prepared me for a better future.

  The Prince …

  Were the Noble Knights to spend one honest day with Him, they would have realized how truly noble He is and that He is indeed the King’s Son. He is better with the sword than any man, past or present, who has laid his hand upon a hilt. And yet He is not arrogant. His authority as a military commander is unquestioned, and yet He is not harsh. He does not hesitate to destroy evil at its root, and yet He is more compassionate than any man I’ve seen. He is the King’s Son, and yet I have seen Him carry a poor old woman to her home when she was too weak to walk by herself. This is what the Noble Knights hate most about Him—He is kind. He is the epitome of what they are not.

  We learned the art of the sword from the Master Himself, a little each day. He was patient. We studied and worked and sweat. We all wanted to become like the Prince. There is a quality about Him that draws the good in heart. As we became more proficient, the Prince recruited more men to His army. They too were inept swordsmen at first, but the Master made warriors of them all. We were the Knights of the Prince.

  The Noble Knights must have realized that this stranger was not going away. I was told that when they saw His influence over the people, their ridicule became concern. Soon their concern became a plot.

  “William, how was your training today?” I asked as we walked up the narrow streets of Chessington toward the bread stand.

  “Well, I’ve been working on some techniques the P
rince showed me, but no matter how many times I practice, my skills pale in comparison to His.”

  “I understand. My best work seems a weak imitation of the Prince’s.”

  We now wore the emblem of the Prince on our tunics. The swords and scabbards He gave us also bore His mark. We turned the corner and walked up a dimly lit street. The clink of our swords kept rhythm with our walk.

  “Good sirs!” came a whisper from the dark.

  Dark shadows usually hide dark deeds. We instinctively reached for our swords.

  “Who goes there?” I said.

  “I am but a servant boy. Please do not harm me,” the small voice replied.

  We could not see the boy, but fear was clearly in his voice.

  “What do you want, lad?” William said.

  “I serve in Lord Kifus’s house, but I have seen how your leader cares for the people. I come to warn your leader. I overheard some of the knights talking of a plot to kill Him. Please warn Him. I must go.”

  We strained to see but only heard the quickened pace of bare feet on cobblestone diminishing to our left side.

  “Do you think there is any merit to this warning?” William said. “Are the Noble Knights really that worried about the Prince that they would plot to kill Him?”

  “That boy was scared. I believe the threat to be real, but plot or no plot, we must tell the Prince immediately.”

  We found the Prince resting beneath a sprawling tree on a knoll east of the city. This was a place of solitude He’d come to love.