Sir Rowan and the Camerian Conquest

by Chuck Black

  “I will be able to pay you for your trouble once I get back to Laos,” Rowan said.

  Mariah reached for the empty tray across Rowan’s lap. “Palson said we shouldn’t accept payment for kindness, especially from those who are in need.” She stood and started toward the door. “You are welcome to stay as long as you like, provided you behave yourself.”

  It took Rowan a week before he felt he had regained enough strength to move about and relocate to the outbuilding. He still fatigued easily, but he could feel his strength steadily returning. Mariah’s care was unfaltering, and Rowan became more and more grateful to her every day. Hearing her sing in the morning was perhaps his favorite experience of each day, for it was a reminder that he was indeed free from the torture of evil men.

  The more he was with Mariah, in fact, the more he liked her. At first he attributed the attraction to the fact that she had saved his life and was caring for him, but then he began to suspect it was something more. None of the other maidens of Laos had ever affected him this way. Mariah was a true Follower of the Prince, and he admired how she lived her simple life with integrity and devotion. He also admired her beauty, and each day he found himself drawn to her more strongly.

  She, on the other hand, seemed to be distancing herself from him as he grew stronger, and he couldn’t understand why. She gave no indication that he was anything more than a guest in need. He told himself this was probably for the best, since his life in Laos was waiting for him.

  When ten days had passed, Rowan decided to return home. He voiced his intentions the next morning at breakfast.

  “You’re still in no condition to travel,” Mariah protested mildly. “I could barely get you from the cave to my farm, and that’s a short distance compared to the journey to Laos. It’s a full day’s ride even for a healthy man.”

  He had learned earlier from Mariah that her farm was southwest of Laos, on the edge of the Altica Valley.

  “I appreciate your concern, Mariah, but I have to go home and recover my estate.”

  He expected her to protest further, but she did not. She gazed at him thoughtfully and then nodded. “I understand and agree. But I can’t afford to give you a horse, and you’ll never make it on your own. I’ll make arrangements with my neighbors to the north to care for the farm, then travel with you to Laos.”

  “I would be most grateful … again,” he said with a smile, and she smiled back. He caught himself staring into her delightful blue eyes, then decided to focus on his breakfast.

  “Rowan?” Her voice had become soft and serious.

  “I went to a tournament once, years ago. It seemed rather… Well, I guess what I’m trying to ask is, what kind of a man were you before you were captured?”

  Rowan looked up from his food, wishing she hadn’t asked him such a penetrating question. There was still so much to sort out. He frowned.

  “You don’t have to answer that,” Mariah said. “I’m sorry … It’s none of my business, and you’ve been through much.”

  She lifted her plate and stood up from the table, but Rowan reached out and grabbed her arm. “I want to answer it,” he said.

  She slowly sat back down. He pulled back his arm and took a deep breath.

  “I was a man who loved the applause of the crowds, the wealth and trophies of my winnings, and the attention of the maidens. At first, when I became a Knight of the Prince, my heart was right, but as I realized that my gift with the sword and the strength of my body was something unique, I began to … ‘lose my way,’ as a friend once said.”

  Rowan hesitated as he thought of Sir Aldwyn. He wondered what his mentor would think of him now.

  “I convinced myself that because I had been a street urchin, I deserved the fame and wealth of a tournament champion. And I told myself I could pursue it without compromising as a Knight of the Prince.” He shook his head and shot a crooked a smile at her. “Perhaps there are men out there who can do it, but I could not. I didn’t realize how lost I was until long after I had been chained in that cave.”

  Rowan shrugged sheepishly.

  She didn’t smile. “Are you still that man?” she asked.

  Rowan met her eyes; then his gaze fell to the table. It was a fair question, one he hadn’t dared ask himself. His dream of his time with the Prince still echoed in his mind, but how much could a dream change a man?

  “I don’t know,” he finally answered her. “That cave … those chains … my dreams … I don’t want to be that former man, but I guess I have nothing to prove I’m any different. Not yet anyway.”

  She said nothing, merely nodded and picked up her plate again. Numbly he watched her go. It was the first time in many years that he had felt so … lacking. He had nothing to offer her that she would care to receive. A woman of her caliber would have no interest in wealth. She would rather have a pauper with a pure and humble heart—one fully committed to the Prince.

  If the cost of such a heart were all of my fame and wealth, he wondered, would I make the trade?

  The next day, Rowan and Mariah packed two of her horses and set off for Laos. Mariah was still concerned about his ability to travel, and the journey did prove much more difficult for Rowan than he expected, but he pushed himself so they could make Laos by sundown. They arrived on the ridge of a hill overlooking the city just as daylight faded and lights began to appear in houses.

  An entire mix of emotions flooded through Rowan as he prepared to return home, but anticipation dominated them all and renewed his strength a bit. He wondered if Balenteen had made it back to town and, if so, how well he had preserved his estate. What of the tournaments? What would be expected of him? Could or would he return to tournament life? Did he even want to?

  Laos was a sprawling city with ten thousand lanterns already burning in defiance of the fading light of the day. Rowan felt like he might collapse at any moment, but the sight of the city spurred him on. Mariah look concerned but said nothing.

  “Eastgate is my estate,” he told her. “It’s on the eastern edge of the city, facing the mountains.”

  They skirted the city along the southeast. As they neared Rowan’s property, they passed many homes, and Mariah gawked in wonder at the obvious wealth of the area.

  “We’re nearly there,” Rowan assured her. “We can—”

  “Halt!” A mounted guard in an unfamiliar uniform was blocking their way. Rowan had seen others like him on their trek around the city, but he hadn’t thought much of it until now.

  The man approached them with an air of authority. “State the nature of your business.”

  Rowan glanced over at Mariah, who shrugged. “Why?” he asked.

  The guard’s countenance grew stern. “State the nature of your business now!”

  Rowan hesitated, perturbed at the guard’s absurd request. “I am Sir Rowan,” he finally said, “and I am traveling to my estate.”

  The guard looked skeptical. “Give me your citizen papers.”

  Rowan just looked at the man. “I haven’t the foggiest idea what you are talking about,” he replied.

  At that the guard drew his sword and held it at ready. “Prefect Corsan has ordered all people of Laos to register as citizens,” he said. “Without your papers you are not allowed to travel anywhere. You are in violation of that edict—and numerous others, I’m sure. You will come with me.”

  Rowan took a deep breath, his frustration vying with his fatigue. Something had obviously changed in his absence.

  “I have been away for a very long time,” he said. “I am tired and just want to go home. My estate, Eastgate, is just over there.” Rowan pointed toward a large, opulent manor behind a gilded gate. “You can follow us if you’d like, and I’ll prove it to you.”

  The guard hesitated, looked toward the estate, and sheathed his sword. “You’d better be telling the truth, or you’ll be spending time in the prison.”

  Rowan suppressed a laugh. He spurred his horse past the guard and traveled on toward his gate. When
Rowan dismounted, he had to clutch at the saddle to keep from falling to the ground. Mariah jumped off her horse to help him.

  The guard followed them up to the door of the manor, and Rowan tried to open it, but it was locked. He knocked, and soon the door opened slightly. A servant’s face appeared.

  “I am Sir Rowan. This is my estate. Open the door and let me through.”

  “Wait here.” The servant closed the door and disappeared. Rowan leaned against the brick portico.

  “Are you all right, Rowan?” Mariah asked.

  Rowan took a breath. He needed to lie down soon.

  A moment later the door opened again. “What is the meaning of this?” a voice demanded.

  There stood Balenteen in regal clothing. “Who are you people?” he demanded.

  “Balenteen, it is I, Sir Rowan. Thank goodness you survived.” Rowan stepped forward and tried to enter, but Balenteen stood in the way.

  “Sentinel, remove these people from my property. I don’t know who they are.” Balenteen slammed the door before Rowan could respond.

  He began pounding on the door, but the sentinel grabbed him and began to pull him away.

  “Balenteen, you traitor!” Rowan shouted. “You thief! This is my estate!”

  After a brief struggle, Rowan stumbled and fell to one knee. His face turned downward to the ground as he tried to hold himself up.

  “You will come with me to the consulate,” the sentinel said firmly.

  Mariah put an arm about Rowan to keep him from completely collapsing. She looked up at the sentinel with pleading eyes. “Please, sir, you can see that he is very sick. Let me take care of him.”

  “Without papers or verification I have no choice. You may be an enemy of the city.” The sentinel seemed unsure what to do. Rowan was clearly in no condition to travel.

  The sentinel looked up and down the roadway, then mounted his horse. “Wait here until I return. Do not leave, or your fate will be much worse when I find you.”

  The sentinel galloped off to the west. Rowan leaned against Mariah, his only friend in all the kingdom.

  THE WORK OF ONE

  We must leave, Rowan,” Mariah pleaded. “The sentinel will be back any moment. I’ll help you mount Sierra.”

  “I can’t,” Rowan murmured, slumping closer toward the ground. He seemed to have hit an emotional and physical brick wall.

  Mariah leaned him against a lamppost and paced nearby, searching the roadway for sentinels. Rowan felt like his body was made of lead. All he wanted to do was lie down and close his eyes. Even breathing felt like an ordeal.

  How could Balenteen have betrayed me? he fumed through the haze of his exhaustion. No wonder the ransom had never been paid. Balenteen must have been hoping the marauders would kill him. And Balenteen was fortunate, because if Rowan had any strength left in his body, the evening would have turned violent.

  Rowan looked over at Mariah and felt sorry for her. She had not chosen this situation; Rowan had pulled her into it.

  She came and knelt down beside him. “You spoke of a Sir Aldwyn once. We can go to his house.” But Rowan had begun to fade.

  “Rowan! You have to get up.” Her voice was tight with worry. “The sentinels are coming!”

  The idea of standing, let alone mounting a horse, seemed impossible. Rowan shook his head. “I can’t. Take your horses and leave me, Mariah.” He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry to have brought this on you. You go. Once they discover who I am, everything will be all right.”

  Mariah grabbed the collar of his tunic and came to within inches of his face. He opened his eyes to see a fiery resolve he had never expected.

  “I don’t think they’re planning on letting you go, and I didn’t risk my life in the moth cave to see you taken prisoner again.” Mariah pulled on his tunic until he was on his knees. “What sort of a champion are you? Now get up!”

  She wrapped his left arm around her shoulder and forced him to stand with her. Out of sheer determination, she pulled, pushed, taunted, and encouraged him until he was precariously perched upon his horse once more.

  “Tell me where Sir Aldwyn lives,” she said as she led their horses down the street in the opposite direction from the one the sentinel had traveled. She rode close to Rowan’s side, trying to keep him upright.

  “Go north”—Rowan could hardly form the words—“across the eastern bridge …”

  Mariah led them as quickly as possible to the north, skirting much of the city. Twice she was forced to divert to avoid more sentinels. Finally, after what seemed like an agonizingly long ride, they arrived at Sir Aldwyn’s modest home.

  Mariah leaned Rowan against the doorpost, then quickly tied the two horses at the back of the home so as not to draw any undue attention. No matter what they found here, this would be the end of their travels tonight, for Rowan was spent.

  Mariah returned and knocked on the door. At first it seemed that no one was home, but after a second attempt, the door opened a crack.

  “What do you want?” a quavering voice asked from the shadow of the doorway.

  “We’re looking for Sir Aldwyn,” Mariah said.

  “No one here by that name.” The old woman began to close the door.

  Did the entire kingdom change while I was away? Rowan wondered.

  “I am Sir Rowan, a former squire of Sir Aldwyn.” His words were weak and slurred, but they stopped the door from completely closing. After a moment of motionless silence, the old woman spoke softly.

  “The work of One saves many,” she said tentatively.

  It was an odd statement, and Rowan’s head swam in confusion and frustration. Was this some sort of pass code?

  “We are the many,” Mariah quietly replied.

  The door opened. “Come in quickly,” the old woman said. Her countenance was serious but not unkind. The creases around her eyes and lips told of tense and anxious days.

  Mariah helped Rowan stumble through the door.

  “I’m Zetta,” the old woman said, quickly closing the door behind them.

  “Thank you, Madam Zetta,” Mariah said. “He needs to lie down.”

  “This way.” The woman picked up a lantern and led them down a hallway into a bedchamber. Rowan fell upon the bed and didn’t move.

  “There’s another chamber just down the hall for you, young lady,” he heard the elderly woman say.

  “Thank you, madam,” Mariah replied. “I’m going to make sure he’s all right before I …”

  The words faded away as Rowan drifted to something much deeper than mere sleep.

  When Rowan awoke, his body felt pinned to the bed, and he had to look to see if his shackles had reappeared on his ankles and wrists. With each passing moment, however, he started to feel better. He brought himself to a sitting position just as someone knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” he called.

  “Well, that’s an improvement,” Mariah said as she entered the room. “Are you able to eat something? Zetta has made a delicious breakfast.”

  Rowan managed a smile. “That would be wonderful.”

  “Shall I bring it to you, or can you make it to the table?”

  “I think I can get to the table … with a little help,” he said.

  She helped him to his feet, but before they took their first step together, Rowan hesitated. “Mariah, I’ve never needed help from anyone, and I’ve never had anyone take care of me before.”

  Mariah looked up at him as if she were waiting for the punch line, but Rowan just gazed gently into her eyes. “Thank you,” he said and felt her arm soften around his waist as they began their careful walk down the hallway and into the kitchen.

  At the breakfast table, Rowan felt some of his strength returning. “Madam Zetta, thank you for allowing us into your home.”

  “You are welcome, but it is not my home,” Zetta replied. “It is Sir Aldwyn’s.”

  “I thought you said—”

  “I said he is not here … but the home is still his. He�
��s asked me to stay behind and help people like you … Resolutes.”

  “So, it’s true after all.” Mariah stared at Zetta.

  Rowan looked at Mariah, perplexed. “What’s true?”

  “My father heard rumors that Kroywen had a new prefect who had dissolved many of the people’s freedoms,” she said. “I had no idea Laos had fallen to the same fate,” Mariah said.

  “Yes,” Zetta replied. “Only just recently, though. Sir Aldwyn saw it coming and began preparing. Resolutes began to gather. We must be very careful.”

  Rowan stared at Mariah, amazed by something even deeper in her character than he expected. “You knew the pass code,” he said.

  Mariah nodded. “From my father. My mother died years ago. Six months ago, when my father and my brother heard what was happening at Kroywen, they went to join the Resolutes—to try to stop the takeover of Cameria.” Mariah stared down at the table. “My father loves this land and the freedom it stands for. He served in the Camerian army before he was a farmer. Nothing could keep him from joining the Resolutes.”

  “He left you alone?” Rowan asked bewildered.

  “No. Palson and I were to farm the land until my father and brother returned, but …” Mariah hesitated. “Just two months after my father and brother left, Palson was bitten by a mountain asp. I … I couldn’t save him.”

  Zetta reached over and took Mariah’s hands in hers. “I’m so sorry, child.”

  Mariah accepted the consolation gratefully. “I have to keep the farm going until they return.” Mariah looked over at Rowan. “When you wanted to go to Laos to recover your estate, I thought it would be an opportunity to see for myself what was really happening.” Mariah shook her head. “It’s much worse than I suspected.”

  Rowan took a deep breath and sat back in his chair, trying to put everything together in his head. “Who is doing this to Cameria?” he asked.

  “As near as we can tell, much of the influence is coming from Lord Malizimar’s region near Daydelon,” Zetta said.