Sir Rowan and the Camerian Conquest

by Chuck Black

  At that, the assembly bemoaned their plight with audible disapproval. Sir Whitley held up his hands to regain control of the meeting.

  “Though these days are dark, we know that our King and the Prince will be victorious over the evil that is casting its shadow across the kingdom. Cameria can still be a beacon of light that stands against the Dark Knight and his Shadow Warriors!”

  This brought a cheer from the assembly, and Rowan felt the passion of the Resolutes reverberate off the walls.

  “We have a plan to retake Cameria and restore freedom to the land.” Sir Whitley let his words settle into the hearts and minds of his listeners. “Lord Gavaah is powerful, but if we join together and take just one of the five great cities of Cameria, we’ll have a base of operations to take the fight to the rest of the region, and we’ll show the people of Cameria that we are resolved to fight for freedom. I believe hundreds of thousands will join us if we show them that we are strong and we are united!” Sir Whitley held up a clenched fist to emphasize his point, and the gesture brought thunderous applause.

  “Which city?” someone asked.

  “Let’s take the capital city of Kroywen,” another voice called out. “That’s where Gavaah is.”

  Whitley held up his hands again to restore order.

  “We considered Kroywen, but that is also where Gavaah’s power is concentrated. He commands both the city’s sentinels and the armies of the region. No—we shall take Laos, and here is why: Eagle’s Nest is the largest Resolute encampment in Cameria, and we are closest to Laos. Additionally, by taking Laos, we will divide Gavaah’s forces, isolating Berwick’s smaller forces to the south. Retaking Berwick will be much easier without reinforcements from Gavaah. Finally, Laos is nearest the mountains.”

  “Why is that important?” someone from the back asked.

  “Because of this,” Whitley said. He reached behind a table and lifted up another model of the glider that Rowan had seen earlier.

  “Most of you saw the maiden flight of our Eagle Glider today. Perhaps you wondered why we would spend so much time and energy on such a seemingly fanciful toy. This, my friends”—Whitley held the glider high for all to see—“is how we will conquer Gavaah’s forces at Laos and retake the city.”

  Whitley walked from one side of the assembly to the other. “We only have one chance, fellow knights. Gavaah knows there are Resolutes in the mountains, and he is massing his defenses along the eastern borders of the cities, especially Kroywen. It would be difficult for us to launch a head-on attack against any of these forces and survive. So what we will do is give them what they expect—and also what they don’t. We will silently fly thousands of our knights over the top of Gavaah’s army, straight into the city, and take control before they have a chance to turn around and fight us. Then, when Gavaah’s army turns to fight our knights in the city, we will strike with our regular ground forces from the mountains.”

  The plan seemed risky and brilliant all at the same time. Many questions and much discussion followed, but in general everyone agreed, and the representatives from the other encampments seemed excited to carry the news back to their people. A date nearly three months hence was set as Freedom Day. There was much work to be done—materials to be gathered, gliders to be built, and both riders and ground fighters to be trained. Everyone in the room seemed eager to be involved.

  Almost everyone …

  The assembly was dismissed, and the knights began to exit. Rowan had nearly forgotten about Sir Lijah, but when he turned around, he couldn’t ignore that hard stare.

  “Sir Aldwyn”—Rowan motioned toward the massive knight—“do you know that man?”

  “Not really. He’s a loner,” Aldwyn said. “At first we wondered if perhaps he was a spy for Gavaah, but …”

  “He saved us from the sentinels in Laos last summer,” Rowan said. “I don’t think he would have killed those sentinels if he were a spy.”

  “Yes, Zetta told me,” Aldwyn replied. “She said he was looking for me, but he’s never asked me for anything.” Aldwyn shook his head. “He won’t train or be trained. He won’t lead or be led. He asks for nothing except to be allowed to remain with us. In exchange, he hunts for the encampment, and he is very good at it.”

  “You mean he won’t join in the battle for Laos?” Mariah asked.

  “He’s made it clear that he will not be part of any assault on Gavaah or his forces,” Aldwyn said.

  “Then he must be a spy,” Mariah said, quite perturbed. “How can he be a Knight of the Prince and not join this cause?”

  “He handled eight sentinels at once,” Rowan said to Aldwyn. “His sword would bring much to the fight.”

  “Perhaps you can talk to him,” Aldwyn said.

  “I shall,” Rowan replied.

  When they neared the exit, Rowan deliberately walked toward Sir Lijah.

  “I will speak with you,” the massive knight said, glaring at Rowan and ignoring everyone else. “Alone,” Sir Lijah added when Mariah stepped up beside Rowan.

  Rowan looked at Mariah and his friends. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

  Mariah hesitated, then exited the cave with the others.

  Rowan crossed his arms and glared back at Sir Lijah. He couldn’t help but wonder how he would fare in a duel with the man. The two huge knights silently faced off with such intensity that those around them seemed to feel it. Stragglers quickly sidestepped and left, glancing nervously at the two powerful knights in their stare down.

  “Who are you really,” Rowan finally asked, “and why are you here?”

  Sir Lijah slowly moved his hand to his sword. Rowan felt the tempo of his heart increase. Perhaps this man was more than a spy. Perhaps he was an assassin.

  “I’m here for you,” Lijah said, slowly drawing his sword.

  Rowan stepped back and drew his sword as well.

  “What’s going on, gentlemen?” Rowan heard Sir Whitley call from behind him. Six or so other men and women voiced exclamations as Rowan faced off with Lijah. Mariah, Julian, and Aldwyn reappeared at the cave entrance.

  “Stop!” Mariah shouted, but Rowan didn’t dare drop his guard. Everything about this man was more threatening than any he’d ever faced.

  “Do something, Julian!” Mariah exclaimed.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Julian said. He drew his sword, as did Aldwyn, but neither dared step in the way.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” Lijah muttered through clenched teeth.

  Rowan hesitated. What does that mean? he wondered.

  Lijah engaged with an explosive set of cuts and slices that put Rowan immediately in retreat. Only then did Rowan realize that he’d been tricked by the comment. He countered defensively, trying to adapt quickly to the man’s fighting style. Just when he thought he had Lijah figured out, however, a completely new advance would evolve, and Rowan found himself constantly adjusting and retreating.

  Their fight moved from one side of the large cave to another, toppling chairs and sending people scurrying out of the way. A few armed men entered the cave, but no one seemed to know what to do. Rowan and Lijah were locked in a duel of such power and intensity there was little anyone could do but watch in amazement.

  Other than the mysterious knight long ago that Rowan had come to believe was the Prince, Rowan had never faced such a fighter before. Just when he thought he might lose the fight, he glanced at Mariah and saw the fear in her face. This angered him and renewed his strength. His sword flew faster and stronger until he was able to turn his retreat into an advance against Lijah.

  By this time more men had filtered into the cave. Twenty men now stood with swords at ready, but still none dared attempt to stop the fight. Something beyond normal was happening, and many watched with eyes wide and mouths open.

  At one point Rowan was late in deflecting a cut, and Lijah’s blade sliced his right shoulder. Mariah screamed, but Rowan didn’t even feel the wound. He countered so quickly and with such power that his sword bl
asted back into Lijah’s and sliced the knight’s left arm. At that, Lijah stopped and held his sword vertically in front of himself.

  Rowan recoiled to strike but froze at the last instant. If he executed this cut, Lijah could never recover. It would be the end of him. Both men were sweating profusely and breathing hard. Lijah closed his eyes. The tension in the room hung like a thick cloud. Everyone held their breath, waiting to see how this strange duel would end.

  “You don’t belong here,” Lijah repeated, then opened his eyes and lowered his sword.

  “What does that mean?” Rowan panted, still not ready to lower his sword.

  Lijah fully relaxed his position and let his sword come to rest on the granite floor. The twenty armed men, including Julian and Aldwyn, quickly came and encircled the two knights.

  “I have fought a thousand men looking for you. Your mission is with me, and it is not here.”

  Rowan slowly lowered his sword, and everyone seemed extremely relieved. Heads turned as Sir Whitley approached the men. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  Sir Lijah turned to face Sir Whitley. “A friendly contest, sir. My apologies.” He gazed blankly at the commander of the Resolutes, and Whitley eyed him in return.

  “Take it elsewhere,” Whitley said tersely, then turned and left, as did most of the other men. Only Mariah, Aldwyn, and Julian stayed close by.

  “Who are you?” Mariah asked Lijah fiercely.

  Lijah turned and looked at her directly for the first time. “Rowan and I have a mission together, and I’ve come for him.”

  Rowan stared at Lijah, not sure what to think or say but, remarkably, not shocked by the comment. Mariah looked at Rowan for some confirmation or denial, but Rowan could offer neither.

  “What mission?” Rowan asked.

  “What I have to say is for you and you alone,” Lijah said bluntly.

  Rowan looked at Aldwyn and Julian, and they backed away but did not leave the cave. Mariah did not move.

  “She is my wife,” Rowan said to Lijah. “Whatever you tell me, you tell her.”

  Lijah paused. “Very well.”

  He stared at Rowan with unreadable eyes. “I was born in Chessington to a common young couple twenty-two years ago. My mother died during the delivery, and the midwife didn’t understand why until she realized another child was still in the womb. The midwife was able to save the second child. But my father was greatly distraught by the loss of his wife and succumbed to the plague shortly afterward.

  “It was decided that the two infants would be given to separate families, since two newborns would be too much of a burden on any one family. I was raised in the home of a Noble Knight and trained as such, but my new mother secretly believed in the Prince and raised me to believe in Him too. From the time I was a small boy, my mother said that I was destined to proclaim the truth of the Prince in a special way. Later, when I was older, she told me how she knew it was true.”

  Lijah stopped and glanced from Rowan to Mariah and back again. “One evening she came to my cradle and found a large man holding me. Before she could call for help, the man walked over to her and placed me in her arms. She said that I was clutching a scroll … this scroll.” Lijah reached into his tunic and withdrew a tattered, worn-out parchment. “The man placed a leather strap around my mother’s neck—a strap with a key on it. Then he disappeared without saying a single word.”

  Lijah held the scroll, staring blankly at it. His gaze lifted and pierced Rowan.

  “My mother was a noble woman, not given to fanciful imagination. What she said happened is true.”

  Rowan opened his mouth and then closed it, not knowing what to say. As incredible as the story seemed, he still saw little connection to himself and his life. And yet, strangely, he felt it resonate deep within him. Was it just the strangeness of the story that called to him so?

  “What happened to the other child?” Mariah asked.

  “The family who adopted that child moved to another region of the kingdom.” Lijah stared at Rowan. “To Cameria.”

  Rowan swallowed hard. Mariah grabbed his arm.

  “What are you saying … that I’m your brother?” Rowan asked.

  Lijah just kept staring at him.

  “Prove it,” Rowan finally blurted out.

  “I cannot,” Lijah replied. “But I need not. You know it to be so.”

  Rowan couldn’t deny that there was something about Lijah that was undeniably and strangely familiar.

  “You are not Camerian, Rowan. Your veins flow with the blood of the King’s people. We were born in Chessington, descendants of the people of Nan. Though our parents were poor and common, our heritage belongs to the King, His Son, and His people in Chessington … our people.”

  Rowan turned and walked away a few paces. He had wondered countless times about his origins. Never had he imagined it might be someplace other than Cameria. Could Lijah’s story be true?

  “Your given name is Mosiah. It means ‘to draw out.’ ” Lijah’s voice was low, but loud enough for Rowan to hear. “It is time for you to be drawn out of Cameria.”

  Rowan turned around and slowly came back. “Why have you come for me now?”

  Lijah held out the scroll, but Rowan couldn’t make himself take it. If this was all true, what would it mean for him, for Mariah, for the Resolutes?

  Mariah reached out and took the scroll from Lijah. She opened it and began to read out loud.

  Farewell peace on the river, farewell peace one and all,

  Fear not dark in the evening; hear the Prince and His call.

  Two babes born in sorrow—a husband weeps for his wife—

  One child raised by his people, one child raised in strife,

  One marked child with a key, one marked child will roam,

  One marked child with an image, one marked child comes home.

  The Code, the Key, and the Image, a chamber revealed for two.

  A mission beckons My people. Words of the Prince be true.

  Two men chosen in armor, abandoning life for the call.

  Two men face the Dark One: to Chessington herald …

  Mariah looked up from the scroll. “The last two words are unreadable.”

  Lijah nodded. “My mother said the scroll was torn. She never told me what the last words were.”

  “ ‘To Chessington herald …’ for all?” Mariah asked, trying to piece together the last few words of the cryptic scroll.

  “It’s possible,” Lijah said.

  Lijah pulled a leather cord from around his neck and held a tarnished key in his hand.

  Mariah studied the parchment again. “If you were the child with the key, and you really are brothers, that would mean Rowan was the child with the image. What image?”

  Lijah shrugged. “Were you given an image of something as a child?”

  Rowan shook his head.

  “A pendant, medallion, birthmark … anything?” Lijah pressed.

  “No … nothing.” Rowan felt himself becoming agitated. The words on the scroll could mean anything. He shook his head and turned away again.

  “You must come with me, Mosiah,” Lijah said, “to Chessington.”

  Rowan’s nostrils flared. He turned back and pointed at Lijah. “No! My name is Rowan. Can’t you see what’s happening here? We are preparing for battle against Gavaah and his army. How do you know our mission isn’t right here, right now?”

  “Don’t you understand?” Lijah returned fiercely. “This isn’t about Laos. This isn’t even about Cameria. This is about Chessington. The days are short. The Dark Knight is rising in power, and the coming of the Prince is near. Our calling is higher than this. We have a mission that awaits us elsewhere in Arrethtrae.”

  Rowan froze, captured by the familiar words. And yet Lijah’s story, the scroll, the key—it all seemed so strange. Frustration rose up in him as he struggled to take it all in.

  Lijah stepped toward Rowan. “I don’t know why we were chosen or even what we were chosen fo
r. I just know it has to do with Chessington—and soon!”

  Rowan studied Lijah through narrowed eyes. “If this is all true, how did you know to find me here? You were here even before I was. How is that possible?”

  The fierceness of Lijah’s countenance diminished, and he seemed hesitant to answer. He looked to the ground as if he didn’t want to.

  “I began looking for you more than four years ago—first in Chessington, then in the Outdweller regions. A year and half ago is when I finally learned that you had been taken to Cameria, but still that was not enough. Ten months ago, just before I first saw you at Laos, I had a very vivid dream … At least, I think it was a dream. In the dream, the Prince told me that if I found the man named Aldwyn, I would find my brother.”

  Lijah looked up at Rowan. “And so I have, for there is not another in all the kingdom who fights like we do. We were born to use the sword, Mosiah. At least tell me you know that much to be true.”

  Rowan stared at Lijah, pondering the strange knight’s call, then finally shook his head. “I will fight with my people here in Cameria,” he said. “They need me, and they need you. Come, Mariah.” He held out his hand for her to take, and together they walked to the entrance of the cave.

  Later that night, Mariah rubbed Rowan’s brow to soothe him, but she was as silent as he.

  “You are troubled, my wife, as I am.” Rowan looked up into her beautiful eyes. “You needn’t worry. I’ll not leave you.”

  Mariah forced a smile, but he could tell she was still disturbed.

  Rowan sat up and gently took her hands. “What is it, darling?”

  Mariah looking lovingly and deeply into his eyes. “You do have an image.”

  THE BATTLE FOR LAOS

  “An image … What do you mean?” Rowan asked. “Where? Where is the image?”

  “It’s on your back, on your right shoulder,” Mariah said sadly. “I first saw it after I freed you from the cave, when I was helping you change your tunic. It’s … unique.”