Sir Rowan and the Camerian Conquest

by Chuck Black

  He raised a long finger to point at the brothers. “Do you really think I couldn’t annihilate the two of you in an instant?” he chided. “I have—how shall I put it?—resources at my disposal that you can’t even imagine. You are alive simply because I have not killed you yet.”

  Histen flashed a quick smile like the glint off a dagger. “You may have a thousand who support you, but I have hundreds of thousands who support me and hate you. Can’t you feel it?” Histen turned about as if he were feeling rain falling into his open hands. “It’s everywhere, and you can’t stop it. But the truth is, I am weary of your tiresome rhetoric in my city and wish to be rid of you without causing such a dramatic stir among the people. So I have a proposal. I will give you two days to leave the city of Chessington, and I promise not to hinder your departure.”

  Histen crossed his arms, waiting for Rowan and Lijah to reply.

  “We will not stop proclaiming the Prince in Chessington,” Rowan said evenly. “And neither you nor your men nor even our deaths will stop the truth of the Prince!”

  Histen scowled at Rowan and drew close to him once again. “You really don’t know me or what I am capable of.” His eyes narrowed briefly, and then he turned away. He walked to his horse and swung into the saddle, his velvet cloak swinging behind him.

  “You’ve been warned.” He wheeled the horse around. “Leave—or die!” With a clatter of ironclad hoofs on cobblestones, he left the square, his entourage following close behind.

  Rowan stared after Histen. “Is he who I think he is?”

  “Perhaps,” Lijah replied.

  Two days later, at nightfall, Rowan and Lijah heard the clash of swords in the distance.

  “They are fighting for us.” Lijah looked in the direction of the fight.

  “Who, brother?” Rowan asked.

  Lijah hesitated. “The King’s Silent Warriors.”

  “How do you know?” Rowan asked.

  “Because Histen has sworn to destroy us, yet we are still here.”

  Rowan swallowed hard as he imagined what they would face if the Silent Warriors failed to stave off Lucius’s Shadow Warriors. These dark warriors were obviously the “resources” Alexander Histen had spoken of.

  As the days wore on, Rowan and Lijah continued faithfully, and often they heard the sounds of an ancient battle nearby. For three-and-a-half months they proclaimed, defended, and gave honor to the Prince.

  Finally, one cold winter morning, Rowan and Lijah woke to a day heavy with oppression. The clouds hung low in the sky as they walked the streets, ready to speak to any who would listen. But the attention of Chessington, along with the rest of the kingdom, had been captured by Histen this day. People were gathered on every street corner reading a proclamation that Histen’s men had posted.

  Rowan and Lijah joined a knot of citizens around a lamppost to read the new edict that was pinned there.

  ATTENTION, CITIZENS OF ARRETHTRAE!

  Governor Supreme Alexander Histen is hereby appointed King of Arrethtrae. All people will swear allegiance to King Alexander Histen and acknowledge his authority over all subjects by complying with the following proclamation:

  All subjects will bow in the presence of King Alexander Histen.

  All subjects will pay a permit fee to the king in exchange for the privilege of buying and selling goods in the kingdom of Arrethtrae. Upon the purchase of this permit, the king’s insignia will be imprinted upon the subject’s right hand. Any subject attempting to buy or sell goods without the imprint of the king will be punished.

  No subject will acknowledge the existence of any authority other than King Alexander Histen. Violation of this order is punishable by death.

  No subject is allowed to carry a sword without the explicit approval of the king. All swords will be collected within the next two days.

  No subject is allowed to travel beyond the limits of the city they reside in without proper authorization from the king.

  No subject is allowed to travel at night without proper authorization from the king.

  Any subject who fails to comply with all points of this proclamation will be immediately punished.

  All Hail King Alexander Histen!

  “It is him,” Lijah said.

  “Histen is the Dark Knight,” Rowan nearly whispered. “Lucius himself.”

  Rowan felt his bosom burn with fury, and he reached up to rip the proclamation from the post.

  “People of Chessington!” he shouted. “Do not bow your knee to Histen, for he is a false king who has profaned the true King of Arrethtrae. The Prince is coming to rule the land, and Alexander Histen will be judged!”

  The group around him seemed to dissolve as fearful people disappeared down the street.

  “Come, let’s return to the square,” Lijah said. “Many will want to hear us this day.”

  The crowd had already gathered when they arrived back at the square—thousands of people waiting to hear the response of Sir Rowan and Sir Lijah to the new proclamation. But before they could begin, the thunderous clatter of many hoofs on cobblestones surrounded them. There was no warning except the drawing of hundreds of swords.

  Rowan realized the hulking figures before them were not the guards they had faced so many times before. These were Lucius’s Shadow Warriors, fighting now in the open with no regard for secrecy or discretion.

  Rowan could see Lucius behind them, his countenance glowing with evil anticipation. The warrior force waded into the crowd, striking anyone who was in their way. People fled every which way, trying desperately to avoid the warriors’ slashing blades.

  Rowan and Lijah drew their swords as twenty massive Shadow Warriors surged toward them, with more behind. The Shadow Warriors seemed ruthless and fearless compared to their previous foes, but the two Knights of the Prince held strong, once again fighting back to back.

  Rowan’s mind flashed back to the marble plate that hung in the chamber at Nedehaven. The prophetic truth of that scene unfolded before him now.

  They fought what seemed like an endless sea of monstrous warriors. Three warriors fell, then four, then five. Rowan drew his short sword to aid his efforts, and Lijah fought with two swords as well. The power of the King’s steel vanquished foe after foe.

  Through it all, Lucius watched smugly from atop his steed. By now the crowd had dispersed, and all the citizens were hiding.

  Before the hour was half spent, more than eighty Shadow Warriors lay dead at the brothers’ feet, but more were coming, and Rowan was tiring. Would this battle ever end? he wondered. Just when the fighting seemed to slow, Lucius raised his arm, and fifty more warriors appeared from behind him, running like hounds to a feast. Rowan’s blade pounded like thunder from a storm, and Lijah fought with indomitable courage, but they slowly began to falter.

  One blade crashed down on Rowan’s shoulder so hard that he stumbled to his knee just as another cut pounded into his right side. He glanced quickly toward Lijah to see if there was any hope of help from him, but at that moment a sword blasted into Lijah’s helmet and sent him to the ground. Rowan went to cover for Lijah while he tried to regain his feet, but the Shadow Warriors would not allow it. They brought an endless concussion of blows to the brothers’ heads and chests until both men were pinned beneath an avalanche of dark grisly blades.

  “Lijah!” Rowan screamed as one large Shadow Warrior plunged a spear with all his might down toward Lijah’s chest. The spear broke in two as it collided with the King’s armor, but not before its tip penetrated deep into Lijah’s chest. Rowan tried to crawl toward his brother, but the boots of four men beat him back to the ground.

  “Lijah!” Rowan screamed again.

  “Brother,” Lijah managed to call back, but his eyes began to darken.

  “Fools!” Lucius approached them unhurriedly, drawing a sword whose flashing blade was engraved with the image of a dragon. “I am the ruler here, and there is no one to stop me—not even the messengers of the King!”

  Rowan lifted
himself up onto his elbow in an effort of defiance, but Lucius raised his wicked sword high in the air and plunged it downward with all his might. The dragon-decked blade pierced through Rowan’s armor and plunged deep into his side. Pain seared through his body and mind, and he screamed against it. The Dark Knight’s sadistic laugh added to the horror of the moment.

  Lucius put his foot on Rowan’s chest and yanked the sword from his body. Rowan crumpled to the ground, fighting for breath through collapsing lungs.

  “I have defeated the King’s messengers!” Lucius yelled. “I will rule both kingdoms, for I am greater than both the King and His Son!”

  A cheer rose up from the darkened voices of a hundred Shadow Warriors. It seemed to echo to all four corners of Arrethtrae.

  “Rowan,” Lijah rasped.

  Rowan was still an arm’s length away. His arms and legs were heavy and growing cold, but he made a monumental effort to crawl to his brother. He reached out his hand and grasped Lijah’s.

  “The King reigns…,” Lijah began, but then closed his eyes in death.

  “My Prince … why have You forsaken us?” Rowan whispered. The light of the day began to fade. His eyes closed as a still, small voice whispered in his heart, “I am here.”

  Rowan’s last thought was of holding Mariah in his arms. Then everything went dark.

  LIFE LIKE THE PRINCE

  Lucius left Rowan’s and Lijah’s bodies in the square beneath the tree for all to see—evidence that he had overcome two of the Prince’s mightiest warriors. Even those who had heeded their message dared not take the corpses for burial. They hid in their houses while the wicked men and women of the kingdom shouted and made merry over the news of the knights’ deaths. But the celebration of evil did not last long, for Lucius and his minions did not realize that the Life Spice the Prince had given to Rowan and Lijah was working in the brothers’ still forms.

  Two days their bodies lay in the square for the people to scorn, but on the third day the people of the land trembled at the sight of the work of the King … a work that had not been accomplished since the day the Prince Himself conquered the treachery of Lucius and the taint of death.

  “Rowan.”

  The sound was hollow and distant, and it seemed buried in the thunderous sound of an avalanche.

  “Rowan.”

  Something now tugged on his hand, but his body seemed paralyzed, and he couldn’t respond.

  Rowan breathed, and it seemed as if it was the first time he had ever used his lungs. At first it hurt, but then the air seemed to cleanse his whole body. Not far away, he could make out the jeers of thousands of people laughing, screaming, and shouting obscenities against the King, the Prince, Lijah, and himself.

  “Rowan,” he distinctly now heard his name, and Lijah was calling it. Had the Shadow Warriors mistakenly left them alive?

  “I am here, Lijah,” Rowan said with difficulty.

  “It is time to get up,” Lijah said.

  Rowan faintly remembered his final moments before losing consciousness and the extreme challenge he had in crawling just a few feet to Lijah. How could he possibly get up?

  Rowan very slowly turned his head toward Lijah and saw they were still lying in the same position, Rowan’s hand on top of Lijah’s.

  “Are you able, my brother?” Rowan said, now fully conscious and amazed that Lijah was still alive. “How can we yet be alive?”

  “By the power of the King,” Lijah replied. “The work of the Life Spice within us is complete, and it is time to get up. Our mission is accomplished, and the Prince is calling us home.”

  Rowan couldn’t imagine being able to move, for Lucius’s sword had pierced his side, and the pain before he fell unconscious had been unbearable.

  Still … “I will try, my brother.”

  Rowan gathered himself for a moment, much as he did when lying in bed on a cold morning, waiting for the strength and will to rise.

  “The King reigns,” Lijah began once more.

  “And His Son!” Rowan replied. At that proclamation, Rowan felt life pour into his bones and muscles. He sat up, and so did Lijah.

  “Look!”

  Rowan first heard a scream, then a collective gasp from thousands of lungs. “Impossible!” cried a voice. The shouts of alarm and exclamations elevated in volume.

  Rowan lifted himself to one knee, fully expecting an avalanche of pain to cripple his efforts, but the pain did not come. He looked at Lijah and saw him, too, rise to one knee. Unspeakable joy filled his heart as the strength of his body returned to him. He reached out to Lijah, and the two brothers grasped hands. Together they rose to stand once more, their legs weak and shaking but gaining strength by the second.

  The crowd was now in a state of sheer panic. People began to run every direction, screaming unintelligibly.

  “Come, my brother,” Lijah said. “He awaits.”

  Rowan and Lijah began walking south through the streets of Chessington, leaving a wake of shock on the face of every citizen who saw them. Some people fainted while others fell to their knees, begging the brothers not to harm them. A few shouted praises to the King, but they were few.

  Thousands of astonished people followed Rowan and Lijah as they continued south toward the Great Sea. Finally they reached the docks of Chessington. Off the end of the longest dock, a grand ship was moored, ready to sail. Two mighty warriors stood side by side just before the gangplank. Their swords were drawn and ready as they waited for their precious cargo to arrive.

  Rowan and Lijah approached the warriors and stopped just a few feet before them. Rowan recognized them as the two Silent Warriors they had briefly encountered when they were fleeing the stadium at Kroywen. The warriors lowered their swords and stepped aside, allowing Rowan and Lijah to board.

  They walked up the gangplank and onto the deck of the gallant ship. Before them stood the One who had met them on the fringe of the Altica Valley months earlier … the Prince Himself. Both men fell to one knee before Him and lowered their heads.

  Rowan felt the mighty hand of the Prince on his shoulder. “Rise, my good and faithful servants.”

  Rowan and Lijah stood and took in the warm glow of the Prince’s gaze.

  “My Lord,” Rowan said, “we proclaimed Your name to all the people, and many became Followers, but many more would not listen.”

  “You have done well, Rowan and Lijah. The hearts of men and women cannot be forced, only called, and that you have done. You sacrificed much, and great is your reward. Tonight I will gather the rest of My people, and we will all feast with My Father in the Kingdom Across the Sea.”

  “What of Lucius, my Lord?” Rowan asked. “And Gavaah in Cameria … and Malizimar in Daydelon … and the Shadow Warriors?”

  “The days of Lucius and his Shadow Warriors are numbered.” The Prince looked soberly past Rowan and Lijah to the city of Chessington and beyond. “I will return to conquer them, and you will reign with Me in the land. There shall be no end to My kingdom, and the people will prosper in peace.”

  The Prince dropped His gaze to the brothers and smiled. “But now is the time for your hearts to be filled with joy.”

  The Prince stepped aside and held out His arm toward the door of the main cabin ten paces away. One of the two Silent Warriors who had met them slowly opened the door, and Rowan held his breath as a vision of wonderment appeared before him.

  “Mariah,” he whispered, tears flooding his eyes.

  His wife stood whole and beautiful, with her arms outstretched. They ran to each other, and Rowan threw his arms around her. He held her tightly for a long while.

  “I’ve missed you so,” she whispered.

  Rowan breathed in the sweet fragrance of her hair, burying his face in its softness.

  “Mariah,” he said tenderly. “Praise the King you are here. Please don’t ever leave me.”

  Mariah leaned back from him and put her hand to his cheek.

  “Never, my love. Never again … forever!”

/>   ACROSS THE GREAT SEA

  There are those who die for the empty and worthless things of this kingdom, like silver, gold, and the acclaim of the crowds. There are those who die for noble reasons such as duty and honor. But there are a select few who will lay down their lives so that others might live. Such men were Sir Rowan and Sir Lijah. The courage they found through the Prince and the strength He gave them is far beyond anything this kingdom can understand. However, their kingdom is not of Arrethtrae, but of a place much greater.

  The telling of the story of the great Sir Rowan is one that has hushed the tongues of babes to silence … one that gives occasion for us to pause and learn much. For in spite of the King’s profound call upon his life, the great knight was nearly destroyed by the deceitful ploy of the Dark Knight. His collapse into pride was costly, for every dire vice brings dire consequences. And yet the King’s ability to recover a heart that repents of even this great of an offense is not limited. Be encouraged, therefore, for though you may have failed the King, He will never fail you nor cease in calling you home.

  On the day that Sir Rowan and Sir Lijah rose up and departed Chessington, the Prince sent forth His Silent Warriors as reapers throughout all of Arrethtrae to harvest the men, women, and children who had chosen to follow Him. Rowan and Mariah were jubilantly reunited that night with her father, Julian, and Sir Aldwyn. The silent exodus of many thousands was a time of great joy, as chronicled in previous parchments. But it was also a time of great woe, for the debauchery of Lucius, under the false name of Alexander Histen, went unabated, and his terror spread quickly throughout all four corners of the kingdom. Those left behind who did not bow or pledge their allegiance or take the Dark Knight’s mark on their hand were beaten, jailed, and even executed. Lucius used fear to rule and forced all people in every region to submit to him as king of Arrethtrae.