Kingdom's Quest

by Chuck Black

  Gavinaugh struggled with being near such base treatment of people, but realized that only the compassion of the Prince could ultimately abolish such detestable practices.

  A sale had just finished, and the auctioneer motioned to a guard to bring the next slave forward. A large man in shackles was taken to the front of the platform.

  “Here is a fine specimen of brawn that is well suited to labor on any estate. Sir Boron, I hear you are in need of an extra hand. What a fine opportunity for you today! Or perhaps we have a buyer from Thecia looking for a swordsman to entertain his crowd. I tell you, this is one of the best to cross this platform in months. The bidding will start at fifty florins.”

  The response from the crowd was apparent, for this was an unusually high starting bid.

  A wealthy man nodded, and the bidding began. After an exchange of bids between the wealthy man and another man with unfamiliar attire, the deal closed at 125 florins. The slave trader smiled broadly in anticipation of his profit.

  Gavinaugh and Weston worked their way to the front of the crowd as the next slave was brought onto the auction platform. A young woman with long brown hair that was twisted and gnarled was pushed to the front of the platform. Though her head was lowered, she glanced briefly at the crowd, and Gavinaugh saw bitterness and hatred emanating from the depths of her soul. The shackles on her feet and wrists had worn the flesh beneath raw. The guard pushed her the last few paces, and she turned toward him as if to attack. The guard put his hand to his sword. She turned away and took a final step forward. Once at the front of the platform, she stared at the planks beneath her feet, her hair nearly covering her face. Her body was thin, and a tattered dress hung loosely from her frame.

  The crowd began to chortle, and the auctioneer struggled to find the right words to begin.

  “Settle down and let’s get on with business. Who will open the bidding at twenty florins for this, ah … excellent worker?” he asked.

  The crowd roared in laughter.

  “Why is everyone laughing?” Gavinaugh asked a fat fellow he was standing next to. He had to ask twice since the man’s own laughter was deafening. His double chin jiggled with each guttural expulsion.

  “That’s Crazy Keanna. They couldn’t pay someone to take her!” He laughed all the harder.

  The auctioneer tried to settle the crowd. “Ten florins is a steal … Who will start at ten?”

  Gavinaugh questioned the man further. “Why not?”

  “You’re obviously not from these parts. Crazy Keanna has run away a hundred times, and she even stabbed her last owner.” He pointed to a man standing near one of the slave traders. His arm was bandaged, and the anger on his face was evident.

  “She’s been sold a dozen times and beaten dozens more, but quite frankly no one dares buy her ’cause she’s a vicious creature. I’m surprised she’s survived this long.” The auctioneer lowered the bid to five florins, and the fat man laughed even harder. So did the rest of the crowd.

  Gavinaugh could stand it no longer. He broke from the crowd and walked into the open space before the waist-high platform. The crowd hushed somewhat.

  “Are you making a bid, sir?” the auctioneer asked.

  Gavinaugh looked up at the pathetic young woman, but her eyes were now blank and empty. He turned to face the people.

  “People of Santiok, I am Sir Gavinaugh, from the city of Chessington. The King of Arrethtrae never intended for people to be bought and sold like cattle. What you are doing here is wrong!”

  “Guards!” The auctioneer called, and four men brandishing swords came from each side of the platform. The tension escalated quickly, and the crowd began to murmur.

  There was no hesitation in the approach of the guards. Weston stepped forward to intercept the two guards coming from the left and drew his sword. Gavinaugh did so as well, contending with the guards from the right.

  “I was hoping for a little different response,” he said to Weston over his shoulder.

  Weston glanced back. “I can see that traveling with you is going to continue to be an adventure.”

  The guards immediately brought their swords to bear on them. Gavinaugh and Weston fought back to back as the guards spread their attack. The crowd backed away to allow room for fighting and twittered with excitement.

  Swords flew swiftly to meet each slice and cut. The guards found themselves in a fight against two superbly trained swordsmen who did not falter. Gavinaugh met the slice of one guard with the flat of his blade, countered to put the man in retreat, then brought his sword powerfully across to his other opponent. With a quick thrust, he pierced the sword arm of his opponent just enough to cause him to withdraw. He then focused on his remaining opponent. He feigned a retreat, and the guard executed a thrust at Gavinaugh’s chest. Gavinaugh parried and put a bind on the guard’s sword that wrenched it from his grip. Gavinaugh made a quick thrust to put the man in retreat, which kept the man from recovering his sword.

  He turned to help Weston, but one of his opponents was already backing away due to a wound in his thigh, and the other seemed hesitant to engage again. The auctioneer motioned across the street to a reserve of guards that began making their way through the crowd. Gavinaugh jumped onto the platform and held his sword high in the air.

  “Citizens of Santiok … what gives you the right to consider yourselves more worthy than any of the slaves here? Is it your wealth? Is it your might? If I were to challenge any here to a duel and defeat him, would I not then be mightier than he? Does this give me the right to rule him as his owner? If so, then who here will challenge me?”

  The crowd was silent, and the slave lifted her head to look at Gavinaugh. He glanced toward her and noticed that her blank stare was gone and her eyes were now angry and penetrating.

  Gavinaugh turned to the auctioneer and pointed his sword at him. At that the guards halted their approach. “You—what gives you the right to sell people and not yourself be sold?” Gavinaugh felt the fire of the Prince flowing through his veins.

  “There is none more mighty in all the land than the King, Himself, and yet He gives all people of Arrethtrae the right to choose their own course. I am a free man and yet choose to serve the King because He is good, just, and honorable above all. Listen and understand! When the kingdom turned away from the King, He sent His only Son to come to this wretched land and teach us of His great compassion. So great was His love that the Prince gave His life as a substitute for what we ourselves deserve. Now He lives and will come again to the land as our King. Open your eyes and accept the truth.”

  Gavinaugh sheathed his sword and walked to the young woman in shackles.

  “Whether prince or pauper, nobleman or peasant, freeman or slave, the King sees all as equal and does not respect any because of wealth or position. He looks for true nobility in the hearts of men and women. For this reason I implore you to follow the ways of the King and His Son.”

  Gavinaugh lifted his arm toward the young woman named Keanna. “Free your slaves, and show compassion to your fellow citizens, as the King has shown His compassion to you.”

  Some in the crowd were moved by the emotional words Gavinaugh spoke, but many began to ridicule and taunt him. Throughout his oration Keanna’s eyes never left him.

  “You are as crazy as Crazy Keanna!” one man shouted.

  “Go back to Chessington, and keep your foolish notions to yourself!” another shouted.

  “Off the platform!”

  The auctioneer stepped forward and held up his arms. “Perhaps this good man is right!”

  The crowd quieted; many looked surprised.

  “Although profitable, this is a detestable business we are in.” He motioned for the guard with the keys to approach.

  Gavinaugh sensed the sarcasm and saw twenty to thirty guards gathering nearby.

  “To show good faith in our intentions to honor the King and this man’s eloquent speech, we shall begin releasing our slaves right now.”

  The guard began un
locking the woman’s shackles. She was still staring fiercely at Gavinaugh.

  “By the King’s authority I release this slave to your care!” he exclaimed as the last binding fell from Keanna. She did not move.

  The crowd laughed and resumed their heckling. Gavinaugh was not angry but felt pity for the woman, for the people, for the whole land. They did not understand that the consequence of their folly would be great. He walked and stood before Keanna.

  “You are free to go,” he said gently.

  Keanna looked into his eyes with an anger that Gavinaugh did not understand. She lifted her hands and looked at the raw rings about her wrists. Then she reached back and slapped Gavinaugh across the face with all her might. The crowd erupted in laughter as Keanna jumped from the platform and frantically pushed her way through the crowd. Once clear, she ran down the open street.

  By now a full contingent of guards had surrounded the platform.

  “Leave at once or you will die!” the auctioneer commanded.

  Gavinaugh jumped from the platform. He and Weston exited peacefully and retreated to their horses.

  “They are all fools!” Weston said.

  “Not all,” came a voice from behind them.

  Gavinaugh and Weston turned to see that four men had followed them from the crowd.

  “We heard your words and know that there is truth in what you say. We want to hear more,” one of the men said, and the others nodded their agreement.

  “I am Gavinaugh. This is Weston.”

  “I am Turner. This is Aldrich, Denley, and Reed,” the man said as he pointed to each of his friends.

  “We will gladly tell you all, gentlemen. Is there a place we can talk?” Gavinaugh asked.

  “Yes. Just up the street on the left I have a shop,” Turner said.

  Gavinaugh nodded. “Very well. We shall meet you there shortly. I need to find the lass that took flight and try to help her.”

  “We will assist you, but our chances are slim. She is as slippery as a fish,” Reed said.

  “Where might she go?”

  “Perhaps to steal food … perhaps to the country. It would be wise if we split up and met back at my shop before dusk. It’s just over there,” the man said and pointed to his shop.

  “Very well.”

  Gavinaugh and Weston mounted their horses and galloped in the direction they last saw her run and then split up at the next thoroughfare. Gavinaugh was confused by the girl’s reaction toward him and wondered if looking for her was really such a good idea. He rode by a bread shop and saw the owner swearing and looking up the street.

  “Has a young woman been by?” he asked.

  “You mean the wench who stole my bread?”

  Gavinaugh reached into his pocket for money to pay for the bread. “Which way did she go?”

  The man indicated up the street, and Gavinaugh rode in that direction. He slowed his horse to a walk.

  “Can you help me, Triumph?” he said. The animal snorted.

  A little farther up, Triumph stopped between a candle maker’s shop and an inn. Gavinaugh dismounted and slowly walked between the wooden and stone structures to the alleyway behind. He could hear two pigs foraging in a nearby heap. Just behind the inn, he saw Keanna ravenously eating the bread. She was hunkered down on the ground with her back to him.

  “Would you like some water with that?” he asked.

  Keanna startled. She jumped up and began to look for a way to escape.

  “Please don’t run … I want to help you.” He offered his water flask to her.

  Once again she stared hard at him. She cautiously took the flask and drank heavily, never taking her eyes off Gavinaugh. She ate and drank some more.

  “Where are you from, Keanna?” he asked.

  “Not from this wretched place,” she said between bites.

  Gavinaugh could not help feeling great compassion for her. She looked as though she was slightly younger than he. Although she apparently was capable of violent action, he wondered what her story was and how she had come to such a sorry state.

  “Where will you go now?” he asked.

  She looked at him somewhat perplexed. “Away … away from here … away from everyone!”

  “What will you do?”

  “Why do you care?” she asked angrily.

  Gavinaugh looked at her gnarled, matted hair and dirty, bruised face. Her upper lip was swollen and cracked. Dried blood filled the crevice made by a recent strike. “Because I have learned from the Prince that every soul in the kingdom needs compassion … even a slave girl who hates the world.”

  Keanna stopped chewing, and for one brief moment Gavinaugh saw the harsh lines of anger on her face recede.

  “Let me help you. There is an inn right here where I will be staying. I will arrange for a bath, clothes, and food for you. If you choose to leave, I won’t stand in your way.”

  Keanna’s eyes narrowed as if to question Gavinaugh’s sincerity. Something connected in her thoughts, and she slowly nodded her head in agreement. He waited for her to finish the bread and then took her to the front of the inn. As they passed by Triumph, he nickered and went to Keanna. She stopped and stroked his neck. The horse nudged her affectionately.

  “I think he likes you,” Gavinaugh said.

  Keanna didn’t reply. She leaned on the horse and rested her head against his muscular neck. Triumph responded gently and allowed her to take comfort from him.

  In the inn, Gavinaugh made arrangements with the innkeeper and his wife. They seemed fair and kind, although they were somewhat cautious regarding Keanna.

  “Once she is fed and clean, give her a room with a soft bed to sleep in. Here is payment through tonight,” he said. They accepted his money, and he left to find Weston and the other men.

  Back at Turner’s shop, the four men listened anxiously to Gavinaugh as he told them of the story of the Prince. There was a yearning in their hearts that was evident by the sparkle in their eyes. In this dark corner of the kingdom, Gavinaugh and Weston found men of hope and courage who longed for the truth that would transcend the despairing pit of commonality. He told them of the past and of the future and also of the silent raging battle between the forces of the Prince and of Lucius.

  “What you tell us is glorious to hear. What must we do?” Reed asked.

  “Simply believe, tell others, and prepare. You must train for battle against the Dark Knight and his Shadow Warriors,” Gavinaugh replied.

  “But we know nothing of warfare,” Turner said.

  “We will train you to become Knights of the Prince. In our absence you must continue what we have taught you and increase in your knowledge and skill with the sword,” Gavinaugh said. “Such a choice may cost you everything, but the freedom and joy you will gain in your service to the King and the Prince will be more precious than gold. Are you willing?”

  “We are,” they replied in unison.

  Gavinaugh knighted the four men, and the haven at Santiok was begun.

  By the day’s end, the passion of these four men to learn the art of the sword and to live by the Code was invigorating. They determined to meet each day to continue training.

  “What of the slave girl?” Aldrich asked Gavinaugh.

  “She is at the inn. I arranged for food, clothing, and a room to sleep in tonight,” he said.

  “I’d be surprised if she is still there in the morning.”

  “Why do you say that?” Gavinaugh asked.

  “Because from what I have heard, she has tried to either run away from or injure every master she’s ever had,” Aldrich replied.

  “I am not her master, and she is free to leave at any time,” Gavinaugh said.

  Weston and Gavinaugh returned to the inn for the evening meal. Gavinaugh knocked on Keanna’s door, but there was no response. “Our supper is prepared if you would like to eat.” He spoke to the closed door, not sure if she was even in the room.

  In the dining room, Weston and Gavinaugh were seated when Ke
anna descended the stairs to join them. Although her countenance was still as hard as stone, something spectacular glimmered beneath the fury of her eyes, and Gavinaugh was momentarily distracted. Her dark brown hair, now clean and combed, hung loosely about her shoulders, contrasting with her captivating, sky blue eyes. Her face was clean, but the bruises of her prior torment were still evident. Keanna ate her meal in silence, as Gavinaugh and Weston discussed the training and future plans for the newly founded haven.

  The next morning, Keanna joined them again for breakfast.

  “Did you sleep well, Keanna?” Weston asked.

  She looked at him and nodded.

  “We will be training today, but one of the men has offered his home to us to stay in. We can take you there now if you’d like,” Gavinaugh said to Keanna.

  She stared at him blankly, and Gavinaugh wondered if perhaps she hadn’t understood him.

  “I will go with you,” she finally replied.

  Gavinaugh looked at Weston, and he nodded his approval.

  They trained the new Knights of the Prince for many days, and many men and women joined their ranks daily. The haven of Santiok became strong in the ways of the Code and of the Prince. Although Keanna was always with them, and in particular with Gavinaugh, she did not warm to them in the least. She took it upon herself to care for their horses, and the only time Gavinaugh saw her soften was when she groomed Triumph. On one occasion, Gavinaugh caught Keanna staring at him with a countenance full of malice. She quickly diverted her eyes, which left Gavinaugh wondering. Later he made an attempt to talk to her, but a wall of bitterness surrounded her like an impenetrable fortress. He was confused as to why she chose to be with him throughout the day when she despised him so. He finally attributed it to the harsh life she had lived and was hopeful that over time she would come to accept the compassion of the Prince.