by J. Kirsch
"I must admit, you look very cute when you're confused. You might just make a fetching bride after all." He carefully stepped back, his hands out in a placating gesture. "We don't have time for games. I'll give you the shortened version of what you need to know, and then you decide."
I kept my blade firmly gripped and made sure that it drifted between me and him.
"Fair enough. Spit it out, then."
"Everything you've heard about me is a lie. I do not eat little children for breakfast, nor do I enjoy raping and pillaging. The other Knights despise me because I refuse to be part of the Conclave. My father and all the ancestors before him have kept the rest of Arkor at bay by using the propaganda of fear. I'd also rather be feared so that the other Knights will leave me and my people alone. I protect what I cherish, just as you would Princess."
I narrowed my eyes at him, and my next words were an accusation. "Is that so? Then tell me why I saw a string of impaled skeletons strung farther than the eye could see a few summers ago when traveling with my father to the borders of your realm?" See if you can explain your way out of this one.
Drake looked at me sadly. "Before one of my subjects dies, they choose what will be done with their body. Some donate their body for anatomical research. Others choose to donate their body for the defense of the Kingdom. They can die satisfied knowing that their skeletons will be used as part of the Wall of Fear to deter outsiders. Those skeletons are of people who have died of natural causes and illnesses, not people whom I have had killed, Princess."
Damn him. He sounded so reasonable that I wanted to tear his eyes out. So instead I said this: "What do you have to say for yourself about this…That anyone who ventures into your Kingdom is never heard from again? If you're so benevolent, explain that."
Again the Knight gave me a sad look, as if he wished none of this were necessary. "It is true that I must keep my Kingdom safe, and that means secrecy. Those who enter my lands are compelled to stay. For a time they are watched and forced, but eventually I let them choose. Those who still want to leave are given a potion of forgetfulness so that they can't reveal anything. The others stay as my subjects by their own free will."
He stepped forward boldly, his own life forgotten as he reached out to rest two hands on my shoulders.
My hand clenched around the hilt of my sword, but I didn't bring it up to strike him. Instead I saw the desperation in his eyes. The desperation of needing to be believed. I felt his hands warm my skin through the fabric of my tunic.
"I would debate the matter to your satisfaction if I could, Princess, but time is not on our side. Lady Agwen has apparently decided that you being banished to my Kingdom as a bride-to-be is too good for you. She's mustered an army, and she means to see you dead."
So, the mother of the Red Knight really does have that much hatred toward me. Could I blame her? I'd killed her son. Yet the fierce, stubborn voice of my brother broke into my mind. No, Naji. No bride deserves to be slapped and beaten in her wedding bed for the groom's enjoyment. What you did when you reached out and took the knife wasn't wrong. It was instinct. You were protecting yourself.
Tears gathered at my eyes, but I swiped at them before they could fall down my cheeks.
"Naji, what do you want to do? I'll follow your lead," Bronwyn said.
To my shock I said these words: "Leave us, please."
Bronwyn looked like she hadn't heard me right.
"Please. It's okay. Wait for me in the tent."
Reluctantly my friend finally listened, and then it was just me and the handsome Black Knight, face to face with what seemed an electrified chemistry stirring between us.
"Why are you doing this? You would fight an entire army to protect me?"
Drake looked at me with caring eyes which were now storm grey under the cloud-obscured sky. "She was a servant in the Red Knight's household. The spy I told you about. She'd seen him hurt many other women. She'd sometimes been a victim herself. What you did took great courage."
He carefully wrapped his arms around me, and I felt his chin rest on top of my head. I felt encased. His warmth surrounded me, even through his body armor.
"I've admired you and wanted to help you ever since that night, Naji. When my spies told me of your fate, I promised myself that as soon as you got close enough to my Kingdom, as soon as I had the power and resources to help you, I would." He tilted my face upward and looked at me.
I couldn't believe I was doing this, but I did it. My hands clasped the sides of his face, bringing it down to mine for a slow kiss, probationary at first. Then the kiss become a full blown lips to lips, mouth on mouth connection. I finally broke away, my heart hammering in my chest as I looked up at him.
"That's how we say 'I believe you' in the White Kingdom," I told him with a wry look. He stared back at me carefully as if unsure that this was what I wanted.
"Princess Najika, I swear to be your Champion. To protect you and to guard you with my life. I swear this, also; I will not be like the other Knights you have known. I know you have no special reason to trust me. The other Knights who betrayed you and wanted to condemn you to death were no less handsome than me. They were no less skilled with a blade or powerful. But being a Knight isn't about ornate armor, weapons of power, or flowery speech. For me it's about something else. It's about being a protector."
Drake looked into my eyes and said those words with an earnest face that had me recalling a fond memory. The son of a nobleman telling me that he wanted me to be his girl as we sat in the branches of the peach tree in the royal gardens, our faces covered in fruit juices. Right now was a moment of total vulnerability, and I found it working its appalling magic on me.
"That's certainly…more than anyone else has ever promised me," I said, my heart pounding. "Words are cheap, though, wouldn't you say?" I gave him a wicked grin. "I assume you have a battle plan?"
As if my approval had turned him from a toad into a prince, the Black Knight became the inscrutable man I'd first seen on the shore of the bathing pool. Drake nodded. "I believe so, Princess. If you'll join me, then we must speak with the trolls. Lady Agwen's army has moved to block Greyrock Pass, and she knows there is no other way back into my Kingdom…not without a detour that would take us ten days out of our way."
His eyes turned to steel. "I'd rather nip this nightmare in the bud. I don't think Lady Agwen will defer her vengeance. If we don't strike her a blow now, she'll keep adding to her forces and invade my Kingdom."
The thought of the woman who'd raised the Red Knight no longer gave me fear. It made me angry. I wondered how many other victims she'd helped her son abuse and forced to keep quiet about it. A lethal smile spread over my face.
"We can't have that, can we? I guess we'll have to kill the bitch."
My vulgar language took the Black Knight by surprise. "Those are not the words of a Lady," he said with a frown.
I shrugged. "I thought you liked 'feisty' women?" I turned my back on him and prepared to gather up the rest of my gear. Apparently I was about to fight in my first battle.
Chapter 6
Battles were not the stuff of romance I thought they were. I wasn't prepared for the carnage that followed. I wasn't ready for the terrifying, heart-rending images that my eyes could never un-see.
Lady Agwen's standard was a red lion and stag intertwined on a field of gold. Her battle standard flapped in the breeze as her knights took up their formations. Their steeds were armored, the knights' lances sharpened to fine points as the horn blew and the ranks surged into motion.
I sat beside Drake, who looked like a creature out of nightmare in his black body armor and horned helm. The trolls had formed up like ranks of wheat on either side of us, tightly packed and swaying, chanting in their strange, harsh-sounding tongue.
"What are they doing?"
"Gathering up their courage just like us," he replied. Bronwyn stood with the archers well behind the front lines. She was a doughty girl, but her farming father had never traine
d her to fight from horseback as I had been.
"I really hope this works," I said, worry skittering up and down my arms. My stomach clenched. I wanted to vomit.
"The knights of the Red Kingdom may be valiant, but they've never fought trolls," the Black Knight replied.
The time for talk was done, and the waves of armored death were nearly on us. The lances swung level, ready to skewer us all as the drumbeat of hooves filled my ears. The knee-high grass could hide much, though, and right now they hid giant shields several inches thick. At the call of the trolls' battle horn suddenly there was a desperate heaving of ropes and trolls in a frenzy at the base of each shield struggled to keep them from sliding from their appointed places.
All along the battle line the shields rose up, each twice the height of a man, and in the next instant the wave of Agwen's knights slammed into that obstacle with a terrible force. I heard the sounds of shrieking men, shouting trolls, and terrified horses. Battle was joined, and for a moment I watched with my hands twitching on the hilt of my sword, eager to become wrapped up in the chaos.
Some of the horses managed to punch through with sheer force, but most of the shield wall held. The few knights who did plunge through were quickly overwhelmed by trolls swinging clubs as long as saplings. They would swing with a resounding THWACK, crunching bone and denting armor as the knights desperately tried to hack their way forward. But each time the trolls were able to plug up the gap. The knights of the Red Kingdom milled about uncertainly with the shield wall holding firm when Drake raised his hand and threw it down in a vicious motion, giving the signal 'Let the arrows fly!'
I imagined Bronwyn and the other trolls unleashing a thousand shafts into the air, and then I saw them, a cloud of pointy killers which blotted out part of the sky and arced towards the enemy. The first wave of arrows pelted the knights and horses, but their armor seemed to deflect most of them. I shot Drake a puzzled look.
"That didn't seem to faze them," I said.
"Just watch."
I looked back and realized that there was a new kind of screaming coming from the mass of knights. This was a different flavor of scream from the one that came with the crunch of bone. Some of the knights' armor was smoking, the metal literally melting as they writhed and pitched off their horses.
"Acid. The most aggressive kind," the Black Knight told me with grim finality.
That was when the floodgates opened. With the knights of the Red Kingdom in disarray and with all of Lady Agwen's forces committed to the battle, it was time for a push of our own.
"Are you ready, Princess?"
I drew my weapon, hoping that was answer enough.
The shield wall tumbled down as the trolls war-whooped with their hair-raising, inhuman cry of rage. The trolls were not well armored. In fact they wore nothing but the many layers of cloth wrappings they seemed so fond of. But seeing them move was like watching acrobats, and their giant clubs were swung with the ease I might swing a twig—except each one was nearly as thick as a tree trunk.
Drake had one squad of trusted knights who'd accompanied him on this expedition outside of his own Kingdom. They flanked us, giving me a false sense of safety as we thundered onto the battlefield. It wasn't long before I met my first enemy knight. He was older, and he didn't look especially regretful as his sword leapt to tear out my throat. I ducked underneath the attack, parried a second blow, and then slashed at his foot, drawing a bright ribbon of blood as he screamed and lunged over to stab me through.
I brought my shield up, deflecting the strike only to have him use his own shield as a weapon. He bashed it against my helm, disorienting me. I dropped my shield as he repositioned the blade for another thrust—one I didn't have a prayer of avoiding.
His eyes went wide as Drake's great-sword created a line where his shoulder blade had been.
No sword could cut through armor like that except an enchanted weapon. Something only a Knight would have. It's an artifact of power, you idiot. I should've known. Drake handed me his spare shield and told me sternly. "Stay close, Princess. I want this to be your first battle, not your last."
He waded ahead, dealing death as he went. Crimson knights fell in his wake, and I followed him. My goal for the day had rapidly changed from 'Find glory and slay the enemy' to 'Try not to die, Naji.'
I ducked under a brutal attack from another mounted knight, swept my own blade out instinctually. My blow came before he could react, glancing off of his helm. The force behind my blow sent him reeling, and before he could recover I thrust between the joints of the plates which protected his groin. With a cry of pain he felt my blade sink in, draining his life blood as I drew it back out. I cantered my horse forward.
He hadn't been the first man I'd ever killed, but it was the first time I'd ever killed a man with that kind of premeditation, knowing for a fact that it was me or him.
I focused on the present, discarding my guilt and taking in the carnage around me. It was horrific. This was not the glorious battle I'd envisioned. It was desperate life against life. It was men and trolls, some with their entrails pouring out of them as they lay lifeless. It was bellows of rage and pain. A troll next to me died, his neck almost severed. Blood spattered my face, covered the visor of my helm. I had to yank the thing off and wipe at my face just to be able to see, and that's when I felt an arrow punch into my shoulder, tearing into the body armor.
My left arm felt a spasm of pain and I turned, confused. Lady Agwen's forces hadn't had any archers. So why…
That's when I realized that on the ridge overlooking the battlefield a tall, green standard with a charging unicorn flapped in the breeze.
It was the Green Knight's standard, and his archers, rows upon rows of them, were starting to unleash volleys of death into both the knights of the Red Kingdom and our own forces indiscriminately.
Beside him a woman rode on a tall chestnut horse. She wore a crown, its centerpiece fixed with a diamond. Even without being close enough to see the detail, I knew. It was her. Lady Agwen. Had she willingly sacrificed her entire army to lure us into a trap? That's the only thing that made sense, and it also meant that the Green Knight had formed an unusual alliance with her.
We were doomed.
I looked around frantically, and Drake was suddenly there by my side. "Are you hurt?" He grappled at my shoulder, eyeing the depth of the penetration. With a tug he tore the shaft free and tossed it aside.
"It barely pierced the skin. You were lucky. Now come. We must go." He gestured for me to follow, but I stubbornly sheathed my sword and reached for my bow. I had been an expert markswoman when Father trained me. The range was extreme, but Lady Agwen was not beyond bowshot. I prepared to nock an arrow when Drake grabbed me roughly by the arm.
"Najika, listen to me. Don't be a fool. I care for you." Those words care for you hit me like a blow. The insanity of those words coming from a man who had gore splattered over half of his torso almost made me smirk, but instead I nodded and let him guide me in retreat.
"So much for your brilliant plan, Sir Knight," I said as we cantered free of the carnage. The trolls were regrouping at the edge of the forest which faced the ridge, but just when I thought we might have a chance of turning this thing around a blood curdling yell came from the shadows of those same trees. Men-at-arms in chainmail armed with spears rushed into the open, working in a planned formation as they slammed into the surprised trolls. It was like watching clay pigeons smashed by a sling's stone then shatter into a million pieces. The trolls broke ranks and fled, except there was nowhere to flee to.
The rest of the trolls near the center of the battlefield had frantically repositioned the shield wall to give them a break from the showers of arrows which the Green Knight's archers were flinging at them one after another, but it was only a matter of time before what was left of our army felt the squeeze of the Green Knight's intended sandwich. The Green Knight's mounted knights were ready to outflank us on either side of the ridge, and his spear-bristling sold
iers advanced at a deliberate pace from the opposite direction.
"I didn't want to have to do this, Princess." He handed me a conch. "Please do the honors and blow, hard as you can." The shell seemed to gleam as I put it uncertainly to my lips. I blew with all my strength, the air whooshing from my lungs.
It made a satisfying, low rumble and then something in the air seemed to shift.
"You know, Princess, although the Knights of Arkor don't like to admit it, there are items of magical worth besides their precious 'artifacts of power.'" Drake turned to me, grim humor in his eyes. "Be prepared to flee for your life."
"I thought that's what we were doing."
"We were, but in a moment we'll actually have a prayer of escaping," Drake said, and in the distance what began as a rumble had begun to sound like a deep, deep thunder-crack under the earth.
I gaped. My jaw went slack and I whispered a few un-ladylike words as three towering monstrosities came into view.
"Befriending the trolls was never an accident, Princess. We both see the other Knights of Arkor as what they are—treacherous backstabbers always looking for power. There was once a time when the only semi-sentient beings in Arkor were an ancient breed of giant trolls who roamed the land unchallenged. The magical Horn of Calling I gave you is old enough and blessed with a magic that opens a rift in time itself to call them to the present."
I tried to stop gaping. "They look pissed."
"They are. Being pulled out of your own time period will do that. It's one reason I hate to invoke the horn. No creature should be ripped so violently from their home. They will look for whatever they can to smash. To destroy things, in their grief."
I noticed exactly that as the first of the lumbering giant trolls began to run along the ridge where the Green Knight's archers had been lined up in such neat formation. That formation now crumbled in a flurry of screams, thrown hands, and discarded bows as each man ran for his life. I could see what I thought might be the Green Knight's figure, gesturing rapidly and trying to rally his archers to throw a deadly volley at the rampaging troll.