The Golden Knight #2: The Battle for Rone

by Steven and Justin Clark

  “Wait a second now, let us not do something we might regret later,” Franco pleaded.

  With one quick sweep, Marsonee’s sword cut the rope holding Franco. He fell to the ground with a groan.

  “Are you not going to untie my hands,” Franco suggested. He stood up and shook the dust from his clothes.

  “You hardly are worthy of that kind of trust,” Marsonee said.

  Justin knelt down and began throwing dirt on the campfire. The fire slowly died out.

  “Once we get to Rone, I will become the Golden Knight,” Justin remarked.

  “Perhaps,” Marsonee said almost in a whisper. “Perhaps.”

  Princess Rainna emerged from the tent. She wore a clean outfit, similar to the one she had worn the previous night. Her black hair was wet. She tossed it back over her shoulders with one motion of her head. The Book was safely in her hands.

  “Did you sleep well, Princess?” Justin asked.

  “I did,” she replied. “It was very kind of you to allow me to use the tent the entire night.”

  “We did not prepare any food,” Justin said.

  “It is fine,” Rainna said. “I have food in my saddle bag. All of you are welcome to share it.”

  “I could sure use some,” Franco said.

  Justin and Franco walked over to the horse.

  “She was not speaking to you,” Marsonee replied. He reached into the saddle bag. Feeling a metal object, he pulled it out. It was a fire sword.

  “What is that?” Justin asked.

  “It is a weapon from one of Flar’s fire soldiers,” Marsonee remarked. He turned to face Rainna. “Why would the Princess from the House of Devon have a weapon such as this?”

  “I took it,” she stammered out. “When I escaped the castle.”

  “You never have told us how you managed to escape,” Marsonee said.

  “We need to get moving,” Justin interrupted. He took the fire sword from Marsonee and placed it back in the saddle bag. “We can talk about these things on the road.”

  “I am hiding no secrets,” she remarked.

  “What one does not know or tell can be considered a secret,” Marsonee remarked. “And there is much we do not know about you.”

  Rainna placed the Book in her saddle bag. She mounted her horse. Marsonee and Justin mounted their horses. Franco stood beside them.

  “There are only three horses,” he said. “How am I supposed to get to Rone?”

  “You walk, thief,” the archangel replied.

  “How am I going to walk there?” Franco pleaded. “I barely have shoes on my feet.”

  “I will share my horse with you,” Justin said. “I will ride the first few hours and then you can take my place.”

  “I will do the same,” Rainna remarked.

  “Princess, it is not necessary,” Justin said. “You should remain on your horse.”

  “We journey together,” she said. “We will share the hardships together as well.”

  The days quickly passed. Along the way, Justin and Rainna grew closer to one another. They passed through several villages, but the group did not stay long in any of them. Marsonee’s heart was further hardened by the condition of the people. It was late afternoon on the third day when they arrived on the outskirts of Rone. There were some fields around the city, but most of the plants were barren of crops. A handful of ragged townspeople were working the dry, parched land. Rone was once a large city, surrounded by a mighty stone wall several hundred feet tall with thick towers. Now, only parts of that wall remained while the rest had crumbled into piles of stone.

  There was a river which flowed into the city. The waters were shallow and dirty. The main gate had been destroyed. The group rode into the city unnoticed. Franco walked beside them. Inside the gate, there was a town square surrounded by rows of wooden and grass houses. Small fires burned in the streets sending black smoke into the air. The townspeople wandered aimlessly.

  “It does not seem like much of a city,” Justin remarked.

  “Rone was a magnificent place at one time,” Rainna answered. “The capital of the kingdom and a shining light of the arts and commerce.”

  “There is nothing shining here anymore,” Franco said.

  “It shall be great again,” she remarked. “When justice has been returned to this land.”

  “Not in a million years,” Franco replied.

  “What do you say, Marsonee?” Justin asked. “Can Rone be great again?”

  “It may take a million years or just the blink of an eye for time is a creation of this world,” the archangel answered. “But it has been my experience that all things can be made great again when they are grounded in a foundation of faith.”

  “Will they recognize you?” Justin asked Rainna. “Are you in danger here?”

  “I was born in Rone,” she answered. “Before the dark times overshadowed this land and Flar destroyed the city. There is no one left here who would know me now.”

  “You would think they would be more impressed with a big angel like you,” Franco remarked to Marsonee.

  “These people have no vision,” the archangel remarked. “They perished long ago.”

  A small crowd of people had taken notice of their arrival and gathered by one of the grass houses.

  “Remi! Remi!” they chanted as Rainna rode by them.

  “What are they saying?” Justin asked, settling his nervous horse.

  “I do not know,” Rainna puzzlingly replied. “It sounds like a name.”

  “It sounds like Remi,” Franco said.

  “Pay them no heed,” Marsonee remarked. “They know not what they are saying.”

  The ancient Cathedral of Rone stood in the center of the city. Its stained glass windows were shattered and pieces of stone had crumbled off the side of the building. Statues and art carvings were broken. There was one large tower which reached skyward. As they approached, a bell began to ring sending a flock of birds into the air.

  “We are here,” Marsonee said as he dismounted his horse.

  Rainna and Justin climbed down from their horses. Rainna removed the Book from her saddle bag.

  “Looks pretty scary to me,” Franco observed. “Maybe I should just wait out here and watch the horses. Besides, my hands are still tied.”

  “We will all go in together,” Justin said. “You might steal our horses. Marsonee, cut him loose.”

  Marsonee drew his sword.

  “I really do not like when you point that thing at me,” Franco said. The blade sliced through the ropes on his hands with ease. “That sure feels a lot better.”

  They walked up the stone steps. Justin pushed the two massive, wooden doors open. The doors creaked with age. Inside was a large, open room with four smaller sections jutting out in each direction. Several of the support beams had collapsed and the floor was covered in dust and rubble. There were rows and rows of long wooden benches. Against the far wall, the floor was slightly elevated with a table broken in half. A marble cross was embedded in the wall, roughly fifty feet above the floor.

  “What has happened here?” Rainna gasped.

  “Hello?” Justin called out. His voice echoed across the room and the down the dark hallways. “Is anyone here?”

  “It looks like we came to an empty house?” Franco mused.

  “It does not feel empty,” Rainna slowly said, clutching the Book against her chest. She glanced around the sanctuary. “There is a presence here. We are not alone.”

  “A spirit perhaps,” Marsonee said. “Trapped in this realm by the Great Divide. It senses the wisdom of the King in the ancient Book and is drawn to it, just as it was drawn to this church. It will do us no harm.”

  “What if it is an evil spirit?” Franco nervously asked. “Then what?”

  “This is a holy place,” Marsonee said. “No amount of destruction can alter that truth. Just be thankful, thief, that your being here has not turned you into a pillar of salt.”

  “What is
this?” Justin wondered, kneeling down beside an old, rusted box. He opened the tiny door. “Marsonee, take a look at this.”

  Marsonee walked over to the broken altar. “What have you found, boy?” he asked.

  “It looks like bread,” Justin said, holding up a small piece. “And a flask of wine. They seem to have been perfectly preserved in this box.”

  “What was this old building used for anyway?” Franco said.

  The old, bald man peered out from behind the cross. He was short, only four feet tall and covered in a brown, ragged robe held together by a rope which was tied around his waist. He drew a short sword.

  “You shall not touch the most sacred of hosts!” the old man screamed as he leaped down from behind the cross.

  Justin looked up and immediately rolled to his left to avoid the old priest from landing on top of him. The old man swung his sword causing Justin to fall backwards.

  “Wait! We mean you no harm!” Rainna called out.

  “The cathedral is closed,” the old man said. “There is no service today.”

  “We gathered that much,” Franco said. “But if you are looking for a fight, I am willing to wager that I can take you, old man.”

  “Put down your weapon,” Marsonee commanded. “I shall not allow you to harm the boy. We have come by command of the Most High King.”

  The old priest saw Marsonee standing there. He looked at Rainna holding the Book. He dropped his sword and fell to his knees. The old man buried his head in his hands and wept.

  “You have come,” he said. “Just as you have promised me, my King. I have asked for all of them and they have come.”

  Chapter Five

  Murlox entered the throne room of Castle Devon. Flar sat on the throne, his eyes glowing red with anger. Murlox approached and knelt down on one knee.

  “You summoned me, my lord?” the Sorcerer asked.

  Flar rose. He towered over Murlox by several feet. Flar walked down from the throne, his red cape flowing behind him.

  “You are keeping secrets from me, old man,” Flar growled. “I know of your journey to the island.”

  Murlox stood. “I keep nothing from you,” he said.

  “How long has she been gone?” Flar roared. He grabbed Murlox by the throat and lifted him off the ground. Murlox dropped his staff to the ground.

  “Two days and nights,” Murlox gasped.

  “And the Book with her?” Flar snapped.

  “Yes,” Murlox answered, struggling for breath.

  Flar tossed him to the ground like a rag doll. Murlox retrieved his staff and climbed to his feet. Flar grabbed him by the back of the neck and dragged him to a window.

  “They may fear your magic,” Flar barked. “But they will always fear me more. My curse saved you from eternal darkness. My power gave you your magic. You cannot play both sides of this struggle and hope to survive.”

  “I serve only Lord Flar,” Murlox said. “My loyalties are not divided.”

  “We shall see, Sorcerer,” Flar remarked, releasing his iron grip and walking back toward the throne. “We shall see.”

  “A group of robbers were captured when they attempted to steal some horses at a roadside tavern,” Murlox said, composing himself. “They tell a rather interesting tale. I had them brought here to Castle Devon.”

  “Bring them to me,” Flar commanded. He turned and sat down on the throne and folded his arms.

  “As you wish, my lord,” Murlox said, bowing slightly.

  Murlox walked across the throne room and pushed the wooden doors open.

  “Bring them in,” he said, motioning with his hand.

  Four fire soldiers pushed the two, dirty, rugged figures into the room. Murlox led them across the throne room until they were standing before Flar.

  “On your knees, pathetic scum,” Murlox ordered. “Kneel before your master.”

  The two figures obeyed. Murlox ripped their hoods back, revealing the terrified faces of the robbers. They smelled badly with patches of sweat dotting their faces. One was old while the other was younger.

  “You are a sorry lot,” Murlox remarked. “I pray you are not wasting the Lord Flar’s time.”

  “Why are you here?” Flar roared.

  “My name is…,” the one robber began.

  “I did not ask you your name!” Flar barked. “Why are you here?”

  Murlox slapped the man on the back of his head.

  “You will answer only what is asked of you,” Murlox said.

  “We are a simple people,” the old robber whimpering continued. “We steal only so we may have goods to trade at the market.”

  “Silence!” Flar commanded. “I do not wish to hear a confession!”

  He rose from the throne and descended the stairs. Flar towered over the two men. “Why do you waste my time? You two vagrants know nothing!”

  “Perhaps for a small price, we can share all we know about our encounter on the Adonis road,” the young robber confidently said.

  Flar cocked his head and turned away. Murlox grinned.

  “And what price would you have in that little mind of yours?” Murlox asked.

  “Two hundred shillings,” the young man said. “And we will share our meeting with the mighty angel.”

  Flar turned back around, his hands glowing red.

  “I pay with fire!” Flar angrily roared. Flames shot from his outstretched hands surrounding the men in a circle of fire. They screamed in terror as smoke began to engulf them.

  “We will tell you everything!” the older man cried. “Please do not destroy us.”

  “Sorcerer,” Flar gestured. “Spare this slime.”

  Murlox raised his staff. The fire was immediately sucked into the staff and vanished. All that remained was a haze of smoke.

  “Perhaps you two bandits should try again,” Murlox said. “Lord Flar’s patience is growing thin.”

  “The girl fell from her horse,” the old robber began. “And when we were trying to wrestle this gold and silver box from her…”

  “Rainna,” Flar grimaced.

  “There was a huge gush of wind and when I looked up into the night sky, I saw this person – an angel – with wings and a sword,” the old robber continued. “He moved and fought with such skill. The angel made short work of all of us.”

  “You saw no angel,” Murlox said. “No being can cross the Great Divide.”

  “He said he came from the Kingdom,” the old robber trembled. “That he was sent by the King. He controlled the winds with his hands. And his wings.…”

  “I chased the girl,” the younger bandit interjected. “She was trying to run away with that big, gold thing. She fell and when I went to grab her, the box started to glow and came apart. There was something like paper inside. And then I was thrown across the clearing.”

  “It opened?” Flar shockingly whispered. “The Book opened?”

  “I do not know what a book is,” the bandit said.

  “Enough!” Flar roared. “We have heard enough from these fools. Send them to the labor camps!”

  The four fire soldiers entered and grabbed the two robbers by the shoulders. They pleaded for mercy as they were dragged out of the throne room. Flar said nothing until they were gone.

  “They know not what they saw,” Murlox said. “It was dark and perhaps they had taken too much drink.”

  “Princess Rainna is going to Rone,” Flar hissed. “She has taken the Book there as part of the prophecy.”

  “Rone is hardly a city. It is in ruin now,” the sorcerer remarked. “Prophecies are vague and subject to whomever may read them.”

  “Why do you protect her?” Flar growled. “Even in your youthful shadow, she will not have you.”

  “I protect no one,” Murlox replied. “In time, our feelings change.”

  “Marsonee is in this realm,” Flar said. “I should have expected the King to send him.”

  “There is no garrison in Rone,” Murlox said. “It is no longer a fortifi
ed city.”

  “Ready our fire army for battle,” Flar commanded. “We will move quickly to end this threat. You will summon the Demon from the pit. We march tonight.”

  “The Demon?” Murlox asked.

  “You have the spell,” Flar growled. “We shall show the King that his ways are no longer welcomed in this land. We march tonight. Meet me at the pit.”

  Flar walked out of the throne room, his great red cape flowing behind him.

  Chapter Six

  “Come. Come,” the old priest said, motioning with his hand. “There is little time to waste. I am Demetrius, the caretaker of the Church of Rone.”

  “Flar has banned such activities,” Rainna remarked.

  “Oh, yes,” Demetrius replied. “There have not been members here for a generation.”

  “Should we introduce ourselves?” Justin softly whispered to Marsonee.

  “No introductions are necessary,” Demetrius said, leaning over Justin’s shoulder. He skipped away.

  “Ha! I may be old but I am not deaf, my dear boy. You are Justin from Arter. This is Princess Rainna of the House of Devon. Franco, a lad who comes straight from the out country. And, of course, how could I not know Marsonee, the archangel, the King’s devoted servant.”

  “How would you know all that?” Franco demanded. “I have never met you before in my life!”

  “There is so much that is hidden from the eyes of this world,” Demetrius replied. “But when we open our minds and hearts to the words of the King, so much becomes possible. I see you have the Book in your possession.”

  “I do,” Rainna said, holding it out for the old man to see.

  “Ah,” Demetrius marveled. “How beautiful you both are together.”

  “I was instructed by the King to bring the boy to you,” Marsonee remarked.

  “Of course,” Demetrius confidently replied. “I am the protector of the ancient swords of the Holy Order. Come. I will take you to them.”

  They walked across the church and down one of the hallways. They moved cautiously, despite Demetrius urging them forward.