by Brad Clark
Conner stood like a man, waiting for Brace to say something. All the knights stood waiting for something to be said. Brace knew what this all meant, probably more so than the princess did. Certainly more than Conner did. Maybe the princess thought it was a game, or maybe she really did understand what being a Champion meant. But Conner was certainly not a Champion. Yes, he was able to help her survive the forest, keep her from the ambushers and bring her back to safety. But a Champion must stand up to any who would come against her or challenged her authority. He had a hunting bow and was a good shot. A small knife hung at his side. It was unlikely that Conner had ever even held a sword, much less swung one. A Champion would have to know the skills of the blade and be ready to defend the princess. He would go along with this game for the moment, but he knew that the king would put an end to it. This boy, for all his heart and confidence, could not possibly serve properly as her Champion.
He felt sorry for Conner because he was simply a victim in this game. He didn’t act proud to be called the Princess’ Champion. In fact, based on the way his cheeks turned red each time it was mentioned, it was likely that Conner really didn’t want the honor. But the princess asked him, and he accepted. So for at least for the time being, he was her Champion. But the king would put an end to it and then the boy would go back to his home. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to spend a night or two in the castle, but it wouldn’t be long. He’d be given a decent reward and a horse to return to his home. He’d probably even be allowed to keep the horse for his trouble. But he would be forgotten in time. The princess would move on to be courted by serious men. Men who would be able to provide her with a proper blood line, men who would be able to stand in until a male heir was able to take the crown. Conner was a commoner, and that was all that he could ever be.
“Eat quickly,” Brace said harshly. “We leave soon. The boy will take Sir Esha’s horse.”
Chapter Seven
They arrived at South Karmon well after the sun had fallen below the horizon. The northern gates were still open and a few travelers and merchants were on the lamp-lit road leading into the city. The guardsmen attending the gates simply nodded as the knights rode through. They kept their eyes open for bandits and drunken trouble-makers and did not bother to give their group of weary riders a second look.
They rode with authority through the city streets, and anyone in their way scattered quickly. They wound their way towards the castle, around which the city was built. A great wall separated the castle grounds from the rest of the city. The wall was higher than the wall that surrounded the city and was guarded more tightly. Conner could see bowmen walking the top of the wall, looking down upon the city, keeping the king safe. Not only was the wall massive in size, it was also the oldest part of the city. Having been built when the Taran Empire was still expanding with reckless abandon, the small kingdom of Karmon needed as much protection as it could muster. Those walls saved the kingdom many times, having repelled countless assaults. The last time that an invading army had assaulted the walls was so far in the past, that no one alive had ever experienced it.
Upon reaching the gate that led into the castle grounds, Brace dismounted first. He walked to the rear of the line where Conner was stretching his sore muscles. “This is where we will part company,” the Knight Captain announced with his powerful voice. “I am sure the king will have audience with you in due time.”
“Sir Hawkden,” Elissa said firmly. “He is to come with us. To meet my father.”
Brace let out a long sigh. “Yes, my lady, and he will do so. Your father is unaware of our arrival, as I wanted to be sure that we would get here without incident.” He glanced around as if he were being spied upon. “Your father will be most pleased at your sight and I believe that there will be a time for your father to meet Conner. Now is not that time. He will be put up in the barracks, fed, and when your father is ready to meet him…”
“I believe that I know my father well, and he would like to meet the man who saved me,” Elissa interrupted firmly. “He will wish to meet my Champion. Now.”
Brace looked around at his knights and was offered no advice. He felt sorry for the boy. Today, he was her special prize, a hunter from the woods who was lucky enough to help her survive the forest. Tomorrow, he would be forgotten as she went about doing … whatever it was that princess’ do.
The portcullis opened, allowing them passage into the courtyard. Their horses were taken while they walked up the cobblestone path towards the castle. Conner walked in awe, taking in the sights that he could not have imagined. The castle grounds not only included the castle itself, but a well-manicured garden of trees and bushes that were lush and green. Statues lined the courtyard. A fountain sprayed water in the center of the courtyard. The castle itself, older than any other building in the city, sat magnificently upon a small hill, overlooking it all. The crash of the ocean against the rocks below the castle could be heard, just above the din of the city.
Conner looked around, wrinkling his nose at the odd smell. It wasn’t a horrible smell, just different.
The ranger Marik was walking past and noticed the look on his face. He remembered the first time that he had come to the city and smelled that very odd smell. “It is the salt of the ocean,” Marik said to Conner. “Just on the other side of the castle is the Gulf of Taran. You hear the waves? They are crashing against the cliff that the castle sits upon. It is quite an amazing sight.” He paused for a moment, just as he was about to walk away. It struck him, just at that moment, that he was looking at himself, only about ten years younger. Maybe he could like the boy after all.
He shouldn’t have stayed, he should have kept going. Conner was a commoner, someone supposedly beneath him. But the boy did something he never would have expected. He had saved the princess. Not only did he help her escape her attackers, but he had killed three of them in the process.
“Tomorrow there will be a great feast in honor of the princess’ return,” Marik said. “At some point after the ale has flowed for many hours, and it becomes dull, I shall come find you and then we will go walk the cliffs.”
Conner looked shocked, and simply nodded his head. They followed Brace towards the great oaken doors that led into the king’s counsel chamber.
***
The king was speechless and he let his tears flow freely. He had been awoken from a restless slumber and had not taken time to prepare himself. His thin, graying hair was matted and his clothes were wrinkled and stained. It was the first time Conner had laid eyes on someone as noble and powerful as a king, and he was not really impressed. The king had not shaved in quite a while, leaving his face with a graying stubble.
Great proclamations were made, expanses of land were handed out, gold and jewels were promised. As any loyal and honorable Knight would do, Brace declined all that was given to him. Conner, looking on from the back of the hall, found the whole event slightly odd. It seemed scripted, as if everyone was supposed to behave and act in a specific way. As each proclamation of gold and lands were rejected, he thought the king would be insulted. But the king handled it graciously, as if it were expected to be declined. As word spread of the princess’ arrival, the hall became more and more packed. Conner was pushed farther and farther to the rear of the chamber until his back was pressed against tapestries hanging along the back wall.
In turn, each knight who brought the princess home was paraded in front of everyone. Cheers rose up at their names, rounds of drink were promised, and the hands of pretty maidens were offered. There was much laughter and merriment all around, but Conner felt small and alone in the back of the chamber. Everywhere were noblemen and noblewomen, people that looked like him, but where not. Dresses that Conner thought would be reserved for weddings or funerals were worn as everyday clothes by the ladies and their servants. Their hair was brushed and primped. An array of perfumes filled the room as each lady wore their favorite. The knights and nobles were clad in their long silk tunics, looking all too comfortabl
e dressed up without their swords and armor. Only Brace, Marik, and the other knights who had arrived with the princess looked out of place. And he, of course, looked most out of place of all of them.
A cheer rose up. The king had said something, but Conner had hardly heard a word that had been said for the past few minutes. Conner stretched to see what the cheering was about, but everyone else around him was stretching their own necks, trying to see. Suddenly, it became quiet, and the lords and ladies in front of him parted so that he could see directly up to the front of the room. Brace and Marik had turned towards him. Brace’s outstretched arm was directed right at him. A sudden panic swept through him as if he had done something wrong. Maybe it was Brace’s stern gaze, or the fact that everyone else in the entire hall had turned to look at him. Then King Thorndale stepped into his view, his eyes red and still teary, looked across the hall at him. The panic that had filled him overwhelmed him and he suddenly felt as if he were about to faint. But then the king smiled, and spread his arms wide, and gestured for him to come forward.
He was dirty and he knew he smelled horribly. The heat of the packed room didn’t help, nor did the panic that had nearly overcome him. The lords and ladies looked down upon him and smiled, as if a young child was being presented in front of them. Their smiles were pleasant and warm, yet still as if he were a decoration or prize and not a man.
Uncomfortably, he walked forward. Brace looked upon him still with his stern gaze. Marik actually smiled and his eyes showed honest warmth. The king was smiling at him as well, but Conner could not take his eyes off of Princess Elissa. She wore a white gown that hardly showed her as the princess, but in its simplicity, showed her utmost beauty. Her eyes were as teary as her father’s. And as Conner neared, he could see the streaks down her cheeks that those tears had made. She sniffled, un-ladylike, but her chambermaid was nowhere to be seen to correct her.
“Is this the young man who saved my princess?” The king asked in his powerful voice.
“Yes, my lord,” Brace replied. “That is Conner.”
Princess Elissa took a half step forward, as if to come to him, but a hand from her father on her shoulder held her in place.
“Come forward and present yourself,” the king said.
Conner stopped just in front of him, at the steps that led up to the platform where the king, Brace, Marik, and Princess Elissa stood. He fell to a knee, as he knew protocol was, and bowed his head.
“Arise, Conner,” the king said.
Conner stood to face the king, but his eyes could not be pulled away from the princess.
“I understand that you most of all deserve my thanks,” the king said, his eyes going from Conner to the masses behind him. “From my heart, I thank you for bringing my daughter back to me.”
Conner did not know what to say. He could only manage a weak smile.
Princess Elissa, taking advantage of the awkward silence quickly stepped forward before her father could stop her. She put both hands on his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. Conner, now felt even more awkward. They locked eyes for some time, her smile mesmerizing him so that he no longer felt awkward, no longer felt alone in a crowded room.
“Conner, forever and always, I give this to you, that you will be my Champion, to serve and protect me and the crown that I represent.” Her voice was loud and clear, so that everyone in the hall could hear.
King Thorndale had moved forward and whispered into her ear, just loud enough for Conner to hear. “Come, Elissa, we should let Conner return to his family.”
The princess snapped her head around and stepped back from his father. “Father,” she said softly. “He was the one who saved me. He is my choice to be my Champion.”
The king looked up and around, clearly not wanting to have this conversation at this time. He looked from Conner and then to Elissa, “I am not sure you understand what you are asking. A Champion is not just someone you choose because you like them.” This made Conner blush, and look away. “A Champion is called upon to fight your battles, to be your sword in duel or battle, to physically protect you because you cannot protect yourself. You have the entire Royal Guard at your disposal.”
“And they could not protect me in the forest,” Elissa retorted as silently as she could, but loud enough for those nearby to hear.
“You also have the Knights of Karmon, the greatest warriors in all of the land to protect you,” the king said loudly, loud enough for all to hear. Shouting and cheering arose.
“I trust no one with my life, but him. And yes, it is my choice,” Elissa declared loudly.
The cheering rose louder until Conner could hardly breathe. The sound was oppressive and uncomfortable. He was not used to so many people in one place, much less all of them yelling at one time.
The king looked around at his cheering and shouting people let out a heavy sigh. Wars were not won because you fought every battle, wars were won by winning those that you could win. His father had taught him that when he was young and he used that adage not only on the battlefield, but when ruling his kingdom.
He looked down upon Conner and studied him for some time. Conner could only look back, locking his eyes upon the greatest man of their kingdom. He was too afraid to look away.
“And you understand what this means," the king said. "And you accept it?”
Without thought, he replied, “Yes, your majesty, I do.”
“Then it will be so,” the king declared.
The cheering grew even louder. Most did not know what they were cheering for. They just knew they were supposed to cheer because everyone else was cheering. Nobles that were nearby patted him on the back and shook his hand. Elissa stood back, watching it all with a wide smile on her face. But it was Sir Brace Hawkden who left a lasting impression on him. He stood stoically, arms crossed, and a penetrating stare aimed right into the heart of Conner.
***
“He is but a boy,” Brace said. “And untrained in any sword skill or fighting skill.”
The king, freshly bathed and dressed in a long brown tunic trimmed with gold lace turned from the long mirror towards his Knight Captain. “I understand he killed three of the attackers.”
“Yes.”
“Then he has skill with the bow.”
“Which does not make him a warrior. Maybe a ranger, or a scout, but not a knight,” Brace countered.
“He is not being asked to take the oath of knighthood.”
“He is not of noble blood. He cannot take the oath,” Brace reminded his liege.
The king strode across the room and grabbed a golden goblet full of sweet wine. He took a long drink before returning his attention back to his Knight Captain. “She is my daughter, first and foremost. She has asked this of me, and I will do this for her.” He set the goblet back on the table and continued, “There are many affairs of the kingdom that require my attention. This is not the empire and I do not have a counsel of governors to handle affairs of the mundane. I have only but a handful of ministers to help me govern, and you to help keep the peace. So, if I can give my daughter this, keep her out of my hair until she is old enough to win a suitor, then what harm is there?”
“Sire, you have always asked me to speak freely when we were alone, so I will do so now.”
“Go on,” the king said.
Brace took a deep breath and continued, “Sire, there is great harm in it. We have certain traditions that we follow to help keep the peace, and to ensure that the best, the most worthy, are in positions of leadership. We cannot have just anyone serve as a knight. They must be of noble birth, with the right upbringing and tutelage.”
“Again, she is not asking him to be a knight," the king said with some impatience. "She is asking him to be her Champion, to fight in her stead, so to speak.”
“She does not need a Champion," Brace retorted. "No one would dare even think about fighting her. There is no need for her to have a Champion!”
Brace’s voice had raised to the point where h
e thought he might offend his liege, but instead, the king had a wide grin on his face. “Your point is well taken, and like usual, it is correct.”
“My point?” Brace asked, confused.
“The one about her needing a Champion. You are right. She does not need one, but it will occupy her time for a while.”
“But in the meantime, the boy must be trained.”
“And that will be your responsibility,” the king said.
“He cannot train with the knights, he is not a noble,” Brace said. “He would fit in better with the Royal Guard.”
The king raised an eyebrow at Brace. “And what do you think your good friend Perkins will have to say about that? I am inclined to think that maybe he would be better off being trained by your men.”
“He cannot, he is not a noble,” Brace repeated with as much emphasis as he dared.
“Am I not the king?" King Thorndale said with a raised voice. "I do believe that not only can I make the rules, but I can break them.”
“And to do so would undermine my authority and the authority of all my men. There are reasons that only nobles can be Knights. Our ancestry is pure and not diluted by the common. We are stronger, smarter. Better in just about every way. A common man will just not make a good Knight. It would be a waste of time to have him go through the process. Especially to begin at his age.”