Knight Fall (The Champion Chronicles Book 1)

by Brad Clark

  “I will go there,” Conner suddenly announced.

  “But you are just a boy!” Gayle exclaimed, covering her mouth in astonishment. “It is not a place for you.”

  Conner laughed. Where he was now was not the place for him, but he did not share those thoughts. “I will ride my horse down the cobblestone streets, from the first city gate to the palace. And then I will make audience with the emperor, and I will meet him.”

  “The emperor meets with no mere man,” Mayfair said. “There are millions of people in the empire. All would want to see him, but hardly any will. Only the greatest of men will have audience with him.”

  “Then I will be the greatest of men,” Conner declared with a wide smile.

  This caused an outburst of laughter from everyone around them. He sat up, laughing himself. But their laughter seemed just a bit too hard. And just when their laughter was about to subside, they would look at him, and their laughter would begin anew. It didn’t take too long before he realized that they were doing more than just laughing with him, they were laughing at him.

  “I’m serious,” Conner said with some force. “I will be the greatest of men and I will go before the emperor. In fact, he will ask to see me.”

  This caused more laughter. Lauran, between fits of laughter, said, “But you are just a peasant boy. You are nothing.” And then the rest burst out into an even greater fit of laughter.

  Conner stood and proclaimed, “I am the Princess’ champion!”

  For a moment, the laughter ceased, as they observed his anger. But then one giggle led to another, and then their laughter continued. The anger didn’t just come to a slow boil, like a pot of water, but it exploded from nowhere. He picked up Mayfair by the front of his tunic, grabbing more than a handful of silk. His fingers ripped right through the thin fabric, but he had grabbed enough to hold firm. He pulled the taller, but much lighter man to his feet and tossed him like a rag doll across the lawn. Mayfair went tumbling towards the cliff. Only a small hedge kept him from falling to his death.

  Conner turned to the next man, another skinny courtier who tried to scurry away on his hands and knees. But Conner caught him, pulled him to his feet, and planted a closed first across the cheek. Screams followed. Lauran and Gayle had been closest to him and they hiked up their dresses and ran crying towards the castle. Two want-to-be heroes stood up to Conner, but they had spent their lives being primped and cared for. They did not know how to fight. One push, one punch, and they both fell and crawled away.

  The two servants had run away, calling for help. Almost immediately, two royal guards showed up, armed with short swords. The anger still burned inside of Conner and it did not abate even when he saw the armed guards running towards him. He did not think, he only acted at what he perceived to be the threat. He moved forward, unafraid that being unarmed and going into a fight with armed soldiers might not be a wise choice. Goshin had taught him well.

  Conner moved left just as the two guards approached, ensuring that he would take on only one guardsman at a time. They tried to speak to him, to calm him down, but Conner was not listening, his newly found instincts had taken over, and his anger was strong. The first guard took a fist in the face, his nose exploding in blood and mucus. He fell to the ground, dropping his sword and holding this broken nose. The second guard, attacked with his sword, not stabbing as he would normally do with the short sword, but swinging with a wide blow, the flat of the sword aimed at his head. It was not meant to kill, but only to incapacitate him. Conner, recognizing the non-lethal strike, took the blow with his left forearm, and drove his foot into the knee of the guard. The knee popped, and the guard fell.

  “Hold fast!” the shout of a familiar voice broke Conner from his anger fueled outburst. Conner stood still, but Marik shouted again, “Hold fast!”

  Then Conner turned and noticed two other royal guardsmen perched atop the castle walls, bows in hand, arrows aimed directly at him. Marik was not shouting at him, but at the guards who were about to plant arrows in his back.

  “You have some explaining to do,” Marik said angrily as he approached Conner. He looked back up at the guards, arrows still aimed at them. “Stand down, I said!” Marik shouted out at the guardsmen. Reluctantly, the guards stepped away.

  To Conner, Marik said quietly, “They itch to be more than the simple guards that they are. You are lucky that I was nearby when I saw your little outburst, or the princess would be without a champion.”

  Conner looked around at the mess that he had made. Mayfair was still on the ground, moaning. The man that he had punched was kneeling and crying with his head buried into hands. The two guards that Conner and taken out were being tended by three others that had run to their rescue. They all looked at him with a bit of anger and a much disgust. Conner moved towards the guards, to apologize, but Marik held him from moving.

  “Now is not the time,” Marik said. “You can make amends later, when they are not as angry and less likely to lash out at you.” He pulled Conner’s face to look him in the eye. “You are the princess’ champion, which means something. It is more than just an oath that you took to protect her. It is a duty to serve this kingdom. Your little temper tantrum is not acceptable. Not because of the result, but because you lost control. A warrior, a true warrior, knows when to fight. He knows how to control his emotions and not lose it. But also, because you have taken an oath to be the champion of Princess Elissa, you must comport yourself above and beyond who you were before. You are no longer a simple peasant hunter.”

  Conner shook his head. “They laughed at me. They made me mad and I…I will never be like them.”

  Marik took Conner by the shoulder and they started walking away. Mayfair’s friends had returned and were tending to him. “No one is asking you to be like them.”

  “But you said…”

  “I said you are no longer a simple peasant hunter, I did not say that you are to be like them.” He waved his hand back at the silk clad courtiers. “You are to be better than them. Especially if you are to serve Princess Elissa.”

  “I think I should get rid of these clothes,” Conner said. Somehow in the melee, a rip had formed on his sleeve. “They do not seem to hold up in combat.”

  Marik laughed and they walked in silence for some time. They walked around from the back of the castle towards the knight’s barracks. The sound of training drifted towards them.

  “How goes the training?” Marik asked.

  “Okay,” was all Conner would say. He was tired of the squire training. Goshin had allowed him to go so much further in his abilities, but he could never show off his new skills. The old sword master had made it perfectly clear that he was to never show off what he had learned. It didn’t make much sense to Conner, and he reluctantly agreed. He didn’t like it, but he went along with it.

  “How will you do at the Summer Festival?”

  “Probably not well,” Conner said. He knew that if he were able to use everything that he had learned from Goshin, he would win many prizes. But with only being able to use his left hand to fight, the yearly squire competition would be an embarrassment for him.

  “Goshin has not taught you anything?” Marik asked, a smirk spread across his fast.

  Conner turned and shared his own smirk. “He has taught me much.”

  “Then you should do well,” Marik pressed.

  Conner lifted his left hand. “If I could use more than this, then maybe.”

  “There is much benefit to learning how a knight is supposed to fight,” Marik said. They had reached the edge of the training grounds and were now watching a handful of knights, dressed in thick leather armor, training with one another.

  “If you know what your enemy is going to do next, you can anticipate his moves.”

  Conner looked over at Marik with a raised eyebrow. “How is training to fight as a knight is going to make me fight my enemies better?”

  “The fighting style used by Karmon Knights is not unique. Many warrior
s have imitated this style to some degree of success. Many warriors are trained this way, including Thellian warriors. To fight the Thellians would be like fighting your brother knights. The difference is that they are not taught quite as well, or train quite as hard.”

  “What about the Tarans? How do they fight?”

  “Tarans?” Marik repeated thoughtfully. “I am not an expert, nor have I ever seen them fight, but I have heard many tales. They fight with numbers. In battle, they will always have more soldiers than their enemies, and that is why they rarely lose. They do not fight from horseback, but from the ground. They use archers by the thousands, sending waves upon waves of arrows upon their enemies. They are well disciplined and efficient, but not necessarily highly skilled. One on one, a Karmon Knight would easily defeat a Taran Warrior. But they are also very inventive and have come up with some war machines that I can barely describe. They can hurl burning rocks from a mile away, making it easy to knock down city walls from a distance, and then charge their warriors through the broken walls. It is rare for them to face defeat.” And this caused Marik to smile.

  The smile was contagious and Conner could do nothing but smile back. “What?”

  “Their biggest defeat came some several hundred years ago. It is not remembered because it happened so long ago, but it is something that all Karmon Knights learn about.”

  “What happened?”

  “The emperor of that time wanted to stretch his realm as far as he could, and when he realized that our little kingdom was here, he decided it was ripe for the pickings. So he loaded up many ships full of his warriors and sent them across the bay. And we met them on the beaches, and turned them back. They could not offload their warriors fast enough. As soon as they landed, our horses were upon them. Wave after wave they came, until they finally gave up and went home. The next year they tried the mountains, but when they came out of the passes, only half of their soldiers had survived. Again, we slaughtered them. Our knights against their foot soldiers was too much for them. The following year, a single boat came to offer peace. Our isolation protects us some, but the skill and courage of our knights protects us even more. They are a force to be feared, and I would never want to take them on if they had the full might of their army. As much as we were successful in repelling them, we were lucky because of where our kingdom is. Mountains to the north and deep forest all around our shores make Karmon a tough place to conquer.”

  “I had no idea that the empire ever tried to invade us,” Conner said. “I had always heard about the dangers of the Thellians to the north, but never about Taran.”

  “We are insignificant in the scheme of the world. We are a tiny kingdom compared to most others. Even Thell is larger than us.”

  “Larger?”

  “There is a map on the back wall of one of the king’s chambers. Thell’s land goes far to the north and quite far to the east. Three, maybe four times our size. But much of their land is cold and desolate. Which, I think, makes them cranky and irritable, and why we have never been able to find peace with them. Taran stretches far, so far that it takes months on horseback to travel from one end to another. They are seemingly constantly at war with one nation or another. Which is why it is easy for a small kingdom like ours to go unnoticed. We have little to offer them that they don’t already have, and we have no interest in making trouble with them. So I guess, they just leave us alone.”

  They watched the knights for some time in silence. Only the sounds of the wooden practice swords and the grunts of the dueling knights filled the afternoon air. Conner watched them intently, knowing that he could beat them. They were powerful, but slow. The skills that Goshin was teaching him would allow him to so easily defeat even the best knight, as long as he could stay away from their heavy blades. He was quick, too quick for them. He watched and studied their techniques, and it did not take long for him to understand how to easily beat them.

  “You will do well at the Summer Festival,” Marik said. “It is a time for squires to show their best. I hope you do that.”

  Conner nodded, but he knew that unless things changed, he wouldn’t be able to.

  "Being a fighter or warrior is one thing," Marik said. "A knight must learn more than how to swing a blade. He must control his emotions, control his anger, lest he will become impatient and he will lose."

  Conner touched his sore side. "You saw?"

  Marik smiled. "Of course. I saw you lose your composure. Even fighting with your weaker left hand, you could have defeated that squire. But you let your emotions get the better of you. You must learn to fight with a cold, methodical bearing. Once you start to let your emotions get involved, you will fail."

  "But I will never be a knight, why should I learn to be one?"

  "The moment you stop caring about being a knight will be the moment when you reach your potential."

  "I have never wanted to be a knight," Conner said.

  "Then why do you keep bringing up the fact that you will never be one."

  "Sir Marik!" They turned to see Arpwin walking towards them. As he got closer, Arpwin asked, "A moment, if you please."

  Conner stood, but movement at the stables distracted him. Four saddled horses were being led from the knight’s stables. Two were large, dark brown war horses. The other two were smaller. One was a spotted gray mare and the other was bright white. The smaller riding horses were adorned with silk trimmings and soft blankets. Conner watched with anxiousness, suddenly feeling lonely in the cold confines of the stone castle. He had been able to explore around the perimeter of the city on occasion, but it had been some time since he had been able to ride out into the forest. And he missed it. He missed the great expanse and solitude. He was about turn towards Marik and Arpwin to learn what was being said when further movement caused his heart to stir.

  Princess Elissa emerged from the stables, dressed simply in a long pink gown, her hair tied behind her head. She had a wide smile on her face as she chatted with her good friend Melanie. Two squires, dressed in thick leather riding clothes stood to the side, waiting for the girls to mount their horses. As soon as they approached their steeds, two attendants appeared with stools to assist them in climbing atop their horses. It was then that Elissa looked over and caught Conner’s gaze.

  Conner smiled and waved, but Elissa’s smile turned to a frown. She tossed her hair back and settled herself atop her horse. Conner was too stunned to react. His confusion grew as he saw two large sacks strapped to the back of the large horses. They were going out for a ride out into the forests without him. What was going on? Elissa had promised him, not a week ago, that he would accompany her on their next ride out into the woods. He had shared with her his feelings of loneliness for the forest, and she talked of missing the woods herself.

  Marik turned towards Conner as Arpwin left. “The king has requested my presence. Knight Captain Hawkden was expected back days ago and has not been heard from. I presume to think that the king will ask me to seek him out.” Conner was still staring over at Elissa and Melanie, who were awaiting for their escorts to secure the sacks and mount their own horses. “Oh, the Princess is going for a ride.” He looked from Conner and back to the princess. She sat stiff and tall, her head held high, a serious look on her face. Conner did not hide his feelings well.

  “And her champion is not escorting her?” Marik asked quietly. Then he added with a smirk, “That is odd.”

  “I would request a horse to take for the afternoon,” Conner asked. His face contorted into anger as he watched the princess ride through the gate and into the city. His knuckles went white from squeezing his fingers into a fist.

  “If you show the same anger your felt earlier towards the princess, you will only make things worse. I will give you permission to take a horse, but only if you can let your anger go.”

  Conner let out a long sigh and relaxed his hands and let his chin drop to his chest. “I do not know what is going on. The look she gave me…it was like she hated me.”

&
nbsp; Marik laughed and slapped Conner on his back. “Boy, you are one emotional wreck! One bad look and you think she hates you? Maybe she didn’t even see you, maybe she was looking at someone else.”

  Conner shook his head, not getting Marik’s light heartedness. “No, she looked right at me, gave me a nasty look, and then looked away.”

  “Then go, my young friend, and see why the princess’ heart is black to you.” Conner turned to leave, but Marik had a firm hold on his shoulder. “She is royalty. You are not. Her fate is not with you, you must understand that.”

  “I do,” Conner lied.

  “Her love will only be for the man that will be the next king of this land. King Thorndale has but one child, and since it is not a male heir, when he passes, the kingdom will fall to the man chosen for the princess. I do wish it otherwise, but the laws of the land do not allow for the princess to gain the throne. Even a sitting queen cannot rule. Her firstborn son would rule. Or the god-chosen son of the firstborn female. King Thorndale is still healthy, despite his grey hair and wrinkled face. It would not be uncommon for him to rule for another twenty years. But nonetheless, a husband will soon be provided for her. The rule of the kingdom must be uninterrupted.” Marik paused to consider the pained look on Conner's face. He continued, “You are still her champion. That duty cannot be undone. Not by anyone. You have declared it. That gives you certain rights. One of them is to be there for her. When she needs you. Physically, emotionally. There is no law that says you cannot be friends. So be gone! Go after your good friend!”