Knight Fall (The Champion Chronicles Book 1)

by Brad Clark

  He gave Conner a slight push and Conner gave his friend one last smile before he raced towards the knight’s barracks.

  ***

  Marik approached the double oak doors that led to the king’s private counsel chamber. One of the Royal Guard, dressed in shinny chain mail armor and a deep blue surcoat, snapped to attention. His eyes were cast forward, towards the back wall. In his right hand, he gripped a long halberd, ceremonial in most ways, but its tip still sharp and deadly. With two sharp raps with the blunted steel end of his halberd, the guard announced the arrival of someone seeking audience with the king.

  Marik waited. He stood still, eyes cast forward, unwilling to look at the guard who had one of the most prestigious posts in all the kingdom. It was an enormous honor to serve the king by standing outside his chambers, as still as the night air, for hours on end. As a Karmon Knight, he would never have the opportunity. Only the best of the king’s royal guard ever got a chance to serve this post. And he would never even see the king, unless he was in dire need of assistance. The king came and went through the back entrances of the apartments. Everyone else went through the two large oaken doors. But walls were not thick. He heard just about everything that went on inside the chambers, which was one reason why only the most honorable and deserving guardsman ever manned the post. The guard at the door had the authority to deny anyone to the king’s chamber, if he felt that the man, or woman, would pose a threat to the king. But ultimately, it was the squirrelly, thin court attendant, Denlin, that controlled who actually saw the king.

  Denlin appeared between the doors as he pushed them both open at the same time. He looked young, maybe a little older than Conner. But he was much older. The problem was his short stature and his baby face. There were remnants of peach fuzz on his face, certainly nothing beard-like. His deep blue eyes looked Marik over, up and down. His head swiveled slightly, as if telling Marik that no, he could not enter.

  Marik knew he was not presentable to the king. He was not in his best tunic, not by a long shot. The old, stained tunic he wore was something that he trained in. Normally he did not care that he could be smelled from several feet away, or that last week’s soup was still stained on the front. His leggings were ripped and where they were not ripped, they were patched. His hair was not combed, nor his face shaved clean. Several days’ worth of stubble covered his dirty face.

  “I have been summoned,” Marik said firmly. His voice was strong, but it took much effort to keep his knees from shaking. From behind Denlin, Marik could see the king, standing over a table, reading a scroll. Marik had never been summoned to the king’s personal chambers. He had met him several times in the main hall or in the dining hall. They even had shared a walk in the garden some time ago. Each time his palms sweated and he feared that whatever came out of his mouth would insult the king. But now, more than his palms sweated. A bead of sweat had pooled at his neck, and was now trickling down his back. He wanted to itch, but he seemed frozen in time.

  Denlin seemed to ponder Marik’s words for a moment before he replied, “His majesty would prefer you to dress more appropriately.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Marik saw the royal guard smirk. He was a Karmon Knight, who feared nothing. Except for the king. Part of him wanted to turn and run, get away from the chamber as quickly as he could. But no man would stand in his way. The fear that had been there just a moment ago was gone. In its place was anger. As a Karmon Knight, he was bound by duty and honor to both king and kingdom. His loyalty would not be questioned, and if the king called, he came. If Marik had waited a moment longer, the guardsman might have regained his composure and would have been prepared. Ignoring all protocol and the domain of the royal guards, Marik pushed his way through the doorway. The young attendant took the brunt of Marik’s forearm across the chin, and he fell flat on his back, eyes blinking away swirling stars.

  The king looked up at the commotion and a smile came across his face. The guardsman had entered the room, chasing after Marik, trying to put the pole of his weapon in front of the knight to impede his progress. Marik, walking faster than the armored guard could move, kept pushing the halberd away.

  “Hail, Marik!” the king called out, stepping away from the table with smile. “Be gone,” the king said to the guardsman with a slight wave of his hand. “I have summoned Marik. He is welcome here.”

  The guardsman gave a stiff bow and retreated back to his post.

  “Sire?” Denlin asked, brushing invisible dust off of his silk tunic.

  “You, too,” the king said. “This conversation is for Marik’s ears alone.”

  Denlin’s neck turned red as he bowed low. “As you wish.” He spun on his heels and marched out of the room.

  “They are devoted and loyal,” the king said, watching the door close. “I shall never understand why the Knights of Karmon, so strong and powerful, cannot get along with my guards.”

  Marik had his opinion, but he kept it to himself. He had crossed one line already, a line that he probably should not have crossed, especially in the presence of the king. As he approached the king, he dropped to a knee, his eyes cast down. It seemed as if every pore in his body was leaking. He stank. He cursed himself for not bathing more frequently.

  “Stand, Sir Marik,” the king said. “You serve me well and there are times that I feel that it should be I that is bowing to you.”

  Marik’s face blushed as he stood. This king was easy to be loyal to. “I am yours, your majesty,” Marik said, almost automatically. “I have come as you asked.”

  “Indeed,” King Thorndale said, his eyes returning to a scroll. After a moment of reading, he continued, “I fear for your captain. He has been gone too long. I would like you to follow him, and see if something has happened to him.”

  “Where did he go?” Marik asked, he heart skipping a beat. He feared for Brace, too. His friend and captain had been acting so odd lately. Coming and going at strange times. Being gone for days at a time. He even missed the last formal squire introductions.

  “He did not tell you?” the king asked. “You two are close. I thought that maybe he would have shared with you.”

  “He has been very secretive lately. In fact..,” his words trailed off. Marik was afraid to speak further.

  “Go on,” the king demanded.

  Marik didn’t want to say more. He didn’t want to implicate that he was beginning to have doubts about his friend’s loyalty. After a long pause, he continued. “It seems that he has been gone on long trips lately. And he has not said much about them.”

  “Do you doubt his loyalty?” the king asked.

  Marik shook his head, trying not to show his true feelings. “No, sire. I do not.”

  King Thorndale smiled while he studied Marik’s face. Finally, he replied, “Good. Sir Brace is a good man. And I would like him found.”

  “I will do my best,” Marik said with a slight bow. “Where has he gone, so that I can begin to try and track him?”

  “North,” the king replied. “Far to the north.”

  “North?” Marik repeated, as if he hadn’t heard the king correctly the first time.

  The king nodded and said again, “North.”

  “How far north?”

  The king took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “He was to deliver a message. To Thell.”

  “Thell?” Marik practically spat out the word. “Why?”

  “A message of peace,” the king said softly. “Yes, peace. For many months now, I have been communicating with their king. We both have grown weary of the dispute between our kingdoms. The time has come for our peoples to come together and make peace. This last message was to seal a treaty that would allow our kingdoms to have that peace. But I have not heard from Sir Brace. Or even a response from Thell.”

  “You fear that something happened to Sir Brace?” Marik asked.

  “There are those who would have nothing to do with the Thellians,” the king said. "I have done my best to keep our commu
nication in secret, and I am sure that Sir Brace would not have told anyone of his mission."

  “They are barbarians and do not deserve our friendship!” Marik said sharply. Too sharply, Marik suddenly realized as soon as the words left his lips.

  The king frowned behind his gray beard. “That is the attitude that we must change. They will be our friends. We will commence trade with them. They have much more to offer us as allies instead of enemies."

  “I am sorry,” Marik said, falling to a knee, and bowing his head. “I did not mean to raise my voice to you.”

  “In time we must all learn to change what we think of our neighbors. But I know it will take a while. Your reaction will be the most common. We have been at odds with them for as long as there has been a Kingdom of Karmon.” The king paused to look over his knight, who still was on a knee. “I have had much time to think of this. To ponder the good and the bad of a treaty with Thell. You, like the rest of the kingdom have only thought of them as our enemy, so I know it will take time. It will be a slow process, learning to first understand them, and then to befriend them. But I do believe it is in our best interest to have them as our friend, rather than our enemy.”

  Marik felt horrible. He wanted to turn his head and throw up. But that would not be a knightly thing to do. He took deep breaths, trying to control the emotions that were sweeping through him. The king had revealed too much. Marik desperately wanted to just return to his forest.

  “I have told no one of my plans, other than Sir Brace and now you,” King Thorndale said. "Even the messengers that I used did not know of the plan."

  "They have hated us as much as we have hated them," Marik said. "Is it possible that their king had a change of heart? Or Sir Brace was captured?"

  "That is what I must know," King Thorndale said. "I am hopeful for peace, but I am not naive to the world. But before I act, in whichever way is appropriate, I must know what happened to Sir Brace and that message. That is why I need you to find him."

  “I will find him, your majesty,” Marik said, rising from his knee. "I do not know if we can ever have peace with Thell, but if my king says they are to be our friends, then it will be my duty for them to be my friend as well."

  The king gave him leave, and he raced out of the chambers as fast as he could, running straight to the first open window to discharge his lunch.

  ***

  King Thorndale liked the ranger, and knew that he was trustworthy. He trusted all his knights, for becoming a Karmon Knight was not only about skill in battle, but character and heart. But some knights rose to the top and were simply trusted more than others. He hadn’t wanted to share with Marik about the pending peace treaty with Thell. He simply did not want to put that on the young ranger, but Brace needed to be found. The message needed to be delivered. The peace treaty was still not secure. Thell did not trust him, nor did he really trust them. And any one thing could send the treaty tumbling down a rocky cliff.

  Once Marik had departed, and the apartment was empty, he fell into a plush, comfortable chair. It was as old chair, carved and put together by a long forgotten king. A thick, red pillow on the seat and a similar one attached to the back of the chair made it one of his more favored places to rest. And think.

  He feared for his kingdom. Times were good, and that made him wary. It had been almost thirty years since the last open conflict with Thell. His father had led the Karmon Knights into battle, and a fierce battle it was. Many hundreds dead and dying, blood covering the long summer grass, cries piercing the warm summer breeze. He wasn’t at the front of the battle, but he still fought. He killed and was almost killed himself. It was only after his father fell in battle that he was whisked away for his protection. But even without their liege lord to lead them, the tide of the battle never turned against Karmon. They were better warriors. They didn’t have the numbers, but they had the strength. They turned away the Thellians, forcing them to retreat back to their own lands. The generals leading the war let the Thellians go, not pursing them for fear of having too many more of their own dead.

  To some degree, King Thorndale regretted that, as the unfinished war only made relations worse. The Thellians never admitted defeat, but they constantly raided the border villages and even attacked the castles of the lords in the north. Karmon always retaliated in kind. A little slap for a little slap. War was too costly. Too many fathers, and brothers, and sons died. And even daughters, he thought to himself, looking at a large painting of his daughter hanging on the wall. Maybe they could have squashed the Thellians, taking their lands and their cities from them. But there was too much land and too many villages. Karmon could never take Thell by force. They had the best warriors in their knights, but there were too few of them to mount an invasion force to conquer all of Thell.

  But there was always diplomacy. He just hoped that the message would get through.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Conner wasn’t an expert horseman, but he knew how to ride fast. The city was the most treacherous part of his route, as he needed to avoid running over stray pedestrians. But the sound of the heavy hooves of the warhorse gave most everyone ample notice to get out of the way. He thought he could catch them before they reached the city gate, but they were nowhere to be found as he burst past the royal guard who manned the gates. He kicked his horse through the streets outside the gate, his eyes scanning side alleys and pathways. He could only guess where they went, so he turned his horse north, towards the most obvious place that they would ride.

  The forest to the north wasn’t quite as thick close to the city, which made it easier to ride quickly through the trees. There were many game trails and paths to follow. Streams were abundant to keep both horse and rider from getting thirsty. Game animals were plentiful for the hunters as the larger predatory animals such as wolves and bears tended to stay even farther to the north.

  Conner had guessed correctly and picked up their trail quickly. They were riding four abreast and following a wide two-track path, making it easy to track them. Without having to worry about chasing someone who didn’t want to be found, Conner gave his horse a kick to the belly and it surged forward. Its thick legs drove the animal and its rider quickly along the path. After several minutes of pushing his horse as fast as it could go, he pulled it to a stop and he listened carefully. He heard laughter coming from the trees and new they must close. He spun in his saddle, peering closely through the trees. It was their bright clothes that gave them away. With a slight nudge of the reins, he started making his way towards them.

  The girls were laughing in the saddle, sharing a joke or a funny story. Their two escorts rode a few paces behind, silently keeping watch on their charges. He didn’t want to startle them, which is what would have happened if he just rode up on them. He knew the two squires by name, but didn’t know much about them. They were a couple years older than him, and were both on the verge of taking the final tests to become knights. They sat stoically in their saddles, keeping watch to the left, right, and ahead, but they never looked back. It should have been the most obvious thing to do, to watch one’s back. But they did not. Whether it was boredom, or a false sense of security, they just kept their eyes ahead of them.

  Conner directed his mount around them on a parallel track through the woods. He didn’t try to move silently. In fact, he made some effort to make sound. But the girls were too noisy and the squires not observant enough. It was only when he pulled even to them, but still several horse lengths away, that he was noticed.

  “Hey there!” one of the squires, Hollin, called out. “Stand your ground!”

  Conner turned his mount towards them. The other squire called for the girls to stop. They also turned to see who the intruder was. Conner kept coming forward, despite Hollin calling out again for him to stop.

  Conner stopped his horse just shy of Hollin’s.

  “Are you as deaf and dumb as you are a swordsman?” Hollin growled, when he realized who it was. “I called for you to stand your ground
.”

  Conner ignored him. Elissa and Melanie had turned their horses towards him and shared a few whispered words between them. Conner didn’t know what to expect from the princess, but the hard, cold look wasn’t it. She looked straight at him, eyes sharp and full of anger.

  “Elissa,” Conner called out to her.

  Hollin drew his sword and swung his horse around to get closer to Conner. His eyes blazed with fire and his whole face had flushed red. “How dare you insult the princess!”

  The other squire, Franken, had moved his horse towards the girls, putting himself directly in Conner’s path. He didn’t draw his sword, put kept his hand on the pommel of his sheathed weapon.

  “I just want to talk to the princess,” Conner said meekly. He had left without a sword. He had a dagger stuffed in his belt, but it would do no good against the long steel that Hollin held. A bow and quiver hung from the saddle, but the bow wasn’t strung. By the time he could pull it out and ready it for use, Hollin would have cut him down. But he also knew that Hollin wouldn’t strike him. The squire was acting tough, probably trying to play it up for the two pretty girls. But nonetheless, Hollin’s sword wasn’t a wooden practice sword. It was sharp steel and if he had guessed wrong, it would be a short fight.

  Hollin glanced back at the girls, who were watching them carefully. “I don’t think she wants to talk to you,” he said. “You are not welcome here, so be gone!”

  Conner said nothing. He simply sat in his saddle, his mind spinning in place, trying to figure out what to do. In the ride from the castle, the words had flowed through his mind. But now they were gone. The great speech that he had prepared for the princess now seemed trite and silly. He had raced out here to prove that he should be her protector and champion, but in reality, it was a job any squire with a sword could do.