by Brad Clark
“Know your place in this world!” Conner knew he had gone too far as soon as the words came out. He regretted the tone as much as words, but he kept his lips tight, because there was a small part of him that believed what he had said.
Her face turned a deep red and she replied with a lowered voice, “I could have you flogged for speaking to me this way.”
He looked at her for a long moment and then asked, “Why?”
“Why, what?!” she asked confused.
“Why could you have me flogged?” Conner asked.
“Because I am the princess," she snapped back. "Is that what you wanted to hear? I can’t change that. I can’t change who I am any more than you can. I will always be a princess.”
"And I will always be a peasant boy," Conner said. The anger that had filled him was leaving just as fast as it had risen up inside of him. "So I can never measure up to you."
Conner looked around at the empty chamber and wondered how long it would take him to catch up with Master Goshin. He could join him in his studies. And then he would be able to see Taran.
"It is time for me to leave," Conner said softly.
Princess Elissa shook her head. "I do not want you to go," she said.
"I’m done with what you want," Conner said. He turned and marched out of the chamber.
He did not see Elissa crumple to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
Chapter Eighteen
Marik bent down to look closely at the head. Small animals had nibbled at it and there was already a small swarm of bugs flying around the severed body part. He held his breath, trying to avoid taking in the horrible stench that emanated from it. The head was from an old man with a shaggy gray beard. The dress of the nearby body indicated that he was likely a mountain nomad, most likely Thellian. The cut was clean, either from a very sharp blade or very strong man.
The grass of the field at the base of the mountain was still covered in morning dew, making his leather boots wet and his feet cold. But it also helped him see the way the grass blades had been bent by the events that had transpired the day before. The old man had died here. A younger man, much larger, was slain about a hundred feet away, possibly as he was trying to run away. Three had arrived on foot. Someone who limped and two others. He was fortunate that one of them limped as it made for better tracks to follow. It could have been the old man, but it didn’t appear that the old man had any sort of leg injury. His only other conclusion was that it was Brace who had been the limper.
The horses had come from the trees that lined the small creek, so he followed the tracks to a spot that was well matted and torn up. The horses had been there for some time, presumably waiting for Brace and his companions. He spent a few minutes searching, but there were not any signs of who the attackers might have been. Only torn up dirt clumps and matted grass could be found.
He took the opportunity to fill up his water skin from the creek and splash some water on his face. The winter snows from the White Mountains fed the creek, making the creek free flowing and fast. It was very cold, but refreshing. While kneeling at the bank of the creek, he looked over at the other side of the creek. The ground was flat and appeared torn up as well. With a running start, he was able to leap across the expanse of water, thankful that it was but a small creek and not a wide river.
There were clear prints that lead out of a thicker grove of trees. After pushing his way through some unusually think underbrush, he found the abandoned camp. There was only the remnants of a campfire and matted grasses to show that anything had been there. He scouted the perimeter quickly, but found nothing of interest. Whoever had been here arrived from this side of the creek from the north, and then crossed the creek to kill the old man and take Brace. Either the horseman had happened upon Brace and the two dead men by chance, or they were lying in wait for them.
Marik returned to the clearing and the two dead bodies. He thought briefly about burying them, but he didn't have any time to waste. And even if he did have the time, he didn't know if he would have. They were Thellians, the enemy. For his entire life, he had hated them. He had fought them and killed them. It didn't make him feel proud, but he didn't really feel sad about it, either. But now that the king was trying to make peace, and Brace had risked his life for peace, maybe he needed to rethink what he thought of the Thellians. For a moment, he looked at the two bodies and didn't think them as Thellians, but as people. Men with fathers and mothers. Maybe children. The old man likely had grandchildren. He turned away from the bodies and towards tracks that led north, towards the army encampment. Right now, he needed to focus his energy and finding Brace. After that, he would have a lot of thinking to do.
***
“Father?” Princess Elissa said from the doorway.
King Thorndale turned at the sound of his daughter’s voice. The smile on his face faded at the sight he saw. “Elissa?”
She stepped into his chamber and the royal guard attending the doorway pulled the double doors shut behind him. She tried to smooth out the wrinkles of her gown, but it was to no avail. There was also nothing to do about the dirt stains. If she would have looked in a mirror she would have been horrified at her presentation.
Arpwin, who had been helping the king put on his armor quickly crossed the room and took the princess by the hand and led her to a couch. “Are you okay, your highness?”
She ignored his question, for her eyes were focused on her father. “Why are you wearing your armor?”
“Elissa, what is wrong?” the king asked. “You looked like you slept with the horses.”
“I am fine,” she said sharply and asked again, “Father, why are you in your armor?”
The king was silent for a moment as he pondered his answer. He glanced at Arpwin, who remained silent. He was on his own on this one. “It fits a bit tighter than the last time I wore it. I did not know that metal shrinks over time.” He smiled, but Elissa did not share in his humor.
The king did not wear the same suit of full plate armor that his knights did. His was a finely crafted breastplate that not only protected his chest and back, but had plates that covered his shoulders. It was as functional as it was ceremonial. It was highly polished and nearly flawless in its smoothness. The last time he had warn it was from the back of the army and he never had to test its effectiveness. The chain mail shirt that he wore underneath covered him from head down past his thighs. The helm was fashioned similar to his chest plate. It was carefully wrought and polished to the same shimmer. Unlike the breastplate that fit almost too snuggly, the helm fit perfectly atop his head.
He pulled off the helm and set it carefully onto a nearby table. “The men of the realm have been called to arms. The army will be raised and as soon they have gathered here at the castle, they will follow the knights northward.”
“War?” Elissa whispered.
“Yes,” the king said. “I will be leading our soldiers into battle.”
“War?” she repeated. The announcement had taken her by surprise and she was not sure how she should react.
“Yes, war, I am afraid. The king of Thell has refused my offers of peace and has committed an act of war. I cannot sit idly by while he executes my emissaries. He will pay for this transgression through his own blood.” He turned to his faithful attendant. “Arpwin, please help me out of this.”
Arpwin left Elissa’s side to help the king get out of the armor. After several minutes of struggle, the king pulled a thick robe on and settled himself in a plush chair with a goblet of sweet wine. “Lord Arrin, Lord Kor, and Lord Martin have been summed to the castle. They will govern the city while I am away.”
Elissa was still in a daze. The words were hard for her to comprehend. She had never known war or even a major conflict in her lifetime. She looked at her father and could only see the worst. “Father, you cannot go.”
“I must," the king replied. "It is my duty as king and leader of the realm. I cannot ask my knights and the men that I rule to take up arms if I
am not willing myself.”
“But you might die,” she said, her lower lip trembling.
“I am old, my dear. I might die any day. If the gods will…”
“Damn the gods!” she said fear suddenly being replaced by anger. “You cannot go to war. I cannot lose you, too!”
The king quickly jumped from his seat and took his daughter in a firm hug. “My dear,” he said, his eyes watering. “You will not lose me like you lost your mother. I will always be here for you.”
She responded by holding her father tightly, her anger going away just as quickly as it came. In its place were uncontrollable sobs.
King Thorndale held her close, until her sobs became soft whimpers. He released the hug and held her at arm’s length so he could look into her eyes. “And I have nothing to worry about, for I know that you have a courageous champion who will always be at your side.”
“I need you, father,” she said, pushing herself back into his arms. "Not some silly boy."
“I will always be here for you, but I also have a duty to the kingdom, to ensure its safety. Your champion proved himself yesterday.” He pushed Elissa away again to look back into her eyes. “Did you not see how he embarrassed those squires? It was amazing how quick he was. I never could have imagined that Master Goshin would do so much, so quickly. He is an amazing warrior.”
“Master Goshin?” she asked.
“Yes. He has been training with Master Goshin from the time he arrived at the castle. You did not know?”
She shook her head.
“That Conner is an incredible young man. Training with the squires during the day and with Master Goshin pretty much every other waking moment.” He smiled at his daughter with a twinkle in his eye. “And he seemed to spend whatever time remained with you.”
“He is a peasant,” she said harshly. “And just a boy.”
“Oh my young princess, he is a boy no more. He may yet fill out into his body. But he is strong and will do well as your protector. He is smart, too, from what Master Goshin has told me about him. He knows how to read and write, you know.”
“I did not know,” Elissa said, her eyes dropping to the floor.
“Master Goshin is teaching him. He may be no scholar, but reading and writing will do well for him in the castle.”
“He seems to no longer like the castle,” Elissa said. “Or to be my champion.”
“Unfortunately, that is no longer a choice of his,” the king said firmly. “He is duty bound to you and to me. He will give his life for you, if necessary. He will protect you to the end. That is his duty and the promise he made. And you will abide by that promise, as well. While I am on the field of battle, he will be by your side. Day and night.”
His voice softened as he continued, “You and I are all that remain of the royal family. My brothers died so long ago. And you mother. Well, she died so soon after you were born…”
“Why did you not remarry?” Elissa suddenly asked. It had been a question that she had thought to ask many times, but really never had a chance, or the guts, to ask. “I mean…if you wanted another child, a male heir…”
This time, it was the king’s eyes that watered. “Your mother was a special woman. One of a kind. Irreplaceable.” His voice cracked and faltered. He turned his head so that his daughter could not see the tears streaming down his cheeks. At times he hated himself for this, for feeling the way he did about his wife. It would have been easier if he didn’t love her so much, if he hadn’t missed her so much. If he had been willing to remarry, to have another queen, to have his heirs, then maybe he would have gotten over his grief.
The king took a deep breath to collect himself and turned back to his daughter. He looked at her, sitting in what was once the prettiest dress in the realm, but was now not much more than a tattered rag. Her hair was messy and tangled. She looked more waif than princess.
“I wish I knew her,” Elissa said.
“She was just like you," the king said, desperately trying to hold back tears. "Beautiful, loving, and kind. And strong. I was not ready to be king when your grandfather passed on. But she was there for me and helped me become who I am today. I owe everything to her. She would not have liked me going to war, either. But because the gods have put me in charge of the realm, I have to make the hard decisions. I just hope it is the right one.”
“If you have doubts, then why go to war? Have you not tried talking to the Thellian king?”
The king straightened. His initial reaction was defensive, how dare this little girl question his authority! But the thought quickly passed as he realized his daughter was no longer the little girl that he wanted her to be. She was grown up. Almost the same age that her mother was when they first met. “I have been talking to their king. King Lorraine and I have been in communication for almost a year.” He dropped his eyes to the ground because he could not bear to look into her eyes at the moment. “We had settled upon a peace treaty of sorts, and the final details were being hammered out. However, he decided to go back on the deal by killing my messenger.”
“He killed one man and you go to war?" the princess asked. "Isn’t that a bit silly?”
It was, the king agreed to himself. “Wars have been started for less,” the king said aloud. “Wars start more from personal insults that anything else. It’s not just this. This is just the last in a series of events. Lord Neffenmark has been suffering with their assaults on his land for years. He bears the brunt of their actions as he holds the northern lands.”
Elissa wrinkled her nose. “I do not like that man. He looks at me funny.”
“His family is one of the oldest in the kingdom. At one time, his family ruled most of this land that is our kingdom. That was when we were just a bunch of tribes struggling to survive. One of your ancestors, about five hundred years ago, was able to align the tribes into a cohesive government. He built the first city of Karmon and turned the wilderness into a kingdom. Neffenmark's ancestors were vital to keeping the kingdom together, but it was our own ancestor, Raven Thorndale that was given the blessing of the gods and became king. A descendant of that first Thorndale king has held the crown ever since.”
“I have not heard this history before, how come?” Princess Elissa asked.
“I did not know that history interested you," the king responded. "It’s well known. I guess I kind of assumed that you already knew it.”
“Can you tell me more?”
“Of course,” the king said with a wide smile. “What do you wish to know?”
Princess Elissa returned a smile to her father and said, “Everything. Start from the beginning.”
Chapter Nineteen
Conner woke with numbness in his arm. He rolled over and his arm flopped along a moment later. He shook it and a warm pain flooded through it. The tingling went all the way to his fingertips. He kept shaking his arm, waiting for the feeling to get back. The light that trickled through the window at the end of the hall where his chamber was located told him that he had slept in late. He jumped up in a panic and started to quickly dress. As a squire in training, he was always supposed to be up before the sun, fed and dressed and ready for the day's work.
With his shirt pulled up over his head, he suddenly realized that he was no longer a squire in training. He did not need to get up early. The second wave of panic came over him as he realized that Master Goshin would now be long gone. He finished dressing while yelling at himself for falling sleep. Maybe with a fast enough horse, he might catch him before night fell, assuming he could find his trail. He rummaged through his belongings and collected a thick wool cloak, his bow, quiver, and a handful of arrows. He had a few coins stashed away and stuffed them into a small leather purse. His next stop would be the kitchens where he would try and steal away with a loaf of bread and maybe some cheese. He would need enough to get through the day without having to stop and forage for his own food. Once he caught up with Master Goshin, they would be able to survive off the land.
With
sack in hand, he ran through the halls of the squire barracks. It didn’t surprise him that they were empty, as they should all be out training. What did surprise him was the hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle. The halls were filled with people moving quickly from one place to another. There was electricity to their actions. They all looked excited at doing their jobs, which seemed as mundane as hauling sacks and crates of this and that from one part of the castle to another. He found the kitchen to be packed full of cooks and servants busy cooking like there was to be a grand feast in the evening, but he could not remember what it could be. Fortunately for him, the busyness of the kitchens made it easy for him to grab two large loaves of bread and a handful of dried and cured meat.
What piqued his curiosity, though, was when he passed by the training field. He wanted to avoid it all together, but it would have required him to backtrack through the entire castle. Rather than spend one more minute longer in the castle, he decided to just walk past as quickly as he could and hope that no one bothered or cared to notice him. He noticed the lack of sound even before he arrived. The field was empty. Even the day after the festival, the squires were still supposed to be training. Every day. Rain or shine. They always trained. But now they weren’t.
The stables were next, and they were nearly as empty as the squire practice field. All of the knight’s horses were gone. Only a handful of the smaller horses used for messengers were left. That was okay with him, as he wanted a faster, lighter one anyway. But it concerned him that all of the war horses were gone. He was about to claim one of the smaller riding horses when he noticed the stable warden carrying an armful of hay.
“Sir Kal!” Conner called out.
The aged master of the stables had long since passed the days of swordplay and jousting. Bent from age and misuse of his body, he was one of the oldest living knights and spent his days managing the stables. It was an easy job because he had a team of servants and squires to do his bidding. He simply needed to walk around the stables telling everyone what to do. It was actually odd for the old knight to be carrying anything.