by Brad Clark
Conner turned back to the end wall and he pushed hard on it, hoping there was a door behind the wall. But it did not move. He moved his hands along the wall, searching for anything that would open a door. He found nothing. Clearly, he missed a turn or a door that would get him out. He sat back, suddenly feeling despair. He was not yet thirsty or hungry, but soon he would need food. And water. He looked back into the darkness, feeling a knot of despair in his stomach. He would have to backtrack through the entire tunnel searching for the door that he missed.
He let out a loud shout of frustration and the sounds echoed back to him from above. His heart skipped a beat as he looked up and saw a grayness far above him. He did not directly see a light, but he could see a ceiling lit by some light source. He stood tall and stretched. The ceiling was far above him, but he was sure the tunnel continued up there. He would just have to figure out a way to scale the wall. He moved his hands along the smooth stone wall and discovered that it was missing bricks spaced just far enough apart that he should be able to climb the wall.
Inch by inch, he climbed up the wall, moving his feet slowly from one hole to the next. About ten feet from the top, he could see that the vertical tunnel ended at the ceiling, but another one continued to the right. With increasing speed, he climbed until he reached the top and pulled himself into the next tunnel.
The brightness of the light hurt his eyes and he had to blink several times before his eyes adjusted. The final tunnel ended about fifty feet away from him. The only problem was that iron bars blocked the opening.
Conner crawled slowly, wondering what was on the other side of the opening. He heard noises, but could not quite figure out what they were. But as he neared the end of the tunnel, he realized that there were street sounds, something that he would hear from outside the castle, not inside. He carefully approached the opening and looked around cautiously. Another wall was directly across from him and it appeared that the tunnel opened out into an alleyway. With a firm grip, Conner grasped the iron bars, hoping that they were rusty or broken and would just give way. He shook them and the ease at which they moved surprised him. They were hinged on top and unattached on the bottom. Quickly, he pushed on the bars and slid out of the tunnel.
He stood up and looked around. He was in an alley, outside of the castle walls. At first he was confused, because he had started on the second level of the interior of the castle and had ended up climbing up some distance just to get back to the ground level. Then he realized that the tunnel must have sloped slowly down, making multiple turns back upon itself. He looked back at the grate that covered the opening. It appeared that there should have been a lock to keep it closed, but there was none. A slight smile kept across his face. So this is how she came and went without her father knowing.
Loud voices and shouting startled him into movement. He had no idea who the voices were or where they were coming from, but he had to assume that they were guardsmen looking for him. Conner turned away from the sounds and started walking quickly out of the alley.
The city was abuzz with activity even though the sun about to set. People were walking and talking as if nothing disastrous had happened. There was the casual laughter and casual conversations that would happen on any given day at any given time. The lamp lighters had made their rounds through the market, lighting the lamps that would allow merchants to continue selling their wares after the sun had fallen below the horizon. Conner walked among them, his eyes scanning down alleyways and cross streets for any signs of guardsmen marching through the streets. He kept getting sideways glances that caused him to be nervous, until he realized he was still wearing the Royal Guard tunic. But he had no sword, nor did he wear any chainmail. It was standard practice that whenever Royal Guard were on patrol in the city, they wore their armor and had a sword at their side.
A trumpet from far away blared three long blasts followed by three short blasts. Conner, along with everyone else stopped what they were doing and looked around. It was a signal that wasn’t used very often. The trumpet signaled for all the gates to be closed, something that only happened in times of war or for other extreme reasons. Like the Royal Guard looking for the king’s murderer.
Conner kept moving through the market square while everyone else stood still, looking towards the gates that were hidden behind a row of tall stone buildings. The silence in the market area was disconcerting. No one wanted to move or to break the silence. Stunned faces just looked from one person to another. Conner wanted to stop, to act like everyone else, but he knew he needed to keep moving or the Royal Guard would catch up to him. He forced himself to walk slower and hoped that he didn’t stick out as much as he felt like he did.
Just as he was about to reach the edge of the market area and disappear into a dark alley, he spotted a company of Royal Guard marching together, heading down the street towards him. They were still far away, and there were many people between them and him. Conner hoped that he was not spotted, but he wasn’t going to take any chances so he ducked quickly into the first building that he found. It was a small tavern that was empty except for a single elderly man sitting at table along a wall at the back of the main room. Conner looked around, hoping for a place to hide.
“Good evening, sir!” the old man said, standing up. He walked over and Conner realized that he wasn’t really as old as he had thought. His hair was gray and he had a scraggly beard, which made him look old. But he didn’t walk like an old man, nor did he talk like one. He wiped his hands on his thick leather apron. “Fresh out of dinner,” the man said. “But the keg of ale is still good.”
Conner moved farther into the tavern, away from the doors. He continued to scan the room, looking for a place to hide or a back way out.
“Ale, I guess,” Conner said. He didn’t care for its bitter taste, but it only made sense to try and blend in.
“Right at it,” the barkeep said. He moved behind the bar, which filled the center of the room. He poured a frothy mug of ale in a tall earthen mug and set it on the bar.
Conner, eyes still watching the door, walked up to the bar and took the mug. He took a sip and forced the strong liquid down his throat.
“Strange happenings,” the man said, watching Conner’s eyes flash from the mug of ale to the door ever few seconds. "Gates haven't been closed in years."
“It is strange,” Conner replied, hoping that no one would come through the doors. If someone did, he wasn’t sure what he would do. Maybe he should go looking for a back entrance, just in case. Or maybe the guardsmen knew about it and were going to come through both the front and the back doors at the same time. He really wished he had his swords. Without them, it felt as if he weren’t wearing any clothes. Then he had the sinking realization that he would never see his swords again. There was no chance that he would ever make it back to his barracks to get them. Somehow, he would have to find something. Even if it was a long dagger.
“You keep eying that door like you know someone is coming through,” the man said.
“No,” Conner replied quickly. He took another long drink from the mug.
Suddenly the door burst open and Conner dropped his mug and jumped back from the bar. He turned, ready to greet his attackers with his fists before they could attack him.
But it was only one man who came through the door. He was not dressed as a guardsman, nor was he carrying any swords or any other visible weapons. He was dressed simply, as a commoner might.
“Paul!” the man called out excitedly, ignoring Conner and the spilled ale on the floor.
“What is it, Havid?” Paul the barkeep asked.
“The king!” the man, Havid, said. His voice dropped to an excited whisper. “They say he has been killed!”
Paul’s face turned white and his eyes got large. He glanced at Conner. The other man then noticed Conner for the first time and became stiff. Both their eyes were looking closely at Conner’s garb. There was silence in the bar for several seconds while the noise from outside escalated.
Finally, Havid broke the silence. “Who are you?” he asked.
Conner looked from one to the other and didn’t think that either one was a threat. But that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t shout an alarm if they told him who he was or what he had done.
“Are you Royal Guard?” Havid asked.
Conner shook his head.
“You wear one of their tunics. They are looking for someone.”
“Who is?” Paul asked.
“All of them,” Havid replied.
“All of who?” Paul asked.
“All the Royal Guard,” Havid replied. “They came running out of the castle gates and are tearing through the city. Searching every dark corner. Every building.”
“I don’t want any trouble in here,” Paul said, moving out from behind the bar.
Conner could hear the shouting from the streets getting louder. It would not be long before they would come into the tavern. He had to leave. His head swiveled, looking for the back door. He took a step towards the back of the building, but Paul stood in his way. Havid was closing in as well.
“Why are you in one of their tunics?” Paul asked. “What are you running from?”
“Did you really kill the king?” Havid asked.
Paul shot the man a harsh look.
“I would not be sad if you did,” Havid added.
“Havid!” Paul shouted at the man. “You cannot say such things!”
Havid let out a low growl. “I never cared for that fat lord. He was a cheat and a scoundrel. He never should have been king. Princess Elissa would have made a fine queen without some fat lord at her side. Anyone would have been better than him.”
“What you said is treachery,” Paul whispered. “You cannot say such things. You are the head of the Merchant’s Guild! In your position, you must respect and honor your king. Saying such things is as if you did it yourself!”
“I do not care!” Havid shouted. He stepped forward and extended a hand to Conner. “Did you do it? If you did, I will shake your hand. The world is a better place without that fat lord.”
Conner gripped the hand and Havid pulled him close and patted him on the back.
“What is your name, my young, brave, man?” Havid asked.
“Conner.”
Havid, still gripping Conner’s hand stepped back and looked closely.
“As in the Princess’ Champion, Conner?” Paul asked.
A wide smile grew on Havid’s face. “How fitting that her champion would step in and do what’s right. You are now the Queen’s Champion!”
Conner shook his head, feelings of guilt swarming through his body. “I killed him. I was angry at what he had done, and I just killed him. I should not have. It was murder.”
“What did he do?” Paul asked.
“He beat her,” Conner replied, tears filling his eyes. “He hit her. I know it was not my place to step in, but I could not bear to hear what was happening to her.”
Havid guided Conner to a chair. “You must not feel guilty about what you have done. It was the right thing to do.”
Conner shook his head. “I killed him. Out of anger.”
“But you have killed before,” Havid said.
“Yes, but not like this. That was war. This wasn’t. This was murder.”
“I think they are coming close,” Paul said, glancing at the door.
“Conner, you must understand it was the right thing to do. You said he was beating her. You were defending her. You are her Champion. It was your duty.”
Conner shook his head. “No. Once she married, I was no longer her Champion.”
“Were you not her friend?” Paul interjected. “I had seen you before. Several times in the city. You walked with her to the outer streets. Places that decent folk stay away from. But she went there and you went there with her.”
“Yes,” Havid said. “We have all heard stories. The servants come to the taverns to fill their bellies and they talk. They come to the markets and they talk. They talk about the friendship of Queen Elissa and her Champion. They do not do it to spread gossip, but they did it because it was something that surprised them. A commoner like you and the Princess – the Queen – were friends. Good friends. And you were just defending your friend.”
Crashing and shouting caused them to jump to their feet.
“They are next door,” Paul said frantically. “They will be here next. You must go.”
“Where do I go?” Conner asked.
“With me,” Havid said. “I know ways in and out of the city that are not through the main gates. As the head of the Merchant Guild, there are certain secrets that I must keep. Now move. And quickly.”
***
Elissa sat against the wall behind the bed, her knees pulled tight to her chest, her head buried in her hands. The sobbing had stopped some time ago, but the tear streaks remained. Occasionally she would let a whimper escape from her lips. She ignored the activity around her. She ignored anyone who tried to talk to her or comfort her. She wanted none of it.
Someone sat down next her, but she did not move to see who it was. After some time, she finally picked up her head to see Sir Marik sitting next to her.
“Have they found him?” she asked.
“No,” Marik replied. “They have looked through the night and there is no sign of him. No one knows how he escaped or where he went.”
“What will happen?”
“If they find him? If he makes it back to the castle alive, he will be executed in public.”
Her head dropped back into her hands. But there were no more tears left.
“Are you okay?” Marik asked.
With her head still buried in her hands, she shook her head. Gently, Marik lifted her head so that he could look at her face. The blood had been cleaned up as soon as she was found, but there was no hiding the bruising. It covered the entire left side of her face. Her lower lip was split and swollen and her left eye was puffy not from crying, but from a punch.
“He deserved it,” Marik said softly. “No man should ever be allowed to do what he did. Conner should be commended, not condemned.”
“Then you must find him first,” Elissa said.
“My queen,” Marik said softly. “I cannot get involved. The Royal Guards are on a rampage. Twice their king has fallen on their watch. One in battle and now under their roof. They will not want me, or any knight, getting in their way. And after the battle with Thell, I think there are more of them than us that can wield a sword.”
“I do not understand,” Elissa said with a soft anger, “why you cannot work together.”
Marik chuckled. “That is a good question. For too long the Royal Guard and the Knights of Karmon have been at odds. We each do our own thing. I would say it is probably more of a habit than anything.”
“Maybe it is time to change that,” Elissa said. She wiped the tears from her eyes, carefully avoiding the bruise that covered half her face.
“You cannot change generations of men who only know one way.”
A wry smile crept across Elissa’s face. “Maybe it’ll take a woman to change them.”
Marik’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
The smile disappeared from her face. She took a deep breath and stood up. As soon as she did, several attendants flocked towards her, offering words of comfort and support. She harshly shooed them away. She stepped to the center of the room and all activity stopped.
Percy, who had been angrily arguing with Lord Martin cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Your Majesty,” he said with a low bow. “Your guardsmen are scouring the city for the king’s murderer. We will find him and bring him to justice.”
“You will recall your men,” Elissa said.
Percy’s eyes went wide. “Your Majesty, the king must have justice! You cannot just let it go!”
“I can,” Elissa said. “And you will.”
A new voice interrupted them. “Just because he is your…was your champion, do
es not give him reprieve of his crime.”
Everyone turned to look at the speaker, a tall man with dark hair and graying temples. He stepped forward.
“Who are you?” Elissa asked.
“Admiral Hester, Your Majesty. Commander of the fleet of Taran ships anchored just off your coast.” He spoke the Karmon language flawlessly without the hint of the typical Taran accent. “I admire your devotion towards your friends, but a crime is a crime, and it cannot go unpunished. To do so would be to invite anarchy and chaos. We must have order.”
“Yes!” Percy said. “We must have order and civility if we are to survive this atrocity!”
“Do you not see her face?” Marik shouted out. “Neffenmark beat her.”
“King Neffenmark,” Percy corrected. “You will offer our fallen liege the honor he deserves.”
“He deserved what he got,” Marik replied angrily.
Swords suddenly became unsheathed. Marik left his in his scabbard, but he did not retreat or back down. He glared back at Percy.
“Enough of this!” Elissa shouted. “Put away your swords! We are no longer fighting among ourselves.”
“Your Majesty,” Admiral Hester said. “If I may…”
“No you may not,” Elissa snapped back. “And why are you here? Someone get him out of here!”
No one moved.
Admiral Hester smiled and said, “Your Majesty. King Neffenmark had an agreement between Taran and Karmon. I am here to ensure that the treaty is carried out to the letter.”
“There is no king,” Elissa said firmly. “I am queen! I will sit upon the throne. It was my father’s and now it is mine.”
“My Queen,” Percy said softly. “You cannot. There must be a king…”
“There shall not be a king!” Elissa shouted. “I am the ruler of this land, now and for as long as I live.” She looked around the room from the guardsmen who had rushed to her side as soon as her screaming began, to the man her father trusted most, Arpwin. He stood at the back of the room, as he always did, waiting to serve. He had much wisdom to offer, but he rarely let it out. Just seeing him in the room comforted her. She would spend much time talking with him in the coming days and months. Her eyes drifted across Lord Martin, who lorded over most of the farmable land outside of the city. Their eyes locked and he showed a hint of a smile. Two other lords who had remained from Neffenmark’s coronation stood nearby. Lord Arrin and Lord Kor had large tracts of land on the far eastern edge of the kingdom. They were so far away they had little to say about the politics of the kingdom, but they still held power. The only other lord of consequence, Lord Kirwal, governor of Tyre, was not in the room. She was not sure if his absence was a good or a bad thing. If he wanted to, he could band all the lords against her and she would have to fight for her kingdom. But if he were on her side, all the lords would fall in step.