by Chuck Black
OR IN PERIL
Kendrick rode at full gallop through the streets of Bel Lione and all the way to the castle. He slowed only as he approached the near side of the drawbridge, where two guards stepped out and crossed their poleaxes in front of him.
“I want to see Lord Ra,” Kendrick demanded.
“He doesn’t want to see you,” one of the men replied, and they both took a more aggressive posture. “Leave at once!”
Kendrick looked closely at the misshapen faces and looming forms. These were no ordinary guards, but Shadow Warriors, servants of the Dark Knight. That in itself was proof that Lord Ra served Lucius … and confirmation that Duncan’s danger was grave.
He glanced about, wondering if there was any alternate way of gaining entrance to the castle. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he did gain access, but doing nothing simply wasn’t an option.
He looked past the warriors to the castle behind them. Seven massive stone towers stood as guardians to their lord. Within the double walls Kendrick could see towers rising even taller than those protecting its perimeter. The gatehouse complex, or barbican, was formidable in itself, with two gate towers supporting each side of the entrance. Two portcullises made of iron grating guarded the entrance, and a large wooden drawbridge spanned the moat that encircled most of the castle. “I am Sir Kendrick of—”
“We know who you are,” spat out the guard to the right. “And you are a complete fool to approach the castle of Lord Ra. He is far too powerful to be concerned with the likes of you.”
Kendrick was about to speak when he saw something flash out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see the deadly arc of the other guard’s poleax racing toward him. Kendrick instinctively pulled hard on Thunder’s reins, turning the horse toward the approaching blade. Thunder reared and turned just as the weapon finished its flight and embedded itself deep in the horse’s chest and shoulder.
The sound of parting flesh and crunching bone preceded the wounded animal’s distressing cries. Thunder’s forelimbs collapsed, and he pitched forward upon his wounded chest and shoulder. The ax was lodged so deeply in his body that it was jerked from the hands of the warrior.
In the flash of a moment, Kendrick drew his sword as his horse continued its plummet to the ground. The animal hit with a thud, and Kendrick rolled to escape the crushing weight and thrashing hooves. He rose up on one knee just in time to see the other guard executing a vertical cut toward his head. Kendrick brought a crosscut with his sword to meet the handle of the poleax, deflecting its path enough to miss him.
The guard let the ax sink deeply into the ground and left it there as he drew a grisly sword from his scabbard. The other guard had done the same. Kendrick stood between two massive, sword-wielding foes, breathing hard and listening to his horse’s final thrashes behind him. A wave of sadness shot through him, and he drew in a deep breath, deliberately setting aside his grief. There would be time later to mourn the animal who had been his faithful companion on many missions.
The right-hand guard stepped forward. “Lord Ra rules here, knave, and your blood on our swords will prove it!”
Kendrick assumed the window swordsman stance, which heralded to his enemies that he was unshaken by their taunts. No fear disturbed his thoughts, for he had something great and powerful to draw upon. “Though my blood may spill, I am not afraid of you. I have the promise of the Prince. By His name and by His power you will be defeated, for the King reigns … and His Son!”
At the mere mention of the Prince, the warriors winced, and their swords lowered slightly as though a portion of their strength left them. Then one of them yelled in defiance and advanced on Kendrick. He deflected the cut and countered quickly with his own, hoping to recover before the opposite warrior could execute an attack from behind. At the end of the maneuver he stepped quickly to the right, hoping to keep both warriors in view. How long could one man prevail against two non-Arrethtraen enemies?
He heard another yell and readied for an attack from the other warrior, then realized the cry came from the woods behind them. Another massive figure, brandishing a silver sword, emerged from the shadows of the trees and engaged one of the Shadow Warriors. Surprise and relief washed over Kendrick, for his new and unidentified ally brought new hope to the fight.
Kendrick focused on his foe as the sounds of intense and steady crashes of steel upon steel filled the night air. His opponent’s cuts were powerful, but Kendrick held his own and relied on his speed and agility to balance the fight. Not knowing who had joined him or what the other man’s skill level was, Kendrick assumed the worst and considered his ally’s appearance as merely a helpful distraction.
Kendrick deflected a horizontal cut and parried a thrust. He then countered with an intense combination that put his opponent in retreat. He landed a slice on the warrior’s left arm, which brought a yell and a curse from the lips of the Shadow Warrior. Kendrick could tell that the wound was deep and was amazed at how little it seemed to affect the warrior.
“Silent Warriors!” Kendrick heard the other warrior yell to the castle gate, but they were his last words. The blade of Kendrick’s mysterious friend found its mark, and the Shadow Warrior collapsed to the ground. Kendrick’s opponent began retreating toward the castle just as footsteps pounded on the drawbridge behind him.
“We cannot let him tell the castle I was here,” Kendrick’s large ally said and moved to engage the first Shadow Warrior.
Kendrick joined the fight and moved to one side to divert attention, but the Shadow Warrior seemed more concerned with the sword of Kendrick’s large friend. This allowed Kendrick the opportunity to execute a thrust that put the warrior down.
“Follow me,” the large fellow said.
Kendrick wasted no time as they plunged into the depths of the nearby forest, just ahead of Lord Ra’s guards. Kendrick had to work hard to stay up with the form ahead of him, who seemed to glide easily through the trees and brush despite his size. Kendrick’s mind filled with questions as he blindly followed this unusual ally. The loss of his steed also pressed back upon him, and he worried he would never find an equal.
They ran for some time before the big man stopped and motioned Kendrick to silence. They waited and listened, then continued their flight on a wooded uphill path. Finally they stopped in a small clearing. Kendrick turned to fully face his mysterious ally for the first time.
The man was as large as the guards at the castle bridge. His skin was black, and there was not a hair upon his head. His huge physique was a picture of sculpted athletic perfection, and his eyes glowed like burning coals. But though his size was daunting and his countenance fierce, Kendrick sensed he was someone to trust and not fear.
“Thank you for coming to my aid, sir.” He bowed. “May I ask your name?”
The warrior glared at him. “I heard you proclaim the King and His Son, and as a Silent Warrior I was honor-bound to come to your aid. You were foolish to approach Lord Ra’s castle alone!” His deep voice carried an unusual accent.
Kendrick had heard of the Prince’s secret force of Silent Warriors, but he had never encountered one until now. His gaze fell to the forest floor at hearing the Silent Warrior’s rebuke.
“I’m sure you are right,” he answered quietly. “But a fellow knight is in peril. Would you have reacted so differently if a fellow warrior’s life was in jeopardy?” Kendrick looked back up at the warrior.
The warrior did not reply, but his countenance softened slightly. “I am Bronwyn. Why are you here?”
“Initially to verify the origin of a Vincero Knight we’ve identified, but now …” Kendrick paused. “Now I’m here because my fellow knight went into the festival tonight to save a friend from the influences of Lord Ra.”
Bronwyn shook his head and seemed all the more perturbed. “You saw the Vincero Knight’s medallion?”
“Not I, but Duncan, my comrade. Who are these knights?”
“They are Arrethtraen men and women who belong to
a secret order of knights created by Lucius and trained to exercise his power and control over the people. They can be as ruthless as the Shadow Warriors. The one you identified—are you sure that he is from this region?”
“We believe he is. The map on his medallion bore a mark in the area around Bel Lione,” Kendrick said. “And the letters R and A were engraved on the back.”
“Then there is little hope for your friend,” the warrior said. “He is probably already dead.”
The words confirmed the fears of Kendrick’s heart, yet they hit him like a battle-ax. “Why?”
Bronwyn looked sternly at Kendrick. “Because it is nearly impossible to deceive Ra. He is shrewd, intelligent, informed, and very powerful. If this Vincero Knight you speak of is in the castle, then.” Bronwyn turned to leave without finishing his sentence.
“Surely there is something that can be done!” Kendrick cried in desperation. His mind turned back to the discovery of his murdered wife and child. At that time, everything in his being had wanted to right the wrong and he had ached to launch into action, but there had been no way to alter the tragedy. This situation was almost worse, for he didn’t know if the tragedy had yet come to pass, and his soul screamed to stop it.
Bronwyn shook his head. “Ra is too strong.”
Fury rose in Kendrick’s bosom, and he refused to accept the apparent victory of the Prince’s dark foe. He grabbed Bronwyn’s massive arm and pulled the Silent Warrior back to face him once again.
“I don’t know if my friend is dead or yet alive,” he exclaimed. “But I do know this bastion of evil Lord Ra has built cannot stand, and I will dedicate every breath of my life to destroying it. I will not rest until every last stone is torn from its walls and every one of Ra’s evil warriors is destroyed. You say that Ra is too strong, but I don’t believe it. I say the Prince is too strong—too strong to let this monster continue to tear the youth of this land from the arms of their mothers and the hearts of their fathers. Too strong to let these Vincero Knights spread like disease from Lucius’s—”
Bronwyn suddenly reached down and grabbed Kendrick’s tunic in the center of his chest. With one powerful push, the Silent Warrior slammed him up against a tree.
Kendrick nearly lost his breath and wondered at Bronwyn’s response.
Bronwyn held his grip tightly and leaned down so his face was just inches from Kendrick’s. His eyes narrowed, as though he were peering into the portals of Kendrick’s soul, transmitting something deep and personal.
Kendrick felt powerless in his grip, though his heart didn’t retreat.
“I have watched as Ra built this castle stone by stone.” Bronwyn’s voice was hushed, yet furious. “I have watched as young men and women succumbed to his deceptions and sold their souls to his ways. I have watched as the Vincero Knights were deployed to work Ra’s evil will. For many years I have watched … and waited. I have seen the weakness of Arrethtraens and waited for strength to come. You are the first Knight of the Prince I have made contact with.”
Bronwyn slowly relaxed his grip on Kendrick. “When the Prince came to Arrethtrae and died and rose again, I did not understand His ways. Only now do I begin to see, for I see His power burning within you, as it must be in so many others.”
Bronwyn released Kendrick completely and stepped back. He walked to the edge of the clearing and stared at Lord Ra’s castle, visible in the moonlight through the trees.
“My waiting seemed futile,” he murmured, “until now.”
Kendrick moved away from the tree, still slightly shaken. “How long have you known Ra?”
Bronwyn still stared toward the castle, but Kendrick could tell that he was seeing something else … something older.
“Since the beginning. His name was once Ramsey … before the rebellion … when he was my friend.” Bronwyn fell into silence, and Kendrick waited. Finally Bronwyn turned and looked at him.
“Ramsey was closer than a brother to me. Then slowly something began to change, and I didn’t realize what was happening to him until it was too late. The thought that Lucius, our own commander, would persuade the loyal warriors of the King to join him in a rebellion was inconceivable. I see it now, but then … it just didn’t seem possible. In a single night the friendship of a brother became the enmity of a foe.” Bronwyn slowly shook his head, as if he was trying to clear a bad dream.
“Have you ever tried to talk to him?” Kendrick asked. “To persuade him to come back?”
“Once, and I nearly died for it. The Ramsey who was my friend is forever gone. The minds and souls of the Silent Warriors who joined Lucius in that rebellion against the King and the Prince so long ago have become warped and twisted. Some may now understand the foolishness of their choice, but they fear Lucius’s power over them and obey him without question. Others have taken up the banner of rebellion wholeheartedly and become powerful enemies of the Prince.”
Bronwyn sighed. “Such is the case with Rams—Ra. With each passing day, I watched him become more evil and dark. My mission of observation has been difficult, for the heinous acts he has committed against the King and His people have stirred great anger within my heart. Ra must be stopped!” Bronwyn’s huge hands tightened into fists, and Kendrick felt the urge to step back and away from this powerful vessel of the King.
Kendrick eyed the castle. Its towering spires seemed so much more ominous. He marveled at how different it looked from when they first arrived. No longer did it beautify the city and the surrounding hills. He thought of Duncan within its dark and lofty walls. “Surely there is something that can be done.”
Bronwyn stared at him in silence for a moment. “Go to Morley the cooper. If there is any chance of saving your friend, he may have useful information.” Bronwyn once again turned to leave.
“That’s all?” Kendrick asked, wondering how far he could push the warrior.
Bronwyn looked over his shoulder at Kendrick. “I have lost friends in this battle, Sir Kendrick. You will too.” Bronwyn disappeared into the shadowy curtains of the forest.
THE PECULIAR MR. MORLEY
Kendrick did not wait for morning, for each passing moment could be Duncan’s last. As soon as he found his way back to town, he knocked on the cooper’s door, hoping the man would hear him from his quarters above his barrel-making shop. After numerous attempts, each one more intense than the last, Kendrick yielded to the probability that no one was home. He went to nearby shops, trying to find someone who might know if Morley was near.
“There’s no tellin’ where that crazy buffoon might be. If the lamp isn’t lit, you’ll not find ’im till tomorrow,” the shop owner across the street said crossly and then slammed the door.
Kendrick returned to the cooper’s shop and knocked once more. This time he was rewarded with the sound of an irregular pattern of footsteps. As they grew louder, the light emanating from the crack beneath the doorway brightened slightly. The creak of the bolt being loosened from its lock seemed loud in the quiet of the night, and the door opened just enough for an eye to stare out.
“What ya wantin’?” came a voice laced with irritation.
“I am Kendrick of Penwell. May I talk with you for a moment?”
The man muttered something beneath his breath, but the door opened. Kendrick stepped inside, and the man held a lamp up high to get a look at him. Kendrick could also now see Mr. Morley more clearly. He was an odd-looking fellow, well beyond middle age, with a hunched back, a long nose, and ears a little large for his thin face and frail-looking body. As he inspected Kendrick, he pursed his lips tightly together, and they protruded out nearly to the tip of his nose. Kendrick had obviously roused him from sleep, and his disgust at the intrusion was clear. As he became more alert, Morley’s eyes opened wider, and Kendrick got the sense that the man was as peculiar within as he was without.
“Mr. Morley, I have come to you because—”
“I can see in your face that you have lost one to Lord Ra … like so many before you. Others have c
ome to me, but I can offer them nothing except this: the choice was their own, and their own shall they bear.” Morley set the lamp on a nearby table and walked toward a counter near one of the walls. “Mourn not for the foolish, though they be your sons or daughters, for darkness swallows all who play in its shadows.”
Kendrick tried to ignore the feeling that this visit to Mr. Morley would be a futile exercise. “You don’t understand, sir. I have not lost a son or daughter, but a fellow Knight … of the Prince.”
Morley stopped with his back to Kendrick. He slowly turned around, shuffled back to the table, and leaned across the lamp to look deep into Kendrick’s eyes. The light of the lamp illuminated Morley’s face from below, giving Kendrick the bizarre impression that he was looking and talking to a floating head.
Morley squinted, and he pointed a gnarled finger at Kendrick’s chest. “If that is true, then I am the foolish one, for I could be killed just for speaking to you.”
Morley continued to stare at Kendrick, then smacked his lips together as though he were chewing something. “When did your friend go into the castle?”
“Just tonight, to save a boy. But I think—”
“There is nothing to be done tonight. Your only hope is that he returns to you tomorrow. I cannot help you.”
Morley picked up the lamp and headed toward the door. Kendrick followed, protesting. “But he may be dead by tomorrow!”
Morley opened the door and held the light up closely to his face. His eyes looked wild, almost as if he delighted in the thought of Duncan’s demise.
“Yes,” Morley said slowly and waited for Kendrick to leave.
Kendrick bit back an angry retort, realizing it would make little difference to this strange fellow. Why would Bronwyn waste my time by sending me here?
He walked the remaining distance to Lionsgate, where the lanterns still burned and the two women waited anxiously. He told them of the evening’s events. Then they settled in for a sleepless night.