Sir Rowan and the Camerian Conquest (2 page)

All was well in Arrethtrae until the rebellion … for there came a time when the King’s first and most powerful Silent Warrior, Lucius by name, drew a third of the warriors with him in an attempt to overthrow the kingdom. A great battle raged in the Kingdom Across the Sea until finally the King’s forces prevailed. Cast out of the kingdom—and consumed with hatred and revenge—Lucius now brought his rebellion to the land of Arrethtrae, overthrowing Peyton and Dinan and bringing great turmoil to the land.

But the King did not forget His people in Arrethtrae. He established the order of the Noble Knights to protect them until the day they would be delivered from the clutches of the Dark Knight. The great city of Chessington served as a tower of promise and hope in the darkened lands of Arrethtrae.

For many years and through great adversity, the Noble Knights persevered, waiting for the King’s promised Deliverer.

Even the noblest of hearts can be corrupted, however, and long waiting can dim the brightest hope. Thus, through the years, the Noble Knights grew selfish and greedy. Worse, they forgot the very nature of their charge. For when the King sent His only Son, the Prince, to prepare His people for battle against Lucius, the Noble Knights knew Him not, nor did they heed His call to arms.

When He rebuked their selfish ways, they mocked and disregarded Him. When He began to train a force of commoners—for He was a true master of the sword—they plotted against Him. Then the Noble Knights, claiming to act in the great King’s name, captured and killed His very own Son.

What a dark day that was! Lucius and his evil minions—now known as Shadow Warriors—reveled in this apparent victory. But all was not lost. For when the hope of the kingdom seemed to vanish and the hearts of the humble despaired, the King used the power of the Life Spice to raise His Son from the dead.

This is a mysterious tale indeed, but a true one. For the Prince was seen by many before He returned to His Father across the Great Sea. And to those who loved and followed Him—myself among them—He left a promise and a charge.

Here then is the promise: that the Prince will come again to take all who believe in Him home to the Kingdom Across the Sea.

And this is the charge: that those who love Him must travel to the far reaches of the kingdom of Arrethtrae, tell all people of Him and His imminent return, and wage war against Lucius and his Shadow Warriors.

Thus we wait in expectation. And while we wait, we fight against evil and battle to save the souls of many from darkness.

We are the knights who live and die in loyal service to the King and the Prince. Though not perfect in our call to royal duty, we know the power of the Prince resonates in our swords, and the rubble of a thousand strongholds testifies to our strength of heart and soul.

There are many warriors in this land of Arrethtrae, many knights who serve many masters. But the knights of whom I write are my brothers and sisters, the Knights of the Prince.

They are mighty because they serve a mighty King and His Son.

They are … the Knights of Arrethtrae!

CAMERIA THE GREAT

In the days of the great war against Chessington, the Dark Knight nearly destroyed the King’s people. They were scattered from one end of the kingdom to the other, and though many did not believe the Prince to be the true Son of the King, the King did not forget them nor His promise to them. Those who did believe, the Knights of the Prince, were likewise spread from coast to coast. Wherever they went, they took the truth of the Prince and made brothers and sisters of enemies and strangers.

It was during these days that brave knights carried the mission of the Prince across the vast expanse of the Altica Valley to the five cities of Cameria. At first the Dark Knight paid no heed to their seemingly feeble efforts, for he deemed this region too remote from Chessington to matter. But the Camerian cities embraced the truth of the Prince and grew strong in the ways of the Code. This truth united the five great cities, and Cameria grew to be one of the most powerful regions in all the kingdom.

Many great Knights of the Prince arose in Cameria to battle against the evil one—knights whose stories deserve their own telling in another book of chronicles. Their love for the King and His Son inspired the people of this great land to reach across the vastness of the Altica Valley
and help the people of Chessington in their darkest hour. They bred horses that could endure the harsh travel required, and they flew across the valley as if on the wings of eagles. And it was they who gave battle against one of Lucius’s most formidable Vincero Knights, Sir Adophal, who had risen up to conquer much of the southern kingdom. When this vile knight had nearly destroyed all that was Chessington, when the Dark Knight was ready to proclaim himself king of all Arrethtrae, the United Cities of Cameria came to the rescue of the King’s people.

They snatched victory from the jaws of the great dragon, inspiring the dragon’s terrible wrath against Cameria and its people. But the truth of the Prince was so strong in Cameria and its Knights of the Prince so wary of the dragon that the Dark Knight could not overcome them by force. So he turned to more subtle tactics, scheming to infiltrate Cameria with thousands of Shadow Warriors and Vincero Knights and destroy the people and their great cities from within. The victory would be accomplished not by might but by deception, apathy, and entertainment.

As the years passed, the Dark Knight waited patiently for his evil scheme to take effect. Slowly, as a weed grows up beside the wheat stem, the deceptions of the Dark Knight began to choke the once-vibrant truth of the Prince from the hearts of the Camerians.

Gradually they forgot the Prince.

Then they forgot Chessington … and the Dark Knight claimed victory.

With his heart overflowing with hatred, the Dark Knight then turned his eyes once more to Chessington and resumed his war against the King’s people—a war that would rage on until the great day of the Prince’s return.

For a time, however, the Camerians delayed the evil hand of Lucius, the Dark Knight. Some might think that the tale of their conquest is a tragedy, but out of every tragedy rise heroes—heroes whose chronicles are worth telling.

This is the story of such a one … the story of Sir Rowan.

STABLE BOY

Some men are born to be poets, some to be builders, others bakers, sheriffs, and stable masters. But Rowan of Laos was born to be a swordsman, and every fiber of his body seemed to know it. His mastery of the art form was as instinctual as an eagle’s drive to soar in the seam of sky between the mountain peaks and the blue canvas above them. And though he was born in utter poverty and orphaned at an age too early to remember his parents, something deep within him always whispered that he was destined for greatness.

As a boy, Rowan watched knights duel in the tournaments of Laos, memorizing every stance and move that he and the other boys of the street could practice later with their makeshift wooden swords. By age twelve, though he’d never held a real sword, he knew every move of the great fighters—knights like Sir Tarrington, Sir Byrk, Sir Borlan, and Sir Padruth.

Rowan loved sword fighting with a mighty passion, yet his chances of ever owning a sword were slim to none. He barely managed to eat, surviving on the handouts of passersby. As he grew, he eventually found work in one of the city stables, which provided some food and a reasonably dry place to sleep. Though he yearned to be a gallant knight someday and fight in the tournaments, his poverty gave him no hope of becoming anything more than a stable boy.

It was a fine horse named Algonquin that finally gave young Rowan of Laos his chance. Rowan was tacking up the stallion on a cool spring morning when Algonquin’s owner came to collect his steed.

“He’s a fine animal, sir.” Rowan handed the reins over to a tall knight with dark brown eyes and a friendly face, then swiped a tousle of blond hair from his eyes and wiped a sleeve across his nose.

Sir Aldwyn smiled. “Thank you. Looks like you’ve taken good care of him. Here—” He pressed a coin into Rowan’s hand, then winked.

Rowan’s face lit up. “Thank you, sir.” He eyed the coin as though he’d been given the world. Then his smile slowly disappeared.