Sir Dalton and the Shadow Heart (11 page)

“This truly was it,” he whispered.

Dalton followed Mister Sejus through the ruins to a back courtyard, where the remnants of a stone walkway wound its way through an abandoned garden. Mister Sejus stopped and knelt down. He placed his hand on the stones, now nearly overgrown with moss.

Dalton knelt beside him.

“The King walked with Peyton and Dinan here,” Mister Sejus said quietly.

Dalton looked once more at the ruins and realized that this truly was the place of beginnings—the place where the King first established his perfect kingdom under the rule of Sir Peyton and Lady Dinan. He looked at the charred remains of the palace and imagined it burning as Lucius and his Shadow Warriors brought the terror of their battle to Arrethtrae. He was kneeling in the heart of the kingdom… and of the King himself

“I doubted that such a place existed.” Dalton hung his head, ashamed. “It seemed too far-fetched to be truth, and yet…”

Mister Sejus turned his head and looked at Dalton. “The Prince came to Arrethtrae because of the failure here long ago. Through Peyton’s failure, all people of Arrethtrae were doomed. Without the resounding truth of this place, this story, there is no foundation for the truth of the Prince, or even the King, for that matter.”

Mister Sejus looked deep into Dalton’s eyes. “If you don’t believe in the beginning, you can’t believe in the Prince or in his mission to rescue the people of Arrethtrae from the clutches of the Dark Knight.”

Dalton was crushed by the force of the man’s words.

“I’m such a fool. Why did I doubt so?” Dalton said, fighting back his emotions.

“It is such with so many,” Mister Sejus said sadly as he looked at the
ruins of the palace. His sadness seemed to come from deep within his heart.

Dalton put a hand on the old man’s shoulder. What had unnerved him about the man before now sparked a desire to know more.

“How do you know such things, Mister Sejus?” he asked, slowly shaking his head. “How?”

Mister Sejus looked at Dalton again. “Come back with me and work on my sword, and I shall tell you more.”

Dalton nodded. He thought about how his perception of this old hermit had changed over the past week, and with it his perception of the kingdom… of everything.

DIVIDING THE CODE

The journey to Nedehaven had proved a strain for Dalton, and he needed a few days to regain his strength. But Mister Sejus was true to his charge and helped Dalton fully recover. Dalton was now feeling nearly whole again. When Mister Sejus removed the bandage one evening, Dalton was shocked to see that there was hardly a scar to show for the steely invasion just three weeks earlier.

“It seems impossible!” Dalton exclaimed as he felt his stomach and his back at the same time.

Mister Sejus peered closely at the wound site. “Your healing is not yet complete, so you must not strain too much.”

Dalton nodded as he donned his torn and bloodstained tunic. “You are a remarkable old man.”

Mister Sejus ignored the comment. “Let’s see how your sword is coming.”

The blade was now completely polished, and it reflected the light of the nearby lamp with a spectacular sheen. The edges still needed work, and the guard and handle were clean but not polished yet. Still, Dalton was pleased, and so was Mister Sejus.

Dalton picked up the sword and moved into a hanging guard stance. It felt good in his hand. The balance was perfect.

“Set your feet here and here,” the hermit said as he tapped the floor with his toe. “And you must turn your wrist a bit more.”

Dalton furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to shoot out a barbed comment. After all, he had been trained at the haven in Salisburg and in the advanced training class at Brimwick Downs. Who was this old man to tell him anything about sword fighting? Then he realized that whenever he said such a thing in the presence of this peculiar man, he usually ended up embarrassed and humbled. So he shut his mouth, listened, and obeyed.

Over the next two hours, Mister Sejus instructed Dalton on the fine points of swordsman’s stances. Slowly Dalton’s mind opened to the fact that this old hermit was well versed in the techniques of advanced sword fighting.

When they stopped, Dalton lowered his sword and stared at Mister Sejus. He was certain this was not the same man who had nursed him back from the dead, for the man seemed twice his former self in mind, stature, and strength.

“Once again you have surprised me, Mister Sejus,” Dalton said as he laid the sword back on the workbench. “You have shown me forms that not even my instructors knew. How much more do you know?”

Mister Sejus lifted the sword and wiped it with a rag as he inspected the handle. “When you have finished polishing the handle, I can show you one or two more things,” he said with a quick grin. “Tell me, young Dalton, what directs the thoughts and actions of a Knight of the Prince such as yourself?”

“I suppose it is the training we receive from our instructors.”

“I see,” Mister Sejus said as he returned the sword to the workbench. “And what if an instructor is incompetent or misdirected himself? What then happens to his students?”

Dalton had no answer.

“Would it be safe to assume that his students might become incompetent or misdirected?”

“I suppose so,” Dalton replied, once again uncomfortable.

“Men are flawed, Dalton. What has the King given us to guard against such a thing?” Mister Sejus asked. “What
should
direct the thoughts and actions of a Knight of the Prince?”

Dalton knew this answer from his training. “The Code and the life of the Prince.”

Mister Sejus penetrated Dalton’s soul with his eyes once again. “Your words are true, but do you
believe
them, Dalton?”

Dalton wanted to say yes just to stop this dialogue, but this confounded hermit seemed to read his heart like an open book. He would take nothing short of a truthful answer.

“I was taught that the Code is an archaic document that our kingdom has outgrown—a relic from the past that is only a rough guide.” Dalton bent over, put his elbows on the workbench, and rested his fingers on the sword. “Some even said that it was not given by the King but written by the hands of mere men. Deep inside I know it is more than that, but most of the kingdom has rejected it—including many men of great learning.” Dalton turned his head and looked at his peculiar mentor. “So how does one truly know what to believe or follow?”

Mister Sejus looked on Dalton as a father would, patiently teaching a son through his years of experience.

“The Code is timeless, Dalton. It was not given to one man in secret for a particular time, but to all people openly for all time. It is not a parchment in the inner chambers of the palace of Chessington, but a living creed written on the fleshly tablets of the hearts of men and women who serve and love the King. The Prince is the personification of the Code. By Him the kingdom lives or dies. Do not let the vain teachings of wayward instructors cause you to wander from the resilient truth of the Code and the Prince! Test it, Dalton, and see if it is not true.”

Dalton looked at Mister Sejus and knew he spoke the truth. Why
had it taken him so long to see it? This is what his friend Koen believed, and it was the reason he was a knight of authority.

At the haven in Salisburg, Koen and Carliss had stood firm by the Code in spite of ridicule. Dalton had not. Now he turned away and knelt to the floor on one knee, crushed by the weight of his past compromise. He lowered his head.

“I hardly know the Code,” he said softly. “How can I live by it?”

Dalton felt the gentle hand of Mister Sejus on his shoulder.

“Honor the King with your life. Swear allegiance to Him and to Him only,” the confident voice of his mentor spoke over him. Dalton lifted his eyes and joined his voice with Mister Sejus’s in quoting the Code he had learned by heart when he first became a knight.

“Serve the King in truth, justice, and honor. Offer compassion to the weak, the destitute, the widowed, and the poor. Live for the King, and serve others without cause for personal gain. Never abandon a fellow knight in battle or in peril. Equip, train, and prepare for battle against the forces of the Dark Knight. Serve the King and faint not in the day of battle. Use not the sword to seek selfish gain, but rather to execute justice and the will of the King. Be merciful, loyal, courageous, faithful, and noble, but above all, be ye humble before the King and before men. Let your words be always spoken in truth.”

Dalton stood and turned to look at Mister Sejus. “I understand—and believe. As with Nedehaven, I now see how it is impossible to fully serve the King without the Code.”

“Yes,” Mister Sejus nodded.

“You have taught me so much.” Dalton gazed at the man as if he had just wiped the fog from a window and seen him anew. “Teach me more…
Master
Sejus.”

SIR DALTON, KNIGHT OF THE PRINCE

Dalton put aside his misconceptions of Master Sejus and freed his mind to accept the powerful teachings of his new mentor. Per Master Sejus’s instruction, Dalton meticulously polished the handle of the sword and discovered the ornate and intricate mark of the King in its pommel.

Master Sejus made a final inspection of the beautiful weapon. “Still some work to do on the edges, but it is a magnificent piece.”

“I had no idea that such a superbly crafted sword was beneath the rust and tarnish,” Dalton said.

“Even the treasures of a king are oft neglected, but it does not diminish their value.” Master Sejus handed the sword to Dalton. “It is yours now.”

“But my labor is my payment to you for your help and kindness,” Dalton protested.

“Help and kindness are not such if they are purchased,” Master Sejus said as he went to the pile of rubble at the back of his cave.

“Besides, how could one’s labor ever repay the saving of a life? Therefore they are a gift—both your life and the sword.”

“Thank you. I shall wield it with skill and not let it break as before.”

Just then Master Sejus pulled another old sword from the rubble and held it before him. “Let us make sure of that,” he said with a smile. “Follow me.”

Dalton followed Master Sejus out of the cave and into a shallow green valley not far away. They faced each other with swords ready. Dalton guarded his mind against the notion that Master Sejus would be an easy spar.

“Remember what I taught you about your stances, and we shall proceed from there.”

After just two quick engagements, Dalton quickly came to understand that Master Sejus’s words of instruction were girded up by a complete mastery of his sword. Their swords clanged in the arena of the valley, and Dalton became a student of a true master. By day’s end, Dalton hardly dared to speak, for today had revealed the silliness of his prior thoughts and words.

As they walked back to the cave, Dalton followed behind and stared at the strong shoulders of his master. He wondered how he could have ever thought this man was feeble and old. There were moments in their training earlier that Dalton saw glimpses of superiority he had never seen in the hands and movements of any other swordsman.

Dalton spent the rest of the evening in quiet contemplation. That night he lay down on the blankets on the cave floor, silently offering the cot back to his mentor.

When morning came, Dalton rose up solemn, with eyes downcast.

“What is on your mind, young knight?” Master Sejus asked as they ate breakfast.

Dalton briefly looked at Master Sejus and then down to his tin plate.

“I am sorry, Master Sejus. I have played the fool and did not know
how great a man you were.” He lifted his gaze to the penetrating blue eyes of his mentor. “Please forgive me.”

Master Sejus leaned across the table and placed a hand on Dalton’s forearm. “You saw me as you believed I was. It is not I who have changed, but you. Now set your eyes on the King and His Son, and live the Code!”

“I will. I so swear!”

Over the next three weeks, Master Sejus taught Dalton, and he was transformed into a superb swordsman and a bold knight. Each morning Dalton woke in anticipation and fell to sleep exhausted and amazed. As the strength of his body returned and increased, so did the strength of his heart as a Knight of the Prince. His respect and adoration for Master Sejus became something he could not express in words. He came to expect the unexpected from his teacher.

One morning in the valley, Master Sejus gathered a bundle of sticks and stood five paces away from Dalton.

“You have learned many important techniques for mastering the sword, Dalton, but you must learn to respond quickly to the advances of your adversary. Speed is life.” Master Sejus selected one stick from the pile at his feet. “Ready yourself.”

Dalton was confused until he saw the master throw the stick toward him. He swiped at it with his sword and missed. The stick struck his forehead with a thud. He rubbed his head with his left hand and looked quizzically at his teacher, but Master Sejus simply grabbed another stick and prepared to throw again. After three more attempts, Dalton became frustrated.

“Focus not on the stick, but on one small part of the stick. See small and aim small; then you will hit the stick.” Master Sejus reached for another one.

The stick flew toward him. He missed again, but this time his eyes captured the image of a single knot on the side of the stick as it came tumbling toward him. It was as if his mind was able to freeze the moment in time as the stick hung suspended in air.

“I saw the knot,” Dalton said, amazed that he was able to focus on such a minute detail during its motion.

“Good, now strike the knot.”

Another stick came. Dalton froze the moment and struck with his blade. It hit, and the stick was immediately deflected to his left.

Soon Dalton was successful nearly every time. As he progressed, Master Sejus threw the sticks faster. Dalton’s earlier frustration transformed into enlightenment as his speed and focus as a swordsman reached an entirely new level of expertise. Two days later, he had mastered the drill.

“Now you must learn to apply this to divergent enemies. You will not always face a single warrior, but often two or three will attack at the same time. It is the way of evil.”

Master Sejus instructed Dalton to pretend to fight an invisible warrior as the sticks were thrown. It was difficult at first, but soon Dalton was able to momentarily divert his attention to hit the sticks with hardly a break in his advance or retreat.

That evening, Master Sejus prepared some of the same delicious soup that Dalton had eaten when he first awoke in the cave weeks earlier.

“Dalton, I have shown you Nedehaven and the origins of the kingdom,” Master Sejus said, ignoring his own bowl of soup. “I have helped you see the evidence of the King in everything that surrounds us. You have come to fully believe in the Code, and you now understand the great love the King has for the people of His kingdom. I have also trained you in the art of the sword, and you have mastered it.”

“I am grateful beyond measure, master,” Dalton said as he set his spoon aside, sensing the importance of his mentor’s words.

Master Sejus paused. “All of what I have taught you is for naught if you do not understand the cornerstone of it all.”

“Cornerstone?” Dalton asked.

Master Sejus took a deep breath.

“What do most people say about the Prince?” he asked.

Dalton thought about all the comments he had heard throughout his travels with other knights as they tried to proclaim the Prince. He even remembered the conversation with the boy back at Salisburg. Dalton closed his eyes as he realized that those words had influenced and confused him at times.

“There are some who say that the Prince is not truly the King’s Son.”

“Who do they say that He was?”

Dalton opened his eyes. “Some say He was simply a great teacher… and a master of the sword, but that is all. Others say He was a raving lunatic.”

“Consider those statements about the Prince, Dalton, and know that He was neither. If He was simply a great teacher He would not have made such preposterous claims about being the King’s Son. And a raving lunatic will rarely have followers who are willing to lay down their lives for him. Furthermore, I have never found a lunatic to be a true master of the sword. No, young Dalton, the Prince was neither just a great teacher nor a lunatic. He was exactly who He said He was: the King’s only Son. And because of the King’s great love for His people, He sent His Son to Arrethtrae to live, teach, and die for them. Anyone in the kingdom who believes anything less than this is not one of His knights and will not enter into the Kingdom Across the Great Sea.”

Dalton considered Master Sejus’s words and felt the foundation of his knighthood settle upon the rock of truth. From this day forward, he knew he would never be moved from this place. It was as if the bright and shining sun had hardened the flimsy clay of his mind into a wall of commitment to the King and to His Son. Master Sejus had boldly asked
Dalton to challenge the core of his service to the Prince and then showed him the way. The doubts that had plagued him for years were wiped away.

He looked at Master Sejus and once again stood in awe at the depth, and width, and height of the wisdom of this man. He was more noble than any knight, lord, or duke he had ever seen, and yet he lived in this cave. How could such a thing be?

He nodded. “I understand, master. The Prince is the cornerstone of it all, and I am fully committed to Him.”

Master Sejus stared into Dalton’s eyes. “I believe you, for I see it in your eyes. You no longer have to be afraid of anything or anyone.”

The following morning, Dalton awoke to see Master Sejus packing his knapsack.

“Where are we off to today, master?” Dalton asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Master Sejus paused and looked at him. “Prepare yourself, young knight.”

Dalton quickly rose and ate. The stool upon which his clothes lay now also held his chain mail. His armor also lay nearby. He hadn’t worn it since the day Drox’s blade had pierced him through. Both the chain mail and the armor had been repaired.

He looked at Master Sejus. A sadness swept through him as he watched his master finish packing. Dalton quickly dressed but hesitated with the chain mail and armor.

“It is time, Dalton. You are ready,” Master Sejus said.

Dalton hung his head. His heart became heavy as he realized that this would be his final day with Master Sejus. No one had made such a dramatic impact on his life as this man had. He wondered if his newfound confidence would flee from him once out of the presence of this master swordsman.

Dalton donned his chain mail and armor, and they left the cave
together. They passed through the training valley and onto a ridge, where it seemed to Dalton that the horizon stretched on forever. He looked far to the south, where he now knew his home lay. As his thoughts turned to Lady Brynn, he felt the strong hand of Master Sejus on his shoulder.

Dalton turned and realized he was looking up into the fiery eyes of a virile, noble knight.
How could this possibly be the same feeble old man of six weeks ago?
he wondered.

“Dalton, do you see that small village just there?”

“Yes.”

“That is Lewerton. Find the stables and speak to a man named Yergillay Tell him Sejus has sent you.”

Dalton was perplexed.

“He will arrange for your travel back home,” Master Sejus said.

Dalton turned his eyes from the horizon and back to Master Sejus. “You saved my life…in more ways than one. Drox’s prison is full of men and women just like me. I want to help them.”

Master Sejus was still staring at the horizon as he slowly nodded. “Yes. Drox’s prison is a daunting one. He imprisons only the Knights of the Prince. And its strongest bars are not of iron.” He turned to look at Dalton. “Drox’s prisoners are not all like you, Dalton.”

“Why do you say that, master?”

“Because you fought to leave that place and most do not. You were seeking the truth and lost your way in the wilderness. Many lose their way in the wilderness seeking to avoid the truth. Such are some of them.”

Dalton stood there many minutes, pondering what his mentor had said. “I have so much more to learn from you, master. I don’t want to leave you.”

Master Sejus smiled. “The skills I have taught you, Dalton, will stay in
here
forever,” he said as he put a finger to Dalton’s temple. “But I will be in here forever,” he said and placed his hand on Dalton’s heart, “just as
you
will be in
here
forever,” and placed his other hand on his own heart. “Besides, there is a young lady out there who needs you.”

Dalton could not resist the urge to kneel before him, though he didn’t fully understand why. There was something beyond noble about Master Sejus, and only as Dalton’s wisdom and skill increased had he been able to see it.

“You are so much more than a collector!” Dalton said.