Sir Kendrick and the Castle of Bel Lione (10 page)

He ran until his chest hurt and his legs began to feel weak. With each stride, Lord Ra’s castle loomed larger before him, an ominous fortress of towering spires that warned the wary and beckoned the foolish.

Numerous groups of young people shared the castle road with Duncan. He questioned them all about Ancel until he got an answer. Ancel had entered the castle with two other boys over an hour ago.

“Foolish boy!” Duncan muttered. Then he shook his head, realizing he sounded just like Kendrick.

Duncan took a moment to recover from his run and consider his options. Then he walked a short distance into the thick trees that bordered Lure Road to the left and found a place to hide his sword. He hesitated before loosing his hand from the hilt, feeling he was abandoning
his protection and his reason at the same time, but the urgency of the moment forced him onward.

For once in his life, Duncan was grateful for his youthful features. He mussed his curly hair, put on a naive grin, and joined a group of boys heading for the castle gates. Duncan stuck to the middle of the pack as they passed two armed warriors standing guard at the near side of the drawbridge, then two more guarding the massive castle gate. Duncan held his breath but managed to pass into the castle’s spacious inner yard without being apprehended. He stood with heart pounding, knowing Kendrick would be furious with his decision, no matter the outcome. But surely the immediate danger to Ancel outweighed his commitment to Kendrick to exercise caution.

Duncan scanned the castle yard, where thousands of youth milled about. Hundreds of torches lined the castle walls, illuminating bright banners. Several consorts of musicians played for clusters of dancing youth, and dozens of banquet-sized tables overflowed with meats, wine, and fruit. Cheers rose from a fenced-off arena just ahead, where groups of young people competed in some sort of sporting event. In the shadows, others paired off to flirt with each other.

The gala celebration was like no other that Duncan had ever seen. He was momentarily dazzled by the opulence of it all … and surprised by the powerful pull upon his heart to join in and indulge himself. Then he looked to the far side of the castle and was immediately shaken from the lure of the castle’s torrid temptations.

A gallery surrounded the exterior of the great hall, overlooking the castle yard and games arena. A lone figure stood there, peering intently down upon the festivities. Duncan was too far away to see the man’s face, but he seemed to watch the festival with a predator’s pleasure. Duncan’s mind was awakened to something great and evil happening that was masked by the delectable food and enticing music.

“Duncan!”

He turned to his left and saw Ancel pushing through the crowd toward him.

“Duncan, what are you—?”

Duncan grabbed the boy before he could say more and pulled him into a congested area far from the gate guards.

“Are you all right?” Duncan asked Ancel, trying not to sound too angry.

“I’m fine, but I want to get out of here.” Ancel glanced toward the sports arena. Duncan thought he looked like a frightened pup.

“This place is—”

“I know,” Duncan said. “Follow me.”

The two walked to the gate, and Duncan held his head a little straighter as he approached. The two guards stepped in front of them, halting their exit.

“No one is allowed to leave until morning!” one of the guards said sternly.

Duncan considered making a run for it, but with the two massive warriors guarding the end of the drawbridge, he knew that their flight would be short.

“My friend’s not feeling well,” Duncan said. “I need to take him home.”

Ancel put his hand to his stomach and winced.

“I’ll take him to the infirmary.” The guard grabbed Ancel’s shoulder.

“No!” Duncan pulled the guard’s hand away. “I’ll take care of him.” He put an arm around Ancel and led him away from the guards, feeling suspicious stares on them as they went.

They had gone but a few paces when they heard the thunder of a horse’s hooves on the wooden planks of the drawbridge. Duncan turned to see the guards stiffen to attention as a mighty knight in armor rode through the gates. An azure cape hung from his shoulders and draped about the haunches of his steed.

“Where is Lord Ra?” the knight demanded as he reined in his horse. A guard pointed to the gallery across the yard. The knight raised his visor, peered toward the gallery, then looked down at the participants of the festival. Duncan realized the man’s identity only when their eyes met in a frozen gaze.

Duncan broke eye contact and whisked Ancel through the crowd, hoping to lose themselves as quickly as possible. His heart pounded, and he could not help feeling that the walls of the castle were beginning to collapse on them. The spacious castle yard now felt like a small stone cell with nowhere to run.

“We must separate, and you must mingle with the others until morning,” Duncan told Ancel urgently.

“But I want to stay with you.”

“No!” Duncan grabbed Ancel’s shoulder. “It isn’t safe for you to be near me. Get out of here at first light. Do you understand?”

“Yes … but what’s wrong?”

Duncan ignored the question and hurried away to hide among the frolicking bodies. He kept moving and stayed in the shadows as much as possible, hoping that morning would come quicker than calamity. But soon he spotted two large warriors moving youth aside to make their way to him. He instinctively reached for his sword, but his empty belt was a stark reminder of what he now knew to be a foolish decision. He had nowhere to run, no way to defend himself, and no one to help him.

The two warriors approached with scowls on their scarred faces. Each grabbed one of his upper arms, their powerful fingers nearly piercing his skin. None of the revelers seemed to notice as the warriors dragged Duncan across the castle yard into a chamber on the southeast side of the castle.

Once Duncan was inside and the door closed, the warriors slammed him up against the gray stones of the wall. One of them drew a long dagger and held it to his throat. Duncan tried to swallow against the steel of the blade, but could not do it without cutting his throat. A fear he
had never known welled up within him as he looked into the warrior’s vicious eyes.

“Lord Ra will want to see him
before
he is unable to speak.” The voice came from a darkened corner of the room. Sir Casimir stepped forward and into the light.

The warrior holding the dagger snarled and looked at Casimir, then back at Duncan.

“Tell Lord Ra we have him,” Casimir said. The other warrior left.

Casimir approached Duncan. He slowly shook his head and said with a wry smile, “You will die here, foolish knight.”

The warrior pressed the dagger further against Duncan’s skin and began to chuckle in anticipation. Duncan tried to turn his head away, but he could press no further into the stone wall. He began to gasp for each breath as the reality of his impending demise bore down on him. The distorted face of the warrior before him left no shred of hope beyond that of a quick death.

The door to the hall opened, and a dark figure entered. Even from across the room, Duncan could feel the evil power it emanated.

Casimir bowed low as Lord Ra strode past him toward Duncan, his black cape snapping behind him. He was outfitted in partial armor that was dark gray with red etchings. Duncan sank deeper into despair as he recognized the image engraved on Ra’s breastplate—the same dragon he had seen on the Vincero medallion. Ra stepped nearer, and Duncan gazed into darkened eyes that made him tremble.

“Gorrock, that’s no way to treat a guest.” Lord Ra’s deep voice reverberated through the chamber.

“Forgive me, my lord.” The warrior pulled the dagger away from Duncan’s throat and stepped aside.

Duncan slumped, his hand about his throat as he took his first deep breath in a long time. Ra reached for Duncan’s shoulder and straightened him to an upright position. Then he lifted Duncan’s chin slightly, inspecting him as one would a horse before making a purchase.

Duncan willed himself to look back—or up, for Lord Ra was as tall as his guards and perhaps even a bit broader. Glossy black hair hung down to just above his shoulders and only partially hid a deep scar that ran diagonally from above his left eye to his cheek. There was no question in Duncan’s mind that Ra was a lofty and dark power in Lucius’s evil regime.

“So this is one of His followers.” Ra smirked. “He looks as puny as the rest of them.” Ra looked over at Casimir. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” Casimir responded.

Without looking back, Ra moved an enormous hand to Duncan’s throat and slowly began to squeeze. Panic washed over Duncan, followed by an uncanny sense of calm. From somewhere came the realization that Ra and his minions feared only one thing … the power of the Prince. And he belonged to the Prince.

“I am a Knight of the—” Duncan began, but Ra’s grip tightened and stopped his words.

“There is no Prince here, knave!” Ra’s face was a grotesque contortion of evil. “I rule this region, and Lucius rules this kingdom. The feeble efforts of the Prince through His pitiful knights will only make us stronger, and He will one day bow before
us
in humiliation!”

Duncan strained against Ra’s grip with both hands but could not break his hold. Ra leaned closer, fixing Duncan with a glare of hate and loathing. Then he released his grip and threw Duncan to the floor.

Gasping, Duncan raised himself up to one knee. “I will … tell you nothing,” he managed to say.

Ra sneered. “Don’t be so naive as to think you know something I don’t. No, the torture you will endure is for one purpose only—our pleasure! Gorrock, take your time killing him … but
do
kill him!”

Duncan heard the guttural laugh of evil and glimpsed a movement from the corner of his eye just before a rivet-lined boot struck his face. The force knocked him onto his back, and he felt something pop in his neck.

The two warriors grabbed him and dragged him into a back chamber, then down a staircase that led into the depths of the castle. The putrid smell of death permeated his nostrils as he stumbled through musty corridors, pulled along by merciless escorts who reveled in the anticipation of his abuse.

I am so afraid, my Prince … Please help me.
Duncan called out with his mind to the only One who could possibly reach into such a place of despair and hear his plea.

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.