Sir Kendrick and the Castle of Bel Lione (2 page)

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 them for 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—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: the Prince will come again to take all who believe in Him home to the Kingdom Across the Sea.

And this is the charge: 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 which I write are my brethren, the Knights of the Prince.

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

They are … the Knights of Arrethtrae!

VEIL OF THE MIND

Through the vast realm of Arrethtrae, from the shores of the Great Sea to the Boundary Mountains, from the Wasteland of the north to the lush Chessington Valley, the winds of the kingdom flow across the brows of all people of all stature, the meek and the mighty. And behind the brows of most, even those who would otherwise be considered enlightened, hangs a veil. This veil keeps them from knowing the truth about their land … about their kingdom … about their future.

What is that truth? Simply … that they are not their own. Every day, even whilst they eat and drink and blindly toil for minuscule advances in life, a great war rages around them. It is a war between light and darkness, good and evil—a battle for their very lives—and most do not see it!

One man came to rend the veil of their minds from top to bottom and reveal truth to all who dare look beyond the comfort of ignorance. He was a man of great authority and also great sorrow, for the tearing of the veil cost Him His very life.

It was the Prince who came thus to enlighten the people of Arrethtrae. Those who dare take up His sword and follow Him awaken quickly to a world of war from which one would shudder were it not for the sustaining power of the King and His Son.

Those without the veil of the mind either shrink back or charge forth. For those who choose to move forward into the unseen fray, the stakes appear ever larger, the enemy more formidable, the cause ever more worthy. True courage lies in the heart of one who sees the monstrous form of evil before him but yields not to the fear that calls retreat.

Experience and knowledge give such understanding. Faith in the Prince gives such boldness.

As the winds wander across the regions of the kingdom, they search for those who bear the mark of the King, whose minds are not veiled in darkness, and whose hearts are strong enough to carry the fight of good to the bastions of evil. In the grasslands of Venari, within the city of Trinalda, stand two knights whom the winds linger near, waiting to discover if their story is worthy.

Come, let us join the winds of Arrethtrae and ascertain for ourselves if the saga of Sir Kendrick and Sir Duncan stirs the hearts of men, women, and children to follow the noble Prince!

A GLINT OF THE DARK

The tip of the bright silver blade split the air as it plunged toward Sir Kendrick’s chest. But the thrust was ill timed and too committed, considering the advantage Kendrick had over his opponent. Kendrick parried the thrust and countered with a crosscut that threw his opponent into retreat. This seemed to perturb the broad-shouldered young man, who unleashed a wild volley of cuts and slices. Cheers rose from the dozen or so onlookers, each of whom brandished a sword and a look of anticipation.

Kendrick found himself working hard to deflect the young knight’s clumsy but powerful blows. A slice came close to striking Kendrick’s shoulder, and he fought the urge to counter with the mastery that was available to him. He parried another cut, then held up his left hand and commanded, “Stand down!”

The young man reluctantly lowered his sword.

“You fight with energy and passion, Sir Duncan,” Kendrick told him, “but you are reckless in your attack. Be patient and rely upon the skills Sir Augustus has taught you.”

The young knight shot Kendrick a look that had little to do with
patience. “You were in retreat, sir. I find it difficult to believe you stopped our sparring to tell me that I am too aggressive.”

Kendrick stared back at the lad, trying to discern if the comment was a tease or a dare. Tense silence hung in the training arena as everyone waited for Sir Kendrick to respond.

He raised his sword before him as if to invite another fight, but then quickly turned the tip to his scabbard and sheathed it.

“You are correct, young knight. However, it is not the strength of your fight from which I retreat but rather the strength of your, ah … presence.” Kendrick put the back side of his hand to his nose as if to filter the air he had to breathe. “I wonder how long it has been since your last bath …”

Laughter erupted around them, and Kendrick quickly slapped the young knight’s shoulder as a gesture of reconciliation. The young knight stiffened, then relaxed and joined in the laughter as a burly knight approached.

“That is all for now.” Sir Augustus, the training master, waved the young knights to the other side of the arena. “Pair up and practice the moves I taught you earlier. Sir Kendrick and I have business from Chessington to discuss.”

He motioned for Kendrick to follow him across the yard, where a water bucket and ladle waited. “It is good to have you with us at the haven.”

“You’re doing well with the trainees, Gus.” Kendrick lifted the ladle of cool water to his lips.

“They’re coming along—but what a range of abilities and backgrounds!” Augustus spread his big hands wide. “All they have in common is their devotion to the Prince.”

Kendrick nodded. “It has always seemed a little backward to me—first knighting commoners and
then
training them. But then the ways of the Prince always seem contrary to the rest of the kingdom.”

“Yes … but the Prince knows what He is doing, even with these lads.”

“Are all as reckless as that one?” Kendrick nodded across the yard toward the young knight with whom he’d been sparring.

“Sir Duncan?” Augustus smiled broadly. “Nay, he’s the worst.”

“Well, you’ll have your hands full with him, that’s for sure.”

“Nay again, Kendrick. You’ll have
your
hands full with him.” The big knight was laughing now. “He’s the one you’ve come for, the one Chessington’s assigned to you.”