Sir Kendrick and the Castle of Bel Lione (24 page)

Kendrick walked over to the assembly of guards and ordinary knights in the games arena. They had all been disarmed and forced to sit on the ground, guarded by eighty Knights of the Prince.

Kendrick slowly paced back and forth in front of them, looking down into the eyes of men and women who had served Ra faithfully. Some defied his gaze, and others turned away. It was obvious they all feared him, for he had defeated the mighty Lord Ra in a sword fight.

Kendrick drew his sword, and every captive man and woman there turned their eyes to him.

“We do not take prisoners!” he shouted.

Now even his own knights stood in silence. Duncan and Winston looked at Kendrick with great concern on their faces. A few of the captives cringed.

Kendrick thought of the men and women who had been tormented, imprisoned, and killed in this dreadful place, and his countenance showed his great anger. He pointed to the Shadow Warriors’ guardhouse with his sword. “Who among you have entered that guardhouse?” he demanded.

Silence was his only reply until one knight finally spoke.

“It is not allowed,” he said.

“Then who among you knows what lies beneath this great castle of
pleasures and indulgences?” He gazed from face to face, looking for someone to answer, but no one did … or dared.

He pointed his sword at the knight who had spoken last. “You. What lies beneath?”

The knight looked at his fellow captives for a response of some sort and then looked back to Kendrick. “It is said to be an abandoned dungeon from the foundation of an older castle.”

Kendrick stepped over other captives to reach the speaker. He held his sword as if to strike the man down. “Is that what you believe?”

The knight winced. “I don’t know what to believe,” he said quietly.

“Is that what you all believe?” Kendrick shouted to all of the captives. Fury was in his heart and in his tone. He walked back to the front of the captives.

“Let me tell you the truth of Ra’s castle.” He pointed once again to the Shadow Warriors’ guardhouse. “Beneath that guardhouse is an entrance to a dungeon that holds hundreds, perhaps thousands, of your fellow countrymen. You have not been protecting the freedom of the region’s youth. You have been protecting Ra and his plots to imprison and destroy them!”

There was a stir among the captives. Some looked shocked, some appeared rooted in disbelief.

Kendrick grasped his sword by the blade near the hilt and turned it to show the captives the insignia of the King. “We do not take prisoners,” he repeated. “We set them free! We are going into the dungeon to release Ra’s prisoners. We have taken your weapons from you, and you are free to leave. But countless men and women will soon be coming up from Ra’s dungeons. They will need food, water, and care. If Ra has not blackened your heart completely, then I implore you to stay and help us reverse this horrid legacy by ministering to his victims.”

Kendrick sheathed his sword and stood quietly before the sea of stunned faces.

“The choice is yours,” Kendrick finally said and motioned for his
men to dismiss the group. “Winston, take those who choose to stay along with sixty of our knights to the storehouse. Prepare food, water, and any other supplies you think we might need. Set up a second infirmary in the great hall.” He looked to the massive walls and towers of the castle once again. “This castle will now be a place of healing.”

“Yes sir,” Winston replied and set out to do his duty.

“Duncan, put thirty knights to guard the castle, and bring the rest that are able to the guardhouse. I’ll meet you there in just a moment.”

Duncan saluted and began giving orders.

Kendrick crossed the yard to the guardhouse and descended the stairwell to the dungeon. On the first level he found a small room that held the keys to the cells. He descended to the second level and navigated his way back through the labyrinth of tunnels lined with cells toward the secret passageway. The sound of his boots echoing through the hall was interrupted only by the moans of the prisoners.

One man reached for him through his cell bars. “I have seen you before … you are not one of them! What is happening? Where are the guards?”

Kendrick paused, hearing the hesitant plea of hope in his voice. “Be patient, sir,” he told him gently. “We have come to set you free.”

The man’s arm slowly fell. “Truly?”

“Truly! But there are so many. You must be patient.”

The man sank to the floor and clung to the bars despondently, as if unable to believe. Kendrick proceeded down the corridor, but by the time he reached the next turn, the man was laughing and crying and shouting behind him. “Thank you, good sir … thank you!”

Kendrick continued until he came to the cell whose occupant’s face and voice had not left his mind since he met her. At first the cell looked empty, and his heart sank. Had she survived six years in this torment only to die just before he came to free her?

Please—no
, he pleaded.

“Teara?” he called, but there was no reply. The shadows were black
near the back of the cell. He sorted through the keys until he found one that fit. The clank of its opening echoed off the stone walls, and the hinges creaked so loudly that Kendrick wondered if the door had ever been opened.

Kendrick walked to the dark corner of the cell and knelt down. He put his hand to the floor and felt the form of a frail bony body. He could not tell if she was yet alive. Her back was to him.

“Teara!” he whispered, and put his arms beneath her. He carefully rolled her into his arms and carried her to the front of the cell where he could see her face.

Very slowly, her eyelids lifted—and then opened wide.

“You … you … came back for me.”

Kendrick smiled, and his own eyes welled up. “Yes, Teara. I came back for you.”

She put her thin arms around his neck, leaned into his chest, and began to sob. Kendrick carried her out of the cell and began his walk back to the stairwell. Other prisoners reached out, and their pleas for help multiplied with each cell he passed.

“We’re coming back for you … all of you!” he shouted as he held Teara close.

Kendrick carried Teara up to the guardhouse and into the castle yard. Everyone in the castle became silent as the reality of their purpose as Knights of the Prince materialized in that moment. The cheers started high on the walls and soon filled the whole castle. Teara looked up in wonder at the other knights and then to Kendrick.

“You have saved me.” She looked at him as though he were a grand hero.

“Not I, Teara. The Prince has saved you, just as He saved me from my prison.”

She smiled and leaned back into his chest. Kendrick turned to his young protégé.

“Sir Duncan, set them all free!”

Duncan’s familiar grin spread wide. “Yes sir!”

Word of the battle had spread quickly to the citizens of Bel Lione and the surrounding region. When the sounds of clashing swords and dying men ended, they came; they all came. Soon thousands of people lined the road, drawbridge, and courtyards of the castle, holding up lamps and torches in the winter darkness.

At first the people seemed merely curious or confused. But once the tear-filled reunions between siblings, parents, and friends began, the frenzied search for loved ones also began. Many of the knights became occupied with keeping order both inside and outside the castle. And though joy often prevailed, deep sorrow pierced the heart of many, for not all who had lost a son, daughter, brother, or sister were rewarded. Some had not survived.

Kendrick was standing in the middle of the castle yard, overcome by the sheer responsibility of it all, when an excited, urgent—and familiar—voice came to him.

“Sir Kendrick! Sir Kendrick!” He turned to see Frayne making his way toward him through the crowd. He finally reached Kendrick and grabbed his forearm.

“I was right?” he asked with hope in his eyes.

Kendrick placed a hand on top of Frayne’s. “Yes, my friend. You were right.”

“My son?” Frayne pleaded.

“I don’t know, Frayne. They are still coming out. There are so many.”

Frayne hardly knew what to do. “Where do I look?” he asked in a trembling voice. Kendrick’s heart broke for him.

“Come with me. I will help you.” Kendrick turned him toward the guardhouse.

“Father!” a weak shout came from their right.

Frayne turned to look. “Hamlin!”

A shivering young man limped over to him, and Frayne wept as he embraced him. After a time he stepped back and put his hands to his son’s head as if to convince himself he was not an apparition, then hugged him tightly again.

“My son … my son!” Frayne cried over and over.

Kendrick’s heart was comforted. He left Frayne to be with his son and walked toward the great hall to look over the impromptu infirmary. Duncan fell in step beside him, looking tired but pleased. “A marvelous thing was done here today,” he said.

“Yes.” Kendrick draped an arm over Duncan’s shoulder. “You did well, young knight—very well.”

Duncan looked to the ground and smiled even bigger.

A commotion sounded behind them, and Frayne’s voice came through the crowd again.

“There he is!” The tailor was shouting and pointing to Kendrick. “There is the one who has set them free!”

Many of the citizens began to cheer.

“No, Frayne.” Kendrick shook his head, but Frayne walked over to him, still clutching the arm of his son.

“Speak to them, Sir Kendrick. They want to know what happened.” Frayne insisted. Many nearby shouted in agreement.

Kendrick held up his hands and shook his head, but Duncan put his hand on his shoulder.

“Speak to them, Kendrick,” Duncan said.

“I am just a knight, not an orator,” Kendrick said.

“You forget, my friend, that the Prince has called us not only to battle but to be heralds above all!”

Kendrick returned Duncan’s smile. “The pupil teaches the teacher. I am proud of you, Duncan!”

Duncan led Kendrick to the gatehouse tower so that all within and without the castle could see and hear him. Kendrick looked out over the many thousands of people and felt their need. His heart swelled with compassion, and he began to speak.

“Within the walls of this castle,” he told them, his voice ringing clear in the chilly air, “your sons and daughters were taught to live in rebellion to you, to the King, and to His good ways. Such rebellion never brings freedom. It always brings bondage and ultimately death. But there is One who brings true freedom and life. Let me tell you about the Prince …”

PARTING SORROWS

Many weeks passed, and the labor of restoration and healing in Bel Lione seemed endless. The town and her citizens were changing, and Kendrick and Duncan did their best to guide them through it. Their testimony led many to believe in the Prince. They even started a haven where men and women could train to become Knights of the Prince.

Many citizens opened their homes to prior captives who had nowhere to go or were too weak to travel. Lady Odette graciously took in four who needed daily care to strengthen them. Teara was among them, for six years of near starvation had left her in a state that would require months of recovery.