Kingdom's Reign (15 page)

Arrethtrae began to resemble the Kingdom Across the Sea—the splendor of the cities, the beauty of the country, and the peace in the hearts of her citizens.

What could ever destroy the greatness of such a land?
I wondered.

TALEA!

It was the tenth year of the reign of the Prince. Talea and I met again in Salisburg to begin our journey northward. It was by far the most difficult trek, for we traveled to the cities beyond the Northern Mountains. Norwex was the largest of the northern cities, and Sir Gunther was both city prefect and regional governor there. Our assistants did not relish the journey, so this year we left them at Salisburg and traveled on our own. The passage to the northern region lay between the Northern Mountains and the Tara Hills Mountain Range.

It was during our visit to a small city named Denshire, between the foothills of these two mountain ranges, that we began to notice a strange thing happening among the people. As we visited with the prefect, Sir Bennington, and many Knights of the Prince, it became evident they felt something was amiss. Talea sensed it too, and I saw a serious look return
to her eyes—a look I had not seen for years. Ten years of peace and prosperity would not allow me to imagine anything more serious than disgruntled citizens, but Talea was not convinced.

“Sir Bennington, what is it that seems to be wrong?” We sat side by side at an evening meal that he always hosted for us when we passed through. Two of Bennington's knights had joined us.

He thought for a moment. “I have come to believe that secret meetings are occurring, but I cannot verify my suspicions.”

“What do you think these meetings concern?” Talea asked.

“I don't know, Lady Talea,” he said. “I've asked the knights to keep a keen ear open for information, but we have turned up nothing.” Bennington threw his hands up and leaned back in his chair. “It may be nothing at all, but I am not the only one who has noticed it. It is almost as if the people are … discontent and annoyed.”

“Discontent and annoyed?” I asked. “With what?”

“Many have not sworn complete allegiance to the King and the Prince, you know,” he replied. “More than half the city will not drink the bitter wine at the celebration feasts and be sealed to the King.”

“I understand that, Sir Bennington, but even so they are enjoying the benefits of our benevolent King, are they not? They are not limited, nor is their freedom restricted, as long as they do not harm another or violate the Code. They can travel freely, run businesses, build, discover … What is left?”

The room fell silent.

“To defy,” replied one of the knights who had remained silent throughout the meal.

We all looked at him, and I suddenly remembered that the free will of man is like a coin with two sides. The decision to choose good and evil is available to every man. It was a sober realization.

I thanked Sir Bennington for sharing his concern and promised to stay vigilant as Talea and I continued our journey. He redirected the conversation to something uplifting before the evening's end and told us of a spectacular view partway up the mountain range that was well worth the ride if we had a mind to see it.

The following day, Talea and I bid farewell to Sir Bennington and left for the northern cities, but we decided to first climb Crestview Ridge and enjoy the view Bennington had described. It was truly spectacular—almost as though the entire kingdom were before us. We left the ridge and traveled down the northern face of the range and came across a fresh campsite that seemed to disturb Talea.

“What is it, Talea?” I asked.

She looked at me and then to the trees. The air was cool this high up, and I could see her frosty breath as she exhaled. The rose of her cheeks captured my attention. She was beautiful. I had conditioned myself to ignore this part of my life, but now I briefly dreamed of a different path for us. I loved her company, but our mission seemed to prohibit anything more than business.
I wondered if there was some other way for us to live. The last two years had been especially difficult. Even though our friendship was deeper, I was not content with it as it was.

“I don't know, Cedric … Maybe it's nothing,” she said. “But I have not felt such uneasiness for many years. Something is just not right.”

We searched the area for some clue as to who might have camped here. There were numerous fire pits, and I discovered many footprints—all large. A chilling thought swallowed my mind, and I looked over at Talea. She was thinking it too. I knelt down and traced one footprint with my finger. A sickening feeling enveloped my stomach.

“It's time to leave, Talea,” I said.

She did not hesitate. We mounted our horses and traveled in silence for some time.

“Have you kept up with your sword training?” she finally asked.

“Nearly every day … my sword and the skills the Prince taught me are my love. It has been difficult at times to find someone to train with, but an imaginary foe is often more cunning than a real one. How about you?”

She smiled at me. “Want to find out?”

“I'll take that as a challenge,” I said and returned her smile. “Just remember what happened the last time you challenged me.”

She raised one eyebrow, and her smile dissolved into a look of determination. We found a clearing at the base of the mountain where a stream wound its way through the forest
trees to eventually spill over a rocky ledge into a waterfall-filled pool.

We dismounted and let our horses graze a few paces away. Talea faced me and drew her sword. I drew mine and bowed respectfully. She did likewise, and we took our stances. I realized that I had never trained with Talea. This would be significantly different than the Intrepid Course. I wondered how difficult this challenge would be.

She advanced with a quick combination. I defended and returned with one of my own. She quickly caught each of my cuts perfectly with the flat of her sword to preserve the edge of the blade. Within moments, our swords collided in a relentless volley of cuts and slices. She thrust; I parried. As the bout progressed, she became more and more aggressive, and I could not resist the urge to do the same. Soon we were in a full-fledged sword fight with neither of us holding anything back. It teetered on the edge of dangerous, but the competitive nature of Talea was enthralling. Her countenance was serious and focused. I found it necessary to tap into every ounce of my skill and ability to keep the fight equal.

We continued long after a reasonable amount of time for training, for neither of us appeared able to relinquish the fight. Not since my training with the Prince had I been so completely challenged. I was thoroughly impressed and found incredible comfort in the knowledge that I could trust Talea's skill with the sword if ever our lives were at stake. The forest faded into the background as I found it necessary to focus exclusively on Talea's moves. We rotated, sliced, cut, thrust, advanced, and
retreated in an intense fight. At one point Talea brought a barrage of four combinations that put me in steady retreat.

She must be tiring. When the motion of her last cut expires, I will press hard and finish this
, I thought.

But I did not see the dip in the ground behind me. As I stepped back, I lost my balance and fell backward. She brought a vertical cut down on me, and I just barely stopped it above my head. I quickly rolled to my feet next to a large fallen tree trunk. She brought another cut down upon me, and I stepped aside, narrowly avoiding her blade. The sword embedded itself into the tree just to the left of me, and she was left trying to withdraw it. I was positioned between her and the tree trunk—too close to execute any moves. She brought both hands to bear on the stubborn sword, but it would not budge. I considered sidestepping to gain room for a slice, but instead I wrapped my left arm around both of hers and held them tightly. Her face was close to mine, and I saw beads of sweat on her brow, cheeks, and upper lip. Both of us were breathing hard. I looked into her dark, captivating eyes, which were full of ferocity. She struggled, then paused and looked into my eyes. I flipped my sword into the air, grabbed it by the steel of the blade, and offered the hilt to her.

“I yield, Lady Talea,” I said between breaths.

Her eyes softened, and for a moment a look of genuine admiration crossed her face. I saw in her eyes what I remembered catching a glimpse of the first time we met. She released the grip on her sword, and I let loose of her arms. She took my sword without turning her eyes away from mine.

“I accept, Sir Cedric of Chessington,” she replied.

I smiled, and we both moved apart slightly. “Thank you for one of the most invigorating challenges with the sword I have ever had. You are a worthy opponent with whom I am honored to serve.”

“As are you, Cedric.”

Talea and I retrieved her sword and refreshed ourselves with the cold mountain-stream water before resuming our trek. We visited two smaller cities before arriving in Norwex. Sir Gunther welcomed us, and we were soon sitting in his manor around a large wooden table with delicious delicacies before us. I was thankful for the days of travel between visits, or I might have taken on the look of a pregnant horse with all the wonderful meals the prefects offered. His wife and two children joined us for the meal.

“It is good to see you, Lady Talea and Sir Cedric. We look forward to your visit each year. Will you be at the feast coming shortly?” he asked.

“Certainly, Sir Gunther—and you?” I asked.

“We would not think to miss it,” he said with a large grin.

Talea sat beside me. I glanced her way and noticed that she was looking at Sir Gunther's adolescent son, whose head was lowered, a smirk on his face.

Sir Gunther was a jolly fellow with a barrel chest to match. His wife was plain but full of life. Their daughter, Ava, was ten and quite shy. Delton was seventeen. Each year he seemed to grow colder toward me, but I attributed it to the struggle of adolescence.

“Your children have grown so much this last year, Sir Gunther.” I turned my head. “How have you been, Delton?”

He tried to mask his disdain. “All right … I guess,” he replied and then occupied himself with the food on his plate.

“And how are you, Ava?” I asked the young lass.

She smiled and blushed. “I am fine, sir. Thank you.”

“The meal was delicious, Lady Raleb,” Talea said to Gunther's wife.

“Yes,” I agreed. “Thank you very much.”

The meal was indeed excellent, and I ate until I was uncomfortable. Afterward, Delton quickly disappeared with one of his friends, and Ava found a doll to play with. Soon only Gunther, Talea, and I were at the table.

“Gunther”—I paused—“have you noticed anything unusual in your city or in the region lately?”

“Why do you ask? Should I have?”

“Sir Bennington of Denshire conveyed some concern about his people, and I was wondering if you'd noticed it as well?”