Kingdom's Call (12 page)

“Will he recover?” asked the youngest of the three men. There was genuine concern in his voice. Although he wore the clothes of a peasant, the other two men did not treat him as such.

“I'm not sure. The wound is severe, and he has lost a lot of blood. Whatever the outcome, we have been discovered
and you can be sure that the Noble Knights will return,” Chadwick replied.

The stocky man turned and paced to the door and back while rubbing his forehead. “I don't like this—not at all!” he said as he looked at his two friends.

“I don't think we're in immediate danger, Sir Bensen,” the young man said. “For now we must do everything we can to keep him alive.”

Chadwick took a deep breath and then paused.

“What is it, Chadwick?” the younger man asked.

“He claims to have …”

“To have what?” Bensen said, nervous and impatient.

“To have seen the Prince.”

The moment of silence was indicative of the astonishment they all felt.

Bensen shook his head. “No … no … this is a ruse to capture us all! Weston, you are wrong. We are all in very grave danger!”

“What if he is telling the truth?” the younger man named Weston asked.

Bensen looked at Weston fiercely. He pointed in Gavin's direction. “This is Sir Gavin, the Tyrant of Chessington, we are talking of. I would not be surprised if he fell on his own sword just to gain our confidence so he could destroy us all!”

The Tyrant of Chessington?
Gavin cringed and closed his eyes tightly.

Chadwick rubbed his beard. “What are we to do with him then?”

“We cannot kill him, for it is not the way of the Prince, but nothing prevents us from leaving him here. His men will return, and by then we will be long gone,” Bensen said.

Weston shook his head. “Gentlemen, this man could be a true Follower of the Prince, and we must believe him.”

“And risk condemning ourselves and our families to the prisons and torture chambers of the Tyrant?” Bensen asked incredulously.

“I will take him to Cresthaven,” Weston said.

Chadwick and Bensen stared at Weston in silence. Chadwick placed a hand on Weston's shoulder. “Sir Weston, you have proven yourself both wise and brave as a Knight of the Prince, but I cannot help but consider this a foolish decision. If you are wrong, you will be sacrificing your wife and children to the prisons, and you will very likely be killed.”

“If I trust this man and ill fortune befalls me and my family, then I am guilty of too much trust and can stand before the Prince in honor. But if I do not trust him and his heart is true, then I will have turned my back on a brother and on the Prince. My honor will have forsaken me. I choose the former, for I believe in the Prince and in His power to transform the hearts of men … even the heart of the Tyrant of Chessington.”

After a brief moment of contemplation, Bensen spoke. “So be it. We must get Chadwick and his family away from here immediately.”

“Agreed,” Weston replied. “Whether this man speaks the truth or not, his men will eventually be back for him.”

Bensen turned to Chadwick. “Prepare your family. I will return shortly with help.”

“The King reigns,” Chadwick said.

“And His Son,” replied Weston and Bensen in unison.

Gavin tried to move his arm and moaned in pain.

Weston came to him. “How are you feeling, Sir Gavin?”

Gavin looked at Weston and marveled. Though he was dressed as a peasant, there was nobility in his stature. Gavin wore the splendid clothes and armor of the Noble Knights and yet felt small next to Weston. He knew he could trust him, for his dark blue eyes were full of compassion. Weston's hair was dark brown and slightly wavy. His chin was square and accurately characterized the confidence of the man. He knelt down to inspect Gavin's shoulder.

“I am … wounded,” he said, speaking more of his heart than of his shoulder.

Weston paused and looked into Gavin's eyes, then nodded. “Had the sword been a bit lower, you would probably be dead. We can be thankful for that.”

Gavin grasped Weston's arm, and he winced from the pain the movement caused. “I am thankful for the trust of one man.”

“And that you have. We must prepare you for a journey out of Denrith. It could be a very difficult one for you considering your condition.”

“I understand,” Gavin said. “The large fellow's concern is not unwarranted. I don't think my men will return to Chessington
without me. It would be a disgrace, for in their eyes I am now either a hostage or a traitor. Either way, Lord Kifus will insist that they recover me.”

Bensen returned with six other men, and they wasted no time in their preparations to abandon Chadwick's home. Within a short time, the residence was empty, and Chadwick and his family had disappeared into the community of Denrith as common citizens.

During this time, Weston tended Gavin's wound and prepared him for the journey ahead. This proved quite difficult, for his dressings needed to be changed and the pain that accompanied any movement was nearly unbearable. It radiated from his shoulder throughout his entire body, and his right arm felt as though it were on fire.

Bensen stayed behind to help Weston, but he was clearly apprehensive. Out behind Chadwick's home a two-wheeled cart was configured to carry Gavin on a makeshift bed. Triumph did not resist the rigging and patiently waited for Weston and Bensen to set Gavin on the cart behind him.

Both Weston and Bensen became concerned when a man on horseback galloped down the alley and did not slow his horse until he was nearly upon them. It was one of the men who had earlier helped evacuate Chadwick and his family.

“The Noble Knights are returning!”

“I knew it!” Bensen said.

“We can't outrun them, and he would not survive the flight,” Weston said.

The rider looked back from where he had come. “They are
on the outskirts of the city and riding quickly. We have only a few moments!”

“Get him to Eagle Pass, and I will gather the men and meet you there. The passage is narrow enough to fend them off,” Bensen said. “If we can hold them, you should be safe. They would have to ride for miles to find another way through.”

Weston grabbed Bensen's forearm. “I thought you didn't believe him.”

Bensen squinted his eyes, and the look of battle was in him. “I don't—but I believe you, and I am praying that you are right. Now go!”

Weston mounted his horse and grabbed Triumph's reins. Gavin saw Bensen look down at him. There was a measure of consternation on his face, and the pain in Gavin's heart deepened. Here was a man who was putting his life and the lives of others on the line for him when just a day ago Gavin would have gladly had him beaten and thrown in prison. Nothing he could say or do would justify his past or convince this man of his gratefulness.

Weston quickly rode up the alley, leading Triumph by the reins, with Gavin in tow on the cart. Gavin could hear Bensen giving the messenger orders as they departed.

Every jostle of the cart brought agonizing pain to Gavin. At times it felt as though the sword was still embedded in his shoulder. Gavin raised his head to look behind them, but thus far no one followed them. They cleared the limits of the city and entered the woods that bordered to the north. The road became rough, and Gavin thought he might lose consciousness
simply from the pain. He sensed an increase in the elevation of the terrain. From what he could see, the surrounding landscape was becoming a rugged mixture of trees and large rock outcroppings. After a few moments he heard the sound of many galloping horses.

The road straightened in a small clearing at the edge of the woods just prior to the entrance to the pass. Hanan and the rest of the Noble Knights soon appeared behind them in full pursuit with swords drawn. Weston saw them too and increased Triumph's speed. Gavin wondered if he would survive the pounding of the cart. The Noble Knights gained on them quickly, and it looked as though their flight would be cut short. He heard Weston slap Triumph's hindquarter and yell as he drew his sword. Weston quickly circled his steed and faced the Noble Knights single-handedly. Triumph raced onward without a guide. Gavin knew that Weston would never survive such a gallant encounter, but just before they met, a dozen mounted men burst from the woods on one side of the clearing to join Weston in the fight. The two forces collided and the sound of crashing steel upon steel filled the air.

Weston engaged Hanan. In that brief encounter, Gavin saw the skill of an expert swordsman in his new friend.

“Get him through the gorge” Bensen yelled to Weston, “and we will hold them off here.”

Weston pulled back, turned his horse around, and galloped to catch Gavin and Triumph.

The rugged trail narrowed, and the rocky pass towered high on each side. Gavin could see Bensen and his men defending the
entrance to the pass as the Noble Knights fought aggressively to break through. A gentle curve in the road caused the rocky walls of the pass to obscure Gavin's sight as the sound of neighing horses and clashing swords slowly diminished behind them.

There was no turning back now. In that moment, he knew that he had severed all ties to his former life. Gavin was no longer a Noble Knight, and the life before him seemed as uncertain as the rugged terrain that surrounded him.

 NO MORE A KNIGHT

After a great distance of harsh travel, Gavin finally felt the horses slowing. He opened his eyes to see Weston looking back to confirm that there was no pursuit by the Noble Knights. He hoped that Weston's friends were able to not only deter their pursuers, but escape themselves. Gavin was pale and barely coherent. His bandage was soaked with blood. As Weston attended to his wound, the warm and friendly arms of unconsciousness enveloped Gavin.

Gavin awoke just enough to sense his misery. His world seemed to bend and shift as he tried to focus his mind, but he could not stop the apparent delusions. He sensed wetness in his mouth and tried to swallow, but it required great effort. He could just make out two dark figures standing over him.

“This is the man?” he heard a hollow voice say.

“Yes,” replied the other form. “Fever has set in … there is nothing else I can do. I fear he shall die.”

“If it were not the Prince Himself who told me, I would not believe it.”

Gavin felt unconsciousness beginning to swallow him again.

“Told you what?”

“He gave this to me. You are to apply it to his wound. It should save his life. He told me that this man is chosen. For the sake of the Prince he will suffer many things and …”

The figures slowly disappeared into the blackness along with the words that Gavin could no longer hear.

The voices seemed so small and distant, like footsteps echoing down a long hallway. He was sure they were real, but Gavin couldn't quite understand the words. The fog was lifting, but only very slowly.

“Why do you suppose Papa brought him here?” one small voice said.