The Golden Knight #2: The Battle for Rone

  “I could have sworn there was blood,” Justin said.

  “It is only sore. I will be fine,” Rainna said. “I can walk.”

  “Let us go back to our camp then,” Marsonee instructed. “Before another band of robbers comes along.”

  “What makes you think I am going with you people?” the bandit said. “What makes you think I just will not run away?”

  Justin stared the robber in the face and glanced over at Marsonee. “If you think you can out run him,” Justin said. “Be my guest.”

  Chapter Two

  The King stood on the castle wall staring out at the energy barrier known as the Great Divide. The Prince, dressed in flowing white robes and a cape, entered the rampart through a stone door and approached.

  “You summoned me, my King?” the Prince asked as he bowed slightly.

  “Marsonee has retrieved the boy,” the King commented. “They are now on their journey to Rone.”

  “And the Princess?” the Prince asked.

  “Rainna has escaped Castle Devon with the ancient Book,” the King replied. “She too is on her journey to Rone.”

  “So all goes well.”

  The King and the Prince began walking along the castle wall.

  “So it would seem,” the King shrugged, rubbing his white beard.

  “Then what troubles my King?” the Prince asked. He too had a beard, but it was full and black.

  “What is worse,” the King began. “Doubt or pride?”

  “Both can be equally deadly,” the Prince said. “One paralyzes the soul with fear. The other separates the heart from the body.”

  “And how does one cure such an affliction?”

  “Only by faith, my King,” the Prince answered. “A faith that can only be found in the Great Book. The Book that Rainna now possesses.”

  “Marsonee is filled with doubt,” the King answered. “The boy, Justin, is filled with pride.”

  “Shall I go to them?”

  “Yes, my son,” the King replied. “But not in a way that they will know you. They must arrive at their destinies by their own ways.”

  “I understand.”

  They walked in silence.

  “And Rainna?” the Prince suddenly asked. “Her role shall soon be complete.”

  “The Keeper and the Golden Knight are bound together as one. They form a union symbolized by the Ring of Life. One cannot exist without the other,” the King replied. “So it is with you and I, so it will be with them. The Keeper and the Golden Knight are one.”

  _______________________________________

  Justin poured some water from his canteen into a small tin cup. He walked over to

  Princess Rainna. She was sitting by the campfire trying to warm her hands. He offered the cup to her.

  “I thought you might be thirsty,” he said. “Are you sure that your leg is not injured?”

  “Thank you,” Rainna replied, taking the cup from him. “My leg is fine. Whatever injury may have befallen it earlier appears to no longer be there.”

  “I thought it might be broken.”

  “There are many things in this land that are broken,” Rainna replied. “Fortunately, my leg is not one of them.”

  Justin admired her beautiful face for a moment. Rainna grinned as she took a large drink from the cup.

  “Was there something else?” she asked, handing him back the empty cup.

  “No,” Justin stuttered out. “I guess I should help Marsonee secure our prisoner.” He turned and started to walk away.

  “Justin,” Rainna called out. He turned back to face her. “Thank you for saving me. You were very brave.”

  “It was nothing really, your highness,” Justin said.

  “Perhaps when you are finished,” Rainna continued. “I mean with the securing of the prisoner. You would like to sit by the fire with me.”

  “Yes,” Justin said. “I can do that. Once we secure the prisoner.”

  Rainna smiled as Justin turned and walked away. Marsonee had taken the captured robber over to a tree where the horses were tied and grazing. Marsonee hovered in the air while he tossed a rope over a large tree branch. He landed back on the ground.

  “Do you have to put me over here by the horses?” the young man lamented. Marsonee tied the robber’s hands with the rope. “It really smells over here.”

  “Be happy a worse fate did not befall you, thief,” Marsonee answered. The mighty archangel pulled the rope down. The robber was hoisted into the air by his arms.

  “This cannot be good for my back,” the bandit grimaced. “I never was really a flexible kind of guy.”

  “Silence.”

  “You know my friends will come back for me,” he told the archangel.

  “You have no friends,” Marsonee remarked. “For there is no honor among your kind.”

  “Alright, I get it,” the robber replied. “But you do not have to rub it in.”

  Justin approached. “What is going on?” he asked.

  “Just kind of hanging around,” the robber quipped.

  “Perhaps we should gag his mouth,” Marsonee said. “He appears to like to make a lot of noise.”

  “I heard you over there by the fire, farm boy,” the young robber said. “That royalty wants nothing to do with the common folks like us.”

  “What is your name?” Justin asked.

  “I am not telling you anything.”

  “Alright,” Justin said. “It is really up to you.”

  Several moments of silence followed. Marsonee and Justin turned to walk away.

  “Franco,” the robber said. “My name is Franco.”

  “It is nice to meet you, Franco,” Justin said, extending his hand.

  Franco shot Justin a sarcastic look. Justin withdrew his hand. “My name is…”

  “I heard your name,” he said. “What kind of a foolish name is Justin?”

  “I have never really thought of it as sounding foolish,” Justin remarked. “My mother had always told me it meant full of justice.”

  “Give him no heed,” Marsonee said. “What wisdom can possibly come from a robber hanging from a tree?”

  “I was not always some thief,” Franco blurted out.

  “You are exactly what you have chosen to be,” Marsonee replied.

  “Perhaps we should get Franco some food and drink,” Justin suggested. “You look like you have not eaten in days. Believe it or not, Marsonee cooks a pretty good meal.”

  Marsonee motioned Justin to step away from the tree. “Your heart is good, boy,” he said in a whisper. “But you have not seen this world as I have. When we arrive in Rone, we shall turn him over to the courts there.”

  “We cannot turn him over to Flar,” Justin replied.

  “Perhaps you should tend to the Princess,” Marsonee answered. “But remember, she cannot be trusted. While she may currently hold the ancient Book in her hands, Rainna is a member of the House of Devon. To me, she is no different than this thief. We must watch her carefully.”

  Justin walked away in guarded silence. He approached Rainna who was sitting quietly by the campfire holding the Book.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “No,” Rainna replied. “The fire is warm.”

  “Your clothes are dirty,” he said. “We have other things that you can wear.”

  “All that is soiled by the mud can be washed away,” she said. “I have other garments in my pack that I can wear.”

  “May I sit?”

  “Of course,” Rainna answered. “It is your camp.”

  Justin sat down beside her. He picked up a stick that was lying nearby and poked the fire with it. “I have never really met a princess before,” he said. “I do not really know what to say.”

  “If I was not a princess, what would you say?” Rainna asked.

  “I guess I do not know that either,” Justin confessed.

  “Then it is not my title that troubles you.” Rainna laughed. “I must sound so royal!”


  “We really do not have a lot of girls in Arter,” Justin said. “Flar had them removed since they could not work the fields. Only a few were allowed to stay to sew wool.”

  “Arter?” Rainna questioned.

  “It is a small village. Maybe you remember it. My parents grow wheat and corn. We were only able to keep enough cattle that could be used in the fields.”

  “I have never been to Arter,” Rainna replied.

  “Are you sure?” Justin puzzlingly asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Justin remembered Marsonee’s words of caution.

  “What is that?” Justin said.

  “It is the Book of the King,” Rainna replied. “Inside this book lies the history and future of our people.”

  “How did you get it?”

  “I took it from Castle Devon. I was instructed by a messenger of the King to take it to Rone.”

  Marsonee approached the campfire. “And what messenger was this?” he said.

  “It was a voice, almost like a little girl,” Rainna answered.

  “That hardly sounds like a messenger of the King,” Marsonee replied. “It reeks of magic.”

  “And what of you?” Rainna answered back. “Why has an archangel of the King after all these generations crossed through the Great Divide?”

  “I owe the House of Devon no answers,” Marsonee said. “The boy and I shall see that the Book is taken safely to Rone.”

  “I will not give it,” Rainna said. “Even to you.”

  “Then the distance is wide between us,” Marsonee said. He walked away.

  “He does not trust me,” she said. “I can understand that.”

  “I do not know the complete story as he does,” Justin answered.

  “Why are you with him?”

  “I am not entirely sure,” he said. “There is a legend, a story about the Golden Knight. We go to Rone to try and fulfill a prophecy.”

  “You? You are the Golden Knight?”

  “I think so,” Justin answered. He thought to himself for a moment. “Let me talk to him.”

  He rose and walked across the clearing to where Marsonee was standing, gazing up at the stars.

  “She seems good,” Justin said.

  “Appearances can be deceiving,” Marsonee answered.

  “Princess Rainna does have the Book,” Justin remarked. “She took it from Flar and she is going to Rone. It must mean something.”

  “I have found that little in this world is to be left with chance,” Marsonee said. “I must protect the ancient Book as I must protect you.”

  “Then it is better if she stays with us,” Justin said. “Besides, Flar is certain to come after her. It is only a matter of time before he realizes it is gone.”

  Marsonee turned to face Justin. He smiled. “You are right, my boy,” he said. “She stays with us.”

  Chapter Three

  The wind howled across the night sky. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled through the clouds. A small, wooden boat skirted across the murky waters. Inside the boat, a tall, dark figure with boney hands stood in the rear guiding the rudder. A hooded, old man dressed in ragged robes sat holding his staff. The old man squinted his feeble eyes and raised one of his frail hands to guard his face against the salt water slapping against the boat. An island slowly appeared through the mist.

  The island had once been an active volcano years ago. Now, on the top of the mountain, a large, gated prison castle stood. Only one path led from the main gate down the steep, jagged cliffs to the shore. The beach was a crusty mixture of volcanic ash and sand. The old man could see six figures standing on the beach. The fire soldiers of Flar all held torches which flickered in the wind.

  The boat glided through the waves and hit ground. Two of the fire soldiers rushed forward and pulled it to safer ground. The old man rose and carefully climbed out. Water swirled around his wrinkled, sandaled feet.

  “Stay and wait for my return,” the old man said over the howling wind to the dark figure in the rear of the boat. The figure nodded his approval.

  Using his staff for balance, the old man splashed ashore. The warden of the prison camp came forward to greet his visitor. “It is good to see you again,” the warden said.

  The warden was a short, chubby man. He wore a battered armor chest plate and fur pants. His mustache was full. His face was scarred and cracked. One eye seemed to twitch when he spoke.

  “Does anyone know of my arrival?” the old man asked.

  “We have told no one,” the warden replied. “The storm worsens. Let us go inside. I have brought the horses.”

  “Take me to them,” the old man commanded.

  They rode the horses up the narrow path. The fire soldiers marched by their side with their torches. When they arrived at the gate, the warden motioned with his hands and called out to the soldiers who were inside the main tower. The gate creaked down and the old man rode inside the castle.

  The warden led the old man down several levels of stone stairs past rows of prison cells. The passage was hot and steam flowed out of the walls. The prisoners were a miserable, ragged bunch who were barely clothed or fed. They moaned in agony or grabbed the prison bars and shouted out as the warden passed.

  “They have said very little since being brought here,” the warden said.

  “It is to be expected,” the old man replied.

  The warden wiped the sweat from his forehead. “It is so blazing hot down here,” he complained. “I try to stay on the surface where it is much cooler.”

  The old man ignored him and continued down the passage.

  “Is it wise to hold them?” the warden nervously asked. “There are rumors of rebellion.”

  “Rumors are hardly your concern.”

  “Shut up you, miserable creatures!” the warden screamed, slamming his fist against the prison bars. “I will hang you from the walls myself!”

  “Have they been cared for as I have instructed?” the old man said.

  “They are allowed to board together,” the warden said. “They receive three meals per day. I take great risks to do as you ask. If Lord Flar knew.…”

  “I trust you have received the gold I send?”

  “I have.”

  “Then do not complain,” the old man said.

  They rounded a corner. It was a larger prison cell. Chains hung from the stone walls. A skeleton rested on the floor. A pile of straw was in the corner. Two figures, a middle aged male and female, sat on the hard floor. Their clothes were dirty but had the appearance of the upper classes. The female motioned with her head when she noticed the warden and the old man peering inside at them. The man rose to his feet.

  “We are here,” the warden said.

  “Leave us,” the old man replied.

  The warden stared in disbelief and stood motionless for a moment. Then, he turned and hobbled away.

  “How dare you come to see us!” King Devon exclaimed. “I demand you have us returned to the castle at once!”

  The old man smiled through his crooked teeth. “Your new arrangements came about out of sheer necessity. They are temporary at best.”

  “Temporary?” Queen Devon said, rising to her feet. “Temporary until Flar decides to dispose of us permanently?”

  “Your daughter has always had your fighting spirit,” the old man said.

  “Why are you here, old man?” King Devon questioned. “Surely, there is nothing more you can take from us.”

  “How long have you known?” the old man said.

  “Known?” Queen Devon said in disbelief. “Known what?”

  “About your daughter.”

  “Rainna?” the Queen said. “If you have harmed her...!”

  “I would never harm her!” the old man shouted back. “I.…”

  “You what?” King Devon said with a laugh. “You care for her? You made a deal with the devil himself before she was even born. Flar may have given you the false promise of eternal youth and magical po
wers, but nothing you do can make Rainna care for you. She sees you for what you really are.”

  “And what is that?” the old man asked, turning away.

  “A traitor,” King Devon firmly said. “A person willing to betray his King for their own selfish gain. Rainna’s faith is strong. She cannot be broken.”

  “I gave you the choice to join us!” the old man screamed. He jabbed his thin, wrinkled finger into the king’s face. “You were a brave warrior, a leader of the great crusade. All that has been did not need to be!”

  “It was never meant to be her,” the old man said. “If I have known that she was a part of the prophecy.”

  “Is my daughter safe?” the queen asked. “Is she in Devon Castle?”

  King Devon hugged his wife. “Come, my dear. Do not be troubled. Rainna has escaped him. Why else would he be here?”

  “It is not her destiny,” the old man said. “I have done all I can.”

  “You have done nothing,” King Devon said. “You wear two faces now, old man. Which one is true?”

  The old man turned backed to face them. “If I cannot have her, I can assure you that no one shall. Even the Golden Knight cannot protect her. You should not have hidden her true nature from me.”

  “Your visions have failed you,” King Devon said. “Only the Book holds the true prophecy. What will Flar do when he realizes that you cannot destroy the key? Your magic may have clouded the minds of the people of this kingdom to believe a series of events that is not true, but how long can you maintain the lie, old man? Or should I call you by your real name, Murlox?”

  The old man smiled. “Enjoy your stay,” Murlox said before turning and walking away.

  Chapter Four

  “If the weather continues to hold, we should arrive in Rone in three days,” Marsonee said as he adjusted the saddle straps on his horse. “I will ready Princess Rainna’s horse as well.”

  Franco hung from the tree, sleeping.

  “Wake up, thief,” Marsonee barked, nudging him with his hand.

  “Huh, what? Morning already?” Franco grunted as he opened his eyes.

  Marsonee drew his sword.