The Fall of Arnon

Chapter 6

To be a knight was one of the highest honors ever to be placed upon a man. The word knight denoted the kind of courage, honor, and love for one's country to be found alone in the acts of bravery shown in battle, in the slaying of fire-breathing dragons, or in riding to and fro amongst the people in an attempt to keep the peace. It was not a title placed lightly upon anyone.

From the time he was a small boy, Lerendo had known it was his destiny to be one of the chosen few, and since then, his heart beat excitedly every time he thought of the man he would soon be, but as time changes we can do nothing but change with it or hold on to the antique ideas of the past. He had chosen the latter.

It is a thing of wonder how only a few seconds can change one's life forever. When harsh realities of life finally evade the serene oblivion you once lived in, you can never be the same. Words spoken, only the day before had destroyed a once-beloved hero in the eyes of young Lerendo, and now he looked with anger upon the flabby, frosty-eyed man staring back at him from the safety of his painted lines.

He stepped back, adjusting his eyes to the full view of the long line of faces staring back at him. Questions rushed through his mind, clouding a once clear resolve.

'Did these men even deserve my adoration or were they all just like him, conniving and greedy?' They were questions only dead men could answer. There were plenty of dead men in the hall of kings, but their lips would never move again to once more remind the world of bravery, faithfulness, love, and courage.

Lerendo had felt betrayed but now he felt only sorrow. Sorrow for the boy that had died and sorrow for the death of the man that had killed him. As he walked through one of the many courtyards gracing the castle's interior, his shoulders drooped in defeat.

The sun, the flowers, even the sparkling green grass seemed to mock his pain. An ornate stone fountain bubbled excitedly over each rim, falling through its everlasting cycle. A hummingbird wooed its mate with a daring dive, and a lonely boy looked upon the lovely scene.

Over and over the previous night, Lerendo had perused the idea of giving up, live and let live, but every cell in his body seemed to revolt against such an idea. He had been taught the art of fighting, both with a sword as well as without, and in every grain of his being he could feel the need to fight back against the oppression befalling this city even if it did come from his own father.

His father: the king, his Royal Highness, his rule model, his hero, and now, his enemy. Lerendo remembered the old man as he used to be, an exalted, respected, and loved king, or so he had thought. Now, all he could hear were those fateful words: "I said, rip his heart out!"

If it had been nobody, a person unbeknownst to him, perhaps Lerendo would never have seen the injustice emanating from those words, but that was not to be. The object of the death sentence, had a name, a life, a family, and all were very much known to the young prince. His name: Televtale, his life: a knight, and his family: the Family Lochlin. He was Lerendo's best friend from childhood. And now, he was being condemned to death. Yet, somehow, no-one had called for justice, not a voice had spoken for the innocent boy.

Only a month ago, he had ridden his faithful steed Narivaro across the green rolling hills of Arnon, Televtale by his side. They had laughed into the whistling wind, let the cool stream wet their parched throats, and watched as the sun dove behind the Forest of Othelio. It had been the perfect day in their young lives, but suddenly like a knife cutting the past into the oblivion of time, for no reason, Televtale's would soon be cut short.

The very ground he walked on seemed to cry out for justice, and he vowed to God above that he would die for that justice.

-------------------------