The Fall of Arnon

Chapter 13

The plan had seemed so perfect, until that moment when the world seemed to fall into shards of broken glass. Even as Lerendo and Sir Ryan pulled the wraith-like body of Telltale behind a suit of armor hiding themselves from the dull eyes of a plain little servant girl as she scurried around the sitting room doing small, menial tasks, it still felt like defeat was eminent.

The castle had been built to mirror itself. The east wing as well as the west wing were perfect pictures of each other. The one thing that separated them was the throne room. Both, however were like mazes, wandering from room to room through large hallways, each distinct from the other. It was one of the castle's most well-know features. From the Hall of Ancient Times to the Hall of Legends, the castle overflowed with strange and wonderful things.

However, for the three conspicuous figures racing down the Hall of Statues, the significance of the beautiful masonry seemed to be of little consequence. They had nearly reached the end when the sound of incoming steps echoed through the high marble ceilings. It didn't take long for Sir Ryan to be crouching behind the gigantic legs of a statue standing tall as an Arnonian knight and Lerendo to be pressed against the wrinkled side of a larger than life dog. He held Televtale to his chest and waited with baited breath.

As the two men swept around the corner, a shiver crept up Lerendo's neck. It was the berated and bejewled form of his father, the king, and alongside the old man strode a tall foreign-looking man. His tunic betrayed the Eagle of Farthonia upon its blood red material.

Lerendo pivoted his head and saw Sir Ryan, eyes closed and mouth moving in silent prayer. One hand rested sternly upon his sword hilt.

Their conversation was easily heard as they seemed to have no intention of hiding anything.

"Yes, of course, we welcome any new trade in Arnon," the king offered.

"You have been most generous, Gerard," the Farthonian smiled.

"Ah, think nothing of it," the king replied also offering the man an indulgent smile.

"About the other thing." This time the man's eyes darted about and his voice sank into a whisper. Although Lerendo nearly fell from his hiding place trying to catch a snippet of the rest of the conversation, all he heard were the harsh slicing of various words melting into each other.

They passed through the door at the end of the hallway and Sir Ryan and Lerendo jumped out from behind their various sculptures.

Peering out from the door into a sprawling ballroom, Sir Ryan's heart sank. White and shining, the granite spread across the floor looked as though it had been waxed until they could wax no longer. Chandeliers shivered across the rafters, their perfectly cut crystal frames flickering in the afternoon sun. Tapestries woven by the skillful hands of Arnonian women hung across the walls, each stitch a work of love.

But, once again, now was not the time for admiration. As Lerendo's feet flew across the sparkling floor, his arm bracing his friend, he could hear the music of harps and violins floating across the deserted room. For an instant a flash of his mother's face, her yellow ringlets flying through the air as his father caught her up in his muscled arms. Her sky blue ballgown shimmered in the light of a thousand candles.

But, the little one who had peeked through a tiny crack in the door so he could see just a glance of the merriment within, now peered out into the courtyard without just yards from their escape to freedom.

"This is it," Sir Ryan whispered, his eyes searching the face of the barely alive boy lodged between the two of them.

"It's not going to work," Lerendo slumped against the wall. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach as he heard the sound of chain mail jingling only a few years away.

"Yes, it will. With God all things are possible." He quickly raised his eyes to heaven before placing his hand on Lerendo's shoulder and yanking the brown cloak from his back. Pulling the heavy material over Televtale's shoulders, he pulled him to his side. Looking towards Lerendo, he smiled cheerfully and then was gone staggering down the pebble patch.

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Fernand the Knight. The words seemed made for the red-haired young man standing guard at the door of the king's castle. And yet, somehow, life seemed to have other plans for him. His destiny now, seemed to be guarding those people he could only dream of being. It was not the lot he would've chosen, but simply the one he had been given.

To believe that Martin was ungrateful for his role in the annals of history, would've been a mistake. Each morning, he arose with the sun, his heart beating with excitement over what the day might bring. He would begin his day by cooking the other guards a healthy and refreshing breakfast, followed by a much-needed cleaning of the guardhouse. He would be lying, if he didn't say he often felt like a maid more than an armored guard, but so was life, as he would say.

Although, he had dreams of something happening to him that he could only;y describe as extraordinary, the day still wore on with increasingly ordinary events passing the hours away.

That was why, when he heard the loud crunching of pebbles and the halting, off-tune warbles of an old sea shanty, something in him came to life. He turned, and there swaying like a tree in a desert storm, two men came wobbling towards him.

It only took him a moment to recognize the old kn night who had passed that way the day before. The other seemed to be the mysterious boy he had so kindly vouched for.

"Oh, my hearties," he sang, his voice warbling through the notes. "There's a storm on the sea but it's nothing to me. 'Cause high, ho, we're far from the reach of the barbarifies..." He slowly dissolved into a muttered chant as he came face to face with Fernand and his companion guard.

"You're drunk," Rooster (his companion guard) stated.

Fernand rolled his eyes. "Sir, you are going to have to take the hood off the boy, before you proceed. You see, we have an escaped convict on the loose, and we can't be too sure."

The knight squinted at him before nodding his head. However, instead of revealing the face of his friend, he suddenly lurched forward, and there before both men he lost his dinner.

"Oh, you... you." Rooster's face had turned a bright red color and he looked about ready explode. "Get out of here. Just go!" He stood aside, making sure to keep at least five feet between him and his offender.

As the two passed out of sight, Fernand stared after them. He couldn't help the feeling that there was something different about that boy.