The Story That Never Ends

(Yeah, an old man with a cowboy hat comes to mind when I think of that name… :) )

(Arf Arf!!! (Meaning, Me too! :) :P About Warren... I don't think the name really goes with him.)

Ditto!

We all agreed that we would take a poll, and now some of us are complaining about the names. They are not what I wanted either but please? We should not be doing this. Unless someone makes another poll, these names should be the final names.

My suggestion is is that we move on. This is not going to help the story progress. I hope you guys understand………

(Yeah, I understand. That's fine. :) )

Well, what if we took the two most popular names, including or not the newest suggestions, and vote between them.

(Well, I think the only reason it came up was that Rachel suggested a whole bunch of names and no one saw them to put them on the poll…)

(I would have suggested them earlier, but I was gone so I wasn't able to)

(yeah:)

(True, but there will always be new names that we will find interesting. I am all for perhaps having one more poll for Rowan, but I think the decision needs to be final. What do you all say?)

(totally agree)

(That is a great idea! But no more polls for Lady Arwen or Sir Quinn. If we have more polls we will just keep having more polls!)

(HI, EVERYONE! I had a really quick comment I wanted to make regarding the story. As I said a little while earlier, I think it would be great if we could start wrapping up the story within the next couple chapters or so. We in the editing circle have already started thinking about ideas for a sequel, but right now I think we should decide where this book ends. All too often, authors write sequels for books that don't really need them (they already have a perfect ending). We don't want that, I think. :)

I was thinking the story could end by the following occurring (I leave it up to you guys how). Lord Traius is defeated; Gradlem is rescued; Britton, Kathryn, and Gradlem escape to liar's lair, where they find that Lady Arwen's (Lady Ariana's) party has gone South to meet with the king. Eventually, all the Order is reunited and plans their next moves against the castle. Most important of all, Rowan finds out that he is a prince. At that point, we stop the book.

PLEASE don't think of this as "Jimmy is telling us what to write." Not at all! I was just thinking that it would be great if we could resolve all the dangers going on right now, have everyone together (a big happy reunion), and show why the book is named the way it is (for those who have not been part of the editing process, we have all agreed that the book should be called "Prince of the Fallen: A Tale of the Nobles of Alavaria"). That provides closure, lets us defeat an evil character, and leaves us with room to make a sequel. Once again, don't think I am forcing this idea, I just think that it would be a good ending and a quick one. I think we should get this incredible story out as fast as possible. What do you all think?)

(I was wondering when you were going to tell the others that! I knew already. That comes from being the sister of a editor :)……..

This has become and incredible book! Great job everyone! This is Awesome.

Who is going to make the new poll for Rowan?)

(@Jimmy- I love your ideas.
@Hannah- we aren't complaining just I was just making the point that I think we should come up with names that at least 2/3 of us like for 2 of the most important characters in the book. (Speaking of Rowan and Sir Quinn) u know what I mean?)

(I think BBJR13 is going to make a new poll when she comes back. So like Sunday-ish)

(@Jimmy, Okay! Sounds great!! Oh, and btw, if you all can think of a better name than "liar's lair" :P that would be great. Because I'm really awful at coming up with names :P)

(I will try. Your idea was extremely clever, so it will be hard to top. :) )

(well, thank you. But I'm sure whatever you come up with will be WAY better:)

(I REALLY like that name! That was really clever! I think we should keep it!)

(I am really sorry if that post came out as me being mean or blaming any of you! I did not mean for it to come out like that. I am so sorry.

But we did take a poll and we all agreed so I think we should just stick with that ok? )

(Why would we sti I with it if almost NONE of us liked it though?)

(Well, I believe the final count was four to two to one to one in favor of the name, so technically Warren won the poll over the opposition. I think, though, that we are still going to make a final poll to settle the question permanently. :) )

(Here are the most recent chapters. We are progressing nicely. :) )

CHAPTER 10

Ten of the knights were sent out to form a line of scouts around the secret cave entrance. Within the circle of their watch, the other eighteen knights began to hurriedly carry sticks and branches from nearby trees. To cut off the Council's men completely, however, they needed to block the opening completely with hewn logs and other heavy obstacles. The knights, wiping their brows, set to work hacking at the trees with their swords. This was not very efficient, as they soon realized, for the sword blades both failed to cut through the sturdy trunks and gave off too much noise, putting them in peril of discovery.
Deciding to make due with what was already collected, Sir Desmond and the other knights piled the branches across the narrow opening to the cave.
"We must hurry, for I am sure they are coming!," said Sir Desmond. "I cannot comprehend why it has taken them so long. Nevertheless, we must get this lighted and run for our lives."
One of the nobles on guard returned and told Sir Desmond that he could see torches going steadily towards the North.
"That is good. It is probable that Lord Traius called off his strict watch in this area of the forest, or at least sent his men to search elsewhere."
By this time Sir Desmond had set flickering a small bundle of tinder he had carried with him. Smoke soon rose from the mass of branches that covered the entrance, and that smoke turned almost instantaneously into flame. It had been a dry summer, and the wood caught fire rapidly.
Sir Desmond turned and drew his sword. "Now, my lords, let us depart from here. We have not a moment to lose!"
The knights on guard filed back towards the burning pile.
"Where are we trying to reach, Sir Desmond?," asked the Count of Nevra.
"That I know not, but this fire has given away our position, so we must hurry. I would advise we go towards the South."
Without wasting any time the knight set out at a run, all the while keeping a keen ear open, ready to challenge the slightest sound that could announce an obstacle to their desperate flight.

The Count of Omb sat at his desk, his hands stroking his beard thoughtfully. How could he crush this rising against the Council? “The aged king is near his end; he must die soon, but the Prince! If we only knew his name.” He spoke softly to himself, saying it over and over as if it were echoing off the walls of a giant cave. He suddenly sat upright, then sat down. “No, it would never work…….Or could it.” He sat at his desk for a quarter of an hour more before ringing the bell, at which one of his many servants entered. 
“Yes, my lord?” 
“Assemble the Council.” 

The seven lords present sat down at a long table in the dark meeting room waiting for their leader. He came in, lowered himself impatiently into his chair, and instantly started. “My fellow Lords,” exclaimed the Count of Omb, “We have almost crushed the rebellion of these…criminals.” The last word he spit out as if he were spitting out poison. The other nobles exchanged evil grins. “But,” began the Count again, “we have one setback, the prince. Who is he? If the king mysteriously and suddenly ceased to exist…” He paused smiling wickedly, “ Well, you all know very well. Such an occurrence would, of course, make his son the king in his place."
"Making it harder to completely subdue the country!,” yelled Lord Telrond, banging the table with his fist.
The Count of Omb held up his hand.
“The dispatch which we have cleverly abducted did not disclose the name, which is most unfortunate.”
“My lord," interrupted Lord Alexsandr, the youngest of the Council, "what do you want us to do about the matter? Gripe about it?” The other lords chuckled.
“Silence! Or I will have your head!” The room was instantly silenced, for they all knew that the Count was not one to threaten lightly. “I plan for one of you to take upon yourself the responsibility of capturing the king… alive."
Voices shouted out, "Alive!? Spare our greatest enemy?"
Without hesitation, the Count of Omb continued, "We will force the information regarding the prince out of the old man until he breaks. Trust me, he WON"T be spared the punishment he so deserves. You all understand he will be guarded well. Who is willing to be a man and undertake this task? ”
Lord Melkior stood up with a puffed-out chest, and with his powerful voice spoke first, “I, my Lord, shall go with all my men.” The Count smiled inwardly. He wanted the king, and even if Lord Melkior died in the process he would have no hard fellings. In fact, he felt rather threatened by the powerful man with so much influence over the other Council members. “Very well, I order you to set out before dawn.”
“Yes, My lord.”
"And Lord Melkior," added the Count with a calm and withering smile, "if you do not succeed in bringing the old king before me yourself, and fail in your mission, I am afraid your position will be rather…unpleasant."
Lord Melkior gave a hard swallow, then he walked briskly out of the room, his figure followed by the blazing eyes of the Count of Omb.

Britton instructed Kathryn to follow him, then stealthily made his way out of the forest and toward the outer castle wall. He stopped as he approached it, then started moving around it, looking closely at the stones that comprised it as he went. 
"What are you doing?" Kathryn whispered. "How is this supposed to help us get inside the castle unnoticed?" 
"Have patience, dear Kathryn. I just need to find--ah, here it is." 
Britton stopped at a part of the wall where there seemed to be no mortar holding the stones together. He put both hands on the wall and began pushing against it. 
"Britton, what are you doing? Are those stones loose?" 
"No, I'm just pushing on this stone for the fun of it," Britton joked. "Of course the stones are loose! Now come help me, if you would." 
Kathryn rolled her eyes at Britton's sarcasm, then began helping him push the stones. 
"How did you find out about this weak spot in the wall? And why did you never tell me? We always share everything with each other." 
"True enough; and I would have, if I had not only recently discovered this place." 
"And how exactly did you discover it?" 
"I just happened to be passing by this part of the wall a few days ago, carrying some sacks of potatoes for the cook, when I stopped to rest. I leaned my hand up against these stones, and one of them moved a small bit. I looked at the wall in surprise, and noticed that there was no mortar around a few of the stones. I didn't search into it any further at that time, since there were others around me, but I came back to it last night to see if it could be broken through. When I discovered that it could, I planned on using it tonight as an escape route for you and me to flee from this place and Lord Drakin. But the events of today have rather altered my plans somewhat, wouldn't you say?" 
"Quite so! But are you really saying that we could have fled the castle tonight if it hadn't been for what has gone on today?" 
"It would have been very likely." 
"But since you apparently want to flee, why have you not done it before? You are often allowed out of the castle to gather wood; why didn't you just run away on one of those occasions?" 
"Well, for one thing, I would need to bring provisions. It would be difficult to give the cook a good reason for me carrying a large sack of food while I go out to collect wood. For another thing... well... I would... want you to come with me." 
Kathryn stopped and looked at Britton. She looked like she was about to say something, but Britton suddenly exclaimed. "Oh, look at that! I think we've made a wide enough hole now to get through. Follow me." Britton slipped through the hole and walked briskly down the stone path just inside the wall. Kathryn sighed and followed him. 
Upon emerging on the other side, Kathryn looked around and noticed for the first time the immense loneliness that surrounded her. Not a person was in sight, neither soldier, nor cook, nor stable boy. She gave a quick shudder, then ran to join Britton, who was a few steps ahead of her. 
"Where is everyone, Britton? I see no sign of any of the servants, and where is Lord Traius?" 
Britton looked up and said, "Well, I suppose they -- the soldiers I mean -- are still in the courtyard, either still trapped or ---" He paused for a moment in deep reflection. "The servants are likely hiding in their homes. Having discovered what was going on, it would be quite natural." 
Kathryn thought for a moment, then her eyes brightened. 
"Britton, I think that we should try to save the garrison. If we could but open one of the gates, we could show them to the hole we got out of, and then they could all escape with their lives!" 
Britton shook his head. "It is likely that none of them are still living. Lord Traius is not a patient man, and if the standoff that I told you about lasted any longer, he probably would have sent his man to silence his opposition. Anyway, Kathryn, we have a mission to perform. Lady Arwen herself told you to find Rowan and Sir Quinn. It is only right that you should obey her orders solely and without risking yourself on an impossible task, for truly, it would be impossible." 
Kathryn was once again silenced. She thought about what Britton had said. He was probably right. To open one of the gates would be nearly impossible. Neither of them had any idea as to the strength of Lord Traius' force, and it was wise to assume that it was numerous. "No," she thought, "I suppose Britton is right." 
Suddenly, in a flash, she remembered. With a cry, she shouted in terror, "Gradlem!" 
Britton, upon hearing, also turned pale. Gradlem, Kathryn's cousin, was one of the chief captains of the castle guard. He was a brave man and well liked by the garrison, though he made no secret of the fact that he followed the One True God. Although the Council, particularly the Count of Omb and the Lord Drakin, hated the Almighty, they allowed this self-professed believer to remain in the castle because of his great leadership abilities and knowledge of weaponry. They kept a close watch on him, however. Britton and Kathryn realized with horror that, as a member of the guard, Gradlem would almost certainly be among those within the confines of the dreaded courtyard. Whether he be living or dead, they must find out. 
"Oh, Britton, Gradlem is in there!" She pointed toward the high wall just within view that announced one of the entrances to the courtyard. 
"I know, Kathryn, but our mission must still take priority..." He saw that he was starting to doubt his position. The look in Kathyn's hazel eyes made him stop short. 
"Britton," she said as a tear fell down her cheek, "I know what my -- our mission is. We were sent to save the lives of two brave men who stood up against evil and did what was right. Behind that wall are hundreds of men -- one in particular, who I am sure have done the same. You said earlier that a group of men refused to turn their arms against their comrades and to follow Lord Traius. These men, Britton, have stood for right, just as the Almighty commands us. It becomes our duty, I think, to save these men if possible and to support good when it fights evil." 
Britton stepped back. The wise words, coming from such a young girl, struck him with astonishment. He saw the determination in her teary eyes and knew what it was he had to do.


CHAPTER 11 
Rowan knelt by Sir Quinn's body with a large rock still in his hand. He felt as if he had had the breath knocked out of him. He studied Sir Quinn's face. It looked so empty and peaceful at the same time, almost like a well-kept but uninhabited home. He snapped himself out of the fog he was in and looked down the tunnel. He heard the tramping of feet coming down the tunnel. He quickly picked up Sir Quinn body now cold as death and hid in the corner of the cell. He closed his eyes and prayed that whoever was coming would not see them. He paused for a second and heard 2 voices... 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Meanwhile, two knights had approached Lady Arwen and her party at Dwenden. The first knight lifted the visor of his helmet and began to speak. 
"My lady," he said. "We have come to tell you of some very dreadful news. I am Sir Caston, a messenger sent from King Archen. The cave in which the king has been hiding has been discovered by the Council, and now is surrounded by about two hundred men! There is a passage leading out of the cave, but as I said, there are two hundred men surrounding it." 
"Oh, how very dreadful indeed!" cried Lady Arwen. "Is there any way they could have possibly escaped?" 
"We do not know," replied the second knight, who had now also removed his visor. "We departed as soon as the evil band of men was spotted. I am Sir Bradley, also a messenger from the king. I have come to warn you of something else. There is a traitor on this very ground." Then, pointing his finger he added, "The traitor is him." 
His finger was pointed at Sir Myles. 
Sir Myles's face blanched. "Me--I--are you saying that I am disloyal to the Nobles of Alavaria? How dare you accuse me of such a thing! I am fully committed to conquering the Council of Lords and putting King Archen back on the throne of Kornaiden--or rather, Alavaria!" 
"So you say in word," Sir Bradley said slowly, "but I believe that your actions would prove otherwise." 
"What actions?" Sir Myles sputtered. "Have you any proof of this ridiculous assertion?" 
"I believe that I do. When Sir Caston and I were back at the cave where the king was hiding, we heard a large group of soldiers, approximately six hundred in number, approaching. We were gathering wood far from the cave, so we had no time to run back and warn the others, but we hid ourselves and listened closely to see if we could find out who sent them. 
"We saw the leader of the group approach the entrance to the cave and announce that he knew that King Archen and some other nobles resided there. He claimed that this information was revealed to him not long before by a messenger sent by a traitor within the ranks of the Nobles of Alavaria." 
"Ha! And that is your proof that I am the traitor?" Sir Myles scoffed. 
"I am not finished. After the man had said this, we overheard one of the soldiers in the back ranks say, 'Ah! He must be talking about Sir Myles, the one who's been leaking so much information to the Council of Lords about the rebels. I've heard he's been a big help in crushing the rebel forces.'" Sir Bradley looked Sir Myles in the eye. "Well?" he asked questioningly. 
"I--I--" Sir Myles stuttered. 
"I know I did not mishear the man. And he would have had no reason to lie about such a thing. Have you, Sir Myles, been leaking information to the Council of Lords regarding the Nobles of Alavaria?" 
"I... oh, all right. All right! Yes, I am a traitor--a turncoat, a backstabber! For years I have been sending secret information to the Council, revealing rebel hideouts and movements. I joined the rebellion shortly after it started only so that I could do this. I have always served the Count of Omb, and him alone; not that fool Archen!" 
Sir Bradley gritted his teeth. "How did you send the message regarding the location of the king? You have been here the whole time." 
"As you said, I sent a messenger. Shortly after we arrived here, I gave a boy who lives in this village an envelope that revealed the whereabouts of the cave in which the king has been hiding. After a little... persuading... I sent the boy to the Count of Omb. Apparently the Count sent quite an army out to capture the king." 
Sir Bradley glared furiously at the traitor before him. "You fiend! What other information have you revealed to the Council?" 
"Up until recently, I have never been able to reveal to them anything significant. But just a few days ago, a grand opportunity revealed itself. Shortly after the Duke of Assen was killed--I assume you have now heard of this "tragedy"--I was standing nearby. I happened to know that something very important was concealed within his left boot, so I stole it when no one was looking, and later sent it to the Council of Lords." 
Sir Bradley's eyes widened. "One of the king's dispatches containing the location of every rebel base in Alavaria!" 
Sir Myles chuckled evilly. "Precisely. Unfortunately, the document did not contain the location of the king and his party; they had moved to the cave they are now in--or were in until now--only recently, and the dispatch had not yet been updated to account for the move. That is why I sent the message as quickly as possible." 
Sir Bradley stared at Sir Myles, aghast. "How could you deceive us for so long? How could you allow yourself to be such a murderous traitor?" 
"It has not been difficult," Myles sneered. "I always hated the way King Archen ruled, and when the Council of Lords took over the country, I wanted to help take down the people who still remained loyal to him. Pretending to join their ranks was the best way I could think of to do it. I have never served Archen, and I never will! Long live the Count of Omb!" 
Sir Myles had by this time drawn his sword. It glistened in the light, like some fantastic jewel, and all the nobles present could not help but feel uneasy. In spite of their rage, they well knew that Sir Myles was the best swordsman present, and one of the best in the land. They had inwardly questioned Sir Myles' ready tongue, wondering why he had chosen to reveal so much information. They now saw with horror that Sir Myles didn't intend for the information ever to leave them and warn the other nobles. From the look in his eyes, they saw that he meant their deaths to seal his story forever. 
They quickly grasped their situation. Having not suspected treachery from within, they had encamped within a small hallow of ground that dug into a cliff. Surrounded on three sides by sheer walls of rock, with a narrow opening large enough to fit only one rider or two nobles at a time. Sir Myles, throughout the course of his interrogation, had artfully edged himself around so that he was now standing at the opening, ready and willing to kill any who endeavored to escape. Moreover, he stood on rising ground, making it easy for him to kill any who dared approach, even were they mounted on horseback. 
"Lady Arwen," said Sir Caston with a brave expression on his face, "Let us cut down this traitor -- this fiend who dared to call us his comrades, and ride to save our lord and king!" 
Lady Arwen sighed. She watched as Sir Myles brandished his sword and made ready for battle. It seemed like it was just one tragedy after another -- battles and deaths falling far too frequently one each other's heels. 
"Sir Myles," she said, "Please, do not do this wicked thing! If you persist, it is likely that you and many of these knights will perish. Repent of your deed, or at the least, let us go in peace." 
Sir Myles laughed at them. "You couldn't possibly take this ground. If you all charge, only two can take me at once, and I shall be more than a match for them. You ask me to repent. Here is my answer. A life of evil, accompanied by comfort, is far better than the life of suffering you nobles lead. I'd infinitely rather live a life of power than a life of submission. The Council offers power; the Order offers death -- a death that you all will soon realize!" 
The knights sadly resigned themselves to a conflict they knew must come. As a last effort, Sir Bradley stepped forward. "Lady Arwen, this man has done evil and won't back down. We don't have to fight, though. We should simply wait until he falls asleep. He certainly can't stay standing forever. When he falls, we shall be able to escape." 
William, who had until then remained in the rear of the party, then spoke up. "I am afraid, my lord, that that simply will not do. While Sir Myles was speaking a few minutes ago, a small shadow came within view -- the shadow of, I thought, a child. That child was almost certainly one of Sir Myles' messengers, for it walked secretly and carefully, as though it did not want to be caught. During Sir Myles' explanation, I saw it pause, and then run swiftly away, no doubt to warn nearby followers of the Council. If this is the case, we cannot afford to wait any longer." 
The other knights agreed. Sir Myles still stood, laughing at the party, when Lady Arwen uttered the words, "Nobles, I give you permission to attack. For the Order, for the King, and for the Almighty!" 

Lord Arsoth was giddy with excitement. As he bound the true kings hands and feet, he laughed at muttered to himself, an evil grin overspreading his countenance.
"Oh, bless this day, the happiest day of my life!" He exclaimed shrilly. "You!" he said, pointing at one of his men, "You, bind his comrade there in the same fashion." Turning to the king he said in a condescending voice. "We certainly would not want our friends here to escape, now would we?"
The king did not reply. He suffered it bravely, quietly, praying the whole time for God to strengthen him for what lay ahead.
At the sound of the piercing cry, which, from the cave's mouth, was heard behind the invading army, Lord Arsoth's smile faded. A look to deep concern covered his face, the evil gleam in his eye turned into a look of panic.
"Who could that be?" he asked anxiously, giving the forest behind him a searching glance, scrutinizing it for any clues as to where that noise could be coming from.
"It sounds like a battle cry!" The soldier who had been ordered to tie Sir Walter replied.
"That indeed it does," the terrified Arsoth said, breathing heavily.
At that moment a huge fire began blazing not far in front and to the left of them, and the sound of many feet running was heard heading to their right.
Alarm spread through the troops. Each turned and looked about him, not sure in which direction to flee.
Lord Arsoth violently pushed King Archen against the cave wall, and turned about, himself just as confused as his band of soldiers. Trying desperately to regain his lordly calm, he shouted,
"Men! Let us go forward together to the clearing we discovered on out march hither, there we will be better prepared to face any onslaught that may occur.
"Although, I have not the faintest doubt that all we now witness is only caused by our own guard who have successfully captured the enemy trying to evade their just rewards.”
"For I am certain," he continued, laughing harshly as he kicked King Archen who lay motionless on the ground, feet and hands tied together behind his back, "that these dogs have not even enough followers to surround us so. We shall come back for these two just as soon as we discover the cause for such commotion."
But as he descended toward the clearing at the head of his troops, moving more of a run than a march, it was obvious that he himself did not believe what he had been saying.

As soon as the enemy had gone some distance, Sir Walter began cutting himself free as best he could, rubbing his cords against a rock. 
"My lord, the King!" he cried, "Are you all right?" 
"I am well," laughed the king, "Except for the fact that I'm not as young as I once was and being twisted up like this is not the most agreeable position." 
"Praise be to the Lord!" Sir Walter sighed and closed his eyes in silent thanksgiving. "In a moment I shall be free and will come untie you. We must hurry before they return. Whatever do you think is causing all that noise? What do you think has become of our friends?"


CHAPTER 12 
The voices Rowan heard were both those of young boys. Even before they came into view, Rowan could make out some of their rapid conversation. 
"--would greatly help my family. Lord Drakin, though cruel at times, pays well, and I am sure that my information would please him greatly." 
"I suppose. This tunnel is incredible! We have been walking for quite sometime. I wonder how long it took to build... how did you come across it again?"
"Sir Myles told me about it yesterday. He said it was the quickest way to inform Lord Drakin of the latest developments. Although he said some rocks would be in the way, he believed I would be able to uncover the opening. That is why I brought you." 
"I am glad you did. This is amazing!" 
Rowan sat back in astonishment. These children were messengers for Sir Myles, and in league with Lord Drakin? That would mean that Sir Myles, a knight whom Rowan had befriended during his time with the other nobles, was nothing less than a traitor! Anger began swelling up in his breast, and he began to have evil thoughts toward Sir Myles. However, he remembered a conversation he had with Sir Quinn a long time ago. 
He had been angry when a young boy about his age named Britton had gone up to him, laughed in his face, and called him "an ordinary orphan," even though he was a Count. He was tempted to respond with violence towards the boy, for his lack of knowledge regarding his parents had always been a sore spot in his heart. Sir Quinn, however, had wisely intervened. "Do not get angry, my lad, at what others do to you. They may not follow the Almighty, and if that be the case, how can we expect them to want the faith we have. That young lad insulted you and falsely called you an orphan, a story I cannot tell you now. It may be God's plan that showing kindness to him can win him to God." Although he had not fully understood his words, Rowan responded with kindness towards Britton, even though it was unpleasant. Eventually, through continued kindness, he had actually become quite good friends with Britton and they knew each other almost as brothers. Britton also came to know the Lord through the way Rowan treated him. 
Count Rowan smiled at this recollection. He resolved that, through the strength of God, he would not bear enmity toward Sir Myles if ever he should meet him. He then turned and waited until the young boys came into view. 
Rowan could hear that the boys were very close. Their footsteps echoed throughout the tunnel. 
"I think the opening is right around this corner, Asher." Rowan could plainly hear all they said. 
They came around the turn, and to their astonishment, they saw a dark eyed, handsome young man, despite the fact that he was a bit unkempt. 
The boys themselves were fair-haired, like most of the people of that part of the country, and had well-rounded figures. They were not much more than twelve years old, and there was a look of excitement in their eyes, a look that very often comes into the eyes of young boys who are upon an adventure. 
With a cry they jumped back into the tunnel. Rowan realized that he could learn quite a bit about what the Council knew from the information held by the two boys. He called after them. "Wait! Please come back!" 
The two boys replied,"You are a convict! We dare not. Come on, let's leave." 
"I am no convict," Rowan said again. "I am a free man." Rowan considered adding "now" to the end of his statement, but he thought better of it. The two boys inched nearer to the light, still showing doubt on your faces. 
"See, I have no chains, and the door is wide open." 
The boys noticed this and their uneasiness gradually disappeared at the sight of Rowan cheerful face. 
"What are your names?" 
"I am Isaac, and this is Asher," said the taller of the two boys. 
"What are you doing here?" asked Rowan. 
The boys thought for a minute and conversed among themselves, then said, "We are trying to warn the commander of a dreadful combat that is about to take place, if it has not already. We are trying to aid one of Lord Drakin's most trusted soldiers, Sir Myles, to destroy a great party of rebels. You won't tell anyone, will you?" 
"I will try not to, but please, tell me more about this battle." 
"I cannot say any more, for I don't know much else, other than the location of the fight, which is very near the town on the other side of this tunnel. I did hear that Sir Bradley is among the rebels, though. Anyway, I think it is time we went to see Lord Drakin." 
With an outward smile but with inward agony, Rowan watched as the two boys left his cell and went off towards the dungeon entrance. Quickly realizing that he would need speed to help his comrades, he carefully picked up the body of Sir Quinn, which fortunately Asher and Isaac had not noticed, and ran into the tunnel. 
Rowan knew he did not have much time before the Council’s soldiers exited the castle when they heard the news brought by those boys. They might notice him. He ran down the tunnel as silently as he could. After a time, he could finally see daylight in the distance. He stopped in his tracks. He thought he heard the moan of a man. Voices. Rowan knew that if this was the soldiers of the Council….no, not now, not as he was approaching freedom?!?! He suddenly stood erect as he heard what he thought to be familiar voices. He approached nearer. 
“We desperately need supplies. I thought you said, Sir Elviron, that a town full of provisions was here? It is of no fault of your own, of course, that it is destroyed, but I think it would have been better had we found a halting place not so close to Carivia and better suited to treating the Count’s leg.” 
“You are quite right. However, you well know that Carivia is not so dangerous as may seem. We have a refuge there.” 
“I am afraid that the dispatch probably revealed that refuge. Lady Arwen and Sir Quinn, if they escaped, would be near here. That is the main reason I brought us to this place.” 
Rowan’s eyes lit up with joy, friends were right out side the cave! Friends. Rowan started running, but not before he reverently placed Sir Quinn’s body at the cave’s entrance. 
“What was that?” Exclaimed the Baron DuBatz in a warning tone as he caught the sound of footsteps. 
“It’s me, Baron!” Then in a quieter tone, “Rowan.” 
Rowan emerged from behind a large charred tree. 
“Rowan! It’s certainly good to see you here. Where are Sir Quinn and Lady Arwen?” 
“Sir Quinn…has fallen. I do not know the whereabouts of Lady Arwen.” 
All three of the men gasped at the death of their friend, who they knew has an honest, chivalrous, and brave knight. 
“That is indeed a tragedy.” Said the Count of Terema, with a sadden look of his face. 
Suddenly Rowan remembered Isaac and Asher and their story. “Baron, I believe some of our friends are in danger.” He then explained to them the whole story of the boys and the part about Sir Myles being one of Sir Drakin’s most trusted soldiers. 
“This is serious. We must see to this matter.” 
As the four men went slowly onward, careful to avoid further injury to the Count of Terema’s broken leg. 
“Count, What has happened to your leg? Is it badly injured?” 
At this statement all three knights burst into laughter. 
“What’s so funny?” Asked Rowan inquisitively. 
“It is rather a humorous. I was riding my horse and sudde-“ 
Suddenly, they stopped short, as they heard the sound of clashing metal, and they as they came to the entrance of a three walled cavern and saw Sir Bradley, Sir Caston, fighting in mortal combat against Sir Myles. At that moment, Sir Elviron stated with surprise, 
“Well, at least we found th-“ 
As they all looked on, they gasped in horror as Sir Myles dealt a mortal blow to Sir Bradley. 

"Kathryn, I know this is hard for you, but we're going to have to wait." Britton said, trying to deny what he knew he had to do.
"Britton, I can't! Gradlem has a family! William, me, his wife, and his children! We can't let him die!" Tears began to trickle down Kathryn's cheeks as she tried to run towards the battle.
"No! Wait." Britton took a deep breath and stepped in front of her. "I will go. You must continue on the mission that Lady Arwen sent you on. I will go to find Gradlem." He pulled his sword out of his scabbard and saluted. "I go to fulfill your request, Lady Kathryn!"
Kathryn didn't smile. "Be careful, Britton." She turned away towards the dungeon, then turned back. "Please, Britton. Don't die!"
With those words, Kathryn turned and ran towards the dungeon.
"Dear God," Britton prayed as he watched her leave. "Please protect us both."
With those words, Britton turned on his heel and headed for the high wall.
He knew that, whatever he did, it would have to be fast and well-executed. Although he still doubted whether any in the courtyard were alive, he pressed on with the goal of at least finding out their fate.
He reached the wall and, without finding means of scaling it, he looked around rapidly. There, at the right side of the massive gate that led into the yard, he saw a door that led into the second wall of Carivia's fortifications. Upon testing it, he found with delight that it was open. He peered in cautiously and, when his eyes got used to the light, he saw that a staircase went spiraling up to the right, leaden to the top of the wall. He knew that, by climbing this staircase, he would be able to see what was going on below, so he set out at a run, taking three stairs at a time.
A large oaken door met him at the top. He opened it one sliver at a time and saw in the dying light that there were dozens of captives on the walls! By the state of their clothes, he knew that they had but recently been in the dungeons. He wondered how they could have escaped, and where Lord Traius's massive forces were.
"Perhaps these criminals rose up against Lord Traius," he thought. "In that case, there is a chance Gradlem could be alive! Then again, their faces don't look particularly friendly. I wish I could see down into the courtyard from here!"
Britton jumped back when he saw two men coming nearer towards the door, armed with great sticks. He prayed desperately that they would not open the door and discover him. Fortunately, the two men stopped just outside the door. They had merely been trying to light torches by placing a special oil on their sticks. Containers of the oil were scattered all over the castle, as Britton well knew. The terror of the two men, however, had driven it completely out of his memory.
"How long does it take to starve a person into submission?," one of the two released prisoners asked.
"I don't know. A couple of days perhaps. Just be happy we were able to convince Lord Traius not to slay them all."
"You are right. Freedom is precious, but I would not like to have it at the cost of others' lives."
"Lord Traius has been growing more anxious," the second man said nervously.
"I know. I think he is starting to change his mind. I feel sure the order will be given for us to fire upon them. I just don't understand their stubbornness."
"It's that red-headed fellow – Gidlaim, or something like that – that has caused it. I heard that he gave Lord Traius quite the tongue-lashing before we were released."
"He deserved it too, the brute! Still, if the garrison refuse to save their own lives, Evron, I see no reason why we should hesitate to save our own. If they don't take the opportunity to save themselves, why should we risk all for them?"
The second man paused. "I suppose you are right. Still, I wish there was something I could do."
"What can you do? Lord Traius is watching every move from that tower of his, and his men are patrolling the walls. If you make a wrong move, they will be upon you, and not only them, but the scum of the dungeons would gladly turn you in for reward."
"I don't know. I just wish I could do something."
Britton smiled. He knew what could be done. He rushed down the stairs and made for the dungeons. He had to find some rags, such as a convict would wear, and hurriedly. The lives of hundreds might depend on it.

Chapter 13

"King Archen, and Sir Walter, follow me," said a voice behind the king. He turned and looked at the person before him. He was a tall man with a shining face and blond hair. "I am Landon."
Sir Walter and King Archen slowly stood up, upon finding that their bonds were gone. The man started walking through the passageway, and the two followed. Soon they had reached the end of the tunnel, and Landon stopped.
"Your comrades are safe and making their way to a place of refuge. Fear not, gallant men," said Landon. "For the Lord is with you. Let Him carry you to the finding of your son, Archen, and to victory!"
And as quickly as he had appeared, the man was gone.
"King Archen," said Sir Walter in a shaky voice. "I believe that man was an angel sent from the Almighty!"
"Indeed, I think the same, my good knight," replied King Archen. "Now, let us find our comrades and escape!"
Sir Bradley screamed in agony as Sir Myles' sharp blade penetrated deep into his shoulder. Sir Myles chortled evilly as he turned to face Sir Caston.
"Surrender now while you're still concious, foolish knight," Sir Myles taunted, "Or you shall taste the death of my sword as well."
"Never!" shouted Sir Caston.
Sir Caston bravely charged toward the evil knight, but it was clear that Sir Myles' taunting words were not empty. Sir Caston was tiring rapidly and his strokes were more careless and unprecise. In one last final effort, Sir Caston thrust his sword towards Sir Myles' heart, but Sir Myles side-stepped the blow, and sent his own sword crashing down upon th blade of Sir Caston. Sir Caston's blade clattered to the ground and Sir Myles reeled back for the final blow. Just the , a lone silhouette of a figure came flying over the edge of the cliff behind Sir Myles and landed right on Myles' back. The two rolled across the rocky ground and then at the same time shot back into the air. All of Lady Arwen's party gawked in surprise as the sun shone brightly on the face of the newcomer–Rowan!
Sir Myles quickly recovered himself and mockingly laughed at the newcomer, " Who do you think you are to challenge me… boy!"
Rowan was tempted to flame up into anger, but he recalled his thoughts about Myles in the dungeon of Carivia, and simply said, " I am a humble knight of the true king of Kornaiden, and in the name if the king, I shall put an end to your traitorous doings." Rowan didn't flinch and stood tall with his sword drawn.
The braveness of the young man made Sir Myles slightly cower, but he quickly gathered his strength and aimed a full-force blow for Rowan's head. Rowan parried the cut, and countered with a combina-tion of cuts and slices of his own, putting Myles slowly in the retreat. While in prison, he had been longing for battle, and now he had the chance of a duel, he was putting all his heart into it. The duel went on for some time, but at last Myles took a careless slice, which Rowan quickly parried and then sent his own sword towards Myles' heart. Myles was unable to recover and Rowan's blade went clear through Myles' chest and out his back.
Rowan pulled back and Myles fell to the ground with his face a crimson red, and his eyes bulging and spewing out hatred. His jaw dropped and his expression was one of disbelief but slowly changed into one of deep recognition.
"Surely… you are…," he stopped and clutche his chest in pain. Then he spoke his dying words, "the Prince!"
Rowan started. As Sir Myles fell dead, he became lost in a stupor. A combination of his still-healing wounds, the fury with which he fought, and the shock at the words of Sir Myles made him unable to respond even as his friends gathered around, laughing and crying.
This state of confusion lasted for several moments, but Rowan soon shook it off and began questioning his friends and being questioned by them.
"How did you get here?," Lady Arwen finally asked. "We had given you and Sir Quinn up for dead when the tunnel collapsed. How could you have survived?"
Rowan answered, "It is rather a long story, Lady Arwen, but I will say that we escaped Lord Drakin's torture chambers through great effort and tried to make our way here. Unfortunately, in the process, Sir Quinn lost his life."
Gasps came from the other knights and nobles. Sir Quinn was one of the most loved of the Order, and his death dealt everyone a serious blow. Slowly, and with great effort, Lady Arwen responded, "He is with the Almighty now." Everyone gave an inward assent at her words.
"Rowan," asked Sir Caston, "how were you able to arrive so quickly? Did you come through the tunnel Lady Arwen told me about? It was certainly providential that you arrived when you did. Had you been any later, I should have certainly fallen by Sir Myles' sword."
"I was able to remove the rocks that blocked the tunnel and to travel through it. Still, I would not have arrived in time had I not had the help of Sir Elviron, the Baron DuBatz, and the Count of Terema."
At that point the three knights rode through the narrow opening, smiles on their faces. They were also greeted with great enthusiasm by the other knights.
Stories continued to be shared. Groups gathered to hear the experi-ences each had during the last few weeks. Some laughter was heard, but weeping was more frequent. Soon all began to set about burying those who fell in the fight, namely Sir Bradley and Sir Myles. As they worked, they discussed the sad incident.
"Sir Myles was a vile traitor," said Sir Caston. "All this time, he appeared to be as motivated as we were, while all the while he was giving away information that could have led to our deaths."
Sir Elviron then spoke up. "We must work to ensure that such an incident does not happen again."
The other knights nodded their heads.
"Rowan," asked Lady Arwen, "you were there as Sir Myles fell, and you witnessed his last words, although we were too far away to hear. Did he give any indication that there were other spies in our midst?"
Rowan was silent for a moment. He decided that it would not be wise to say that he was recognized as a prince. In the first place, he did not believe in Sir Myles' words. In the second place, he felt that it would be arrogant or inappropriate to so set himself up above his comrades, all of whom he looked up to, by claiming that he was a form of royalty.
For these reasons, he merely answered, "No, Lady Arwen. Nothing of importance was said."
With that, the knights continued their work, held a solemn burial service, and set about to make their plans for the future.
Britton hurried as fast as caution would permit as he made his way to the dungeons. He knew his plan was risky, but he now felt sure that it was what he had been called to do. Even if it cost his life.
Britton had been orphaned at a very young age, and for many years he had raised himself. He had done whatever pleased him and lived only for himself. That is, until he met Gradlem.
Gradlem had found Britton on the worst day of his life, sitting outside the castle against a tree, quietly sobbing. Britton had said something very cruel and spiteful to the young Count of the castle, and now was sorry he had said it. Not because he felt any guilt for behaving so wickedly, but because he was sure the Count would punish him and send him away, and he couldn't bear the idea of humiliation.
He had just decided that he would leave now and not wait to be sent away, when he stood up and saw a tall young soldier smiling down on him. Britton shrunk back a little from him at first but the soldier was very kind to him and finally succeeded in getting the little boy blurt out everything that had happened.
Over the next few months, the young soldier met with Britton often, even sharing his meals with Britton and taking him to his house to spend the nights so the boy wouldn't have to sleep in the stables as he usually did. The soldier taught him about the Lord, and how God had sent His Son to die in their place, and that he could not truly be an orphan if he had a Father in Heaven.
Britton's life was never the same after that, even though he often failed, he no longer lived for himself, but for Him that had loved him and died for him.
Gradlem had also been the first to introduce Britton to Kathryn and William. They treated the young orphaned boy as a brother. Not only had Gradlem showed the boy that he had a Heavenly Father, but he and his cousins also acted the part of an earthly family for the lad.
And now, thinking back over his life, and blushing a little as he thought of his first meeting with Gradlem and the Count of Carivia, Britton silently prayed for his Lord to help him and strengthen him in this endeavor to rescue the man who had first lead him to the Throne of the King.
Out of breath, he finally arrived at the dungeon. He was, for a mo-ment, surprised that there were no guards on duty, then he remem-bered with embarrassment that that was because there were no prisoners to guard. Still running at the top of his speed, he grabbed some convict’s clothing from the prison store room. He turned around to run back to the wall, but ran into a small figure – Kathryn!
“Why are you here Britton?” Asked Kathryn inquisitively. “You are supposed to be saving lives!”
“Well, so are you,” He said with a smile. “This is part of my plan. Have you found Count Rowan and Sir Quinn yet, Kathryn?”
“No. I can’t find them anywhere. I am getting nervous.”
“ I’m sure you’ll find them. I don’t have much time. I have to go!” And with that he raced out of the dungeon to execute his plan.
Britton crept toward the walls of the Courtyard where the released prisoners were at their stations by the catapults and other various machines. It was a rather difficult task to avoid attention because he was wearing the clothes of a convicted criminal. Slowly he went along, his eyes darting in all directions to notice any moving forms.
He slipped onto the walls unnoticed though the same door he had looked through only minutes before. He looked around. Britton wondered where Evron was. He was vital to carrying out his scheme. The short stalky man had been a noticeable character last time but Britton could not find him amongst the vast gathering of fugitives and soldiers. It was some time before the young man found the object of his search. The older man was leaning against the wall behind a catapult. He was the only one within hearing distance, which meant a grand opportunity.
“Evron! Evron!,” Whispered the boy. Evron looked around sharply. Seeing no one, he went back to his musing. Britton sighed. He’d have to get closer. He slowly walked up.
“Evron, Don’t look at me but listen to me closely.” Said Britton leaning against the same wall and speaking with clenched teeth.
“What do you want?” Said Evron, speaking in the same manner.
“Do you like what Lord Trauis is doing?”
“Of course not! No one does. He is about to kill innocent men.”
“Do you want to help save those men?”
It took Evron some time to take this in. Some young convict boy was going to try to save hundreds maybe thousands of men? And he wanted his help? This must be a trap. He did want to save the men, but if this was a trap… No, he couldn’t help. He looked at the young man out of the corner of his eye. His face was determined as if he was going to do this no matter what. His eyes expressed hope for help from him. What could he say?
“Yes, young man. What is your plan?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That same night, King Archen and Sir Walter cautiously made their way towards the cave’s secret entrance, still quietly discussing their mysterious visitor. They carefully picked their way over the smoulder-ing embers of the fire Sir Desmond had made and then, grunting in pain from their many wounds, swung themselves onto the forest floor, breathing slowly and deeply.
“My king,” asked Sir Walter in a whisper. “Do you think that they could have survived? The two hundred men Lord Arsoth spoke of might have proved too much for our friends.”
King Archen shook his head. “I have hope, Sir Walter, that they are still alive. I see no sign of the men Arsoth spoke of. Perhaps it was just a trick, meant to make us think there was no escape. Any way, that commotion near the cave entrace was sure to have called the soldiers, if thy existed, to that location. Finally, the man who helped us to escape told us that they were all right, and I have no doubt as to his honesty. Of course we should still be careful, but I think that, right now, we have little to fear. We shall trust in God for protection. He has preserved us this far, and I believe he will continue to do so.”
“You speak the truth, my king,” replied Sir Walter with a louder and more confident tone. “What do you think our plan should be now? Should we see what caused that battle by the cave mouth? The attackers could very well have been a party of the Order, in which case we should provide assistance. We could also make for one of the western or southern refuges.”
“They are known by the Council, Sir Walter. I am afraid that option is not wise at the moment. Your first idea might be a good one, but I think that there is too much danger of being discovered. I would suggest that we head toward the south, not to enter one of our customary refuges, but to find a new one and to meet with our friends who might not have heard of the danger we are all in. I remember passing through a friendly village near Forenton that seemed loyal to the Order. I think we should make for that.”
“As you wish, my king. I do wish we knew what the commotion was about, though. The timing seems almost miraculous.”
“That it does. But then, the truly miraculous is often not visible to our eyes. The greatest miracles mant times are those we don’t see, just as the bravest and strongest of hearts are not in those who appear brave and strong, but in those who, although small and inexperi-enced, have hearts like lions. I may be wrong, Sir Walter, but I think that the greatest of miracles take place within people and individuals; maybe that is what the Almighty intended. Flash and fire are powerful in their way, but the true mighty acts of God are so often the steady pull of His love. Little by little, piece by piece, a heart is transformed through his mercy and grace. Yes, the conflict was miraculous; but just as miraculous are the tranformations that occur every day within people. Those are acts that I will always admire. I only wish that the Almighty will someday see fit to transform the heart of…”
The King trailed off in deep contemplation. Sir Walter rose, staring at the king with a smile.
“Truly, my king, you were meant to be a poet. You are wiser than I, a fact I will never dispute. I think, though, that it is safe to be on our way.”
With that, the pair made their way into the darkness, their hearts bright with the light of hope.

Chapter 14

Evron looked up with a smile after hearing Britton's scheme. "I think your idea might work. It is dangerous and hare-brained, but still, I think it might work. What is your name, friend?"

"My name is Britton. I am not really a convict, but I am determined to rescue the garrison and I felt this disguise would be the best way to go about it. I do look odd, though."

"No odder than the rest of us," laughed Evron quietly. "Still, I have to warn you that to carry out your plan we will need more than just the two of us. Having been in solitary confinement for nigh on three years, I have no real knowledge of the hearts of these men. Many were imprisoned rightfully for crimes they committed – murderers, thievs, and the like. There are also those who were sentenced by Lord Drakin unlawfully for merely violating a minor ordinance. These men burn with hatred at the castle and would be glad to harm anyone associated with Lord Drakin. Still others, regardless of their kind hearts, would do anything just to be free – just to live." Evron sighed. "I was imprisoned simply for leaving the castle to carry a message to my family. I bear no real enmity for the garrison, but only for Lord Drakin, who is now dead. I am sure there are others who feel as I do, who shun the shedding of blood, but I could never find out who they are."

Britton looked up, he spirits slightly dampened at the older man's words.

"Leave that to me, Evron."

With that, Britton turned from the catapult and was about to walk away, when Evron laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Do not think, Britton, that you will certainly escape notice. Lord Traius is master at present, and he and his men see all." He paused and subtly pointed toward a low tower built into the wall. "Lord Traius constantly keeps watch from that point. We are convicts, Britton, to him, and any suspicion of treachery will bring his men upon us. If he can kill the garrison, he can certainly kill you."

Britton nodded and walked off toward the men, Evron watching him with a nervous glance.

Britton appeared to be doing his job well. He quickly entered into conversation with convicts, talking to them and frequently laughing. After a time, he would walk away, leaving the convicts where they were or pointing them to the catapult where Evron was stationed. Britton was almost halfway around the wall, and Evron entered into earnest conversation with the five men who had joined him.

Suddenly, Evron looked up with surprise as he heard an oaken door opening. He turned his head sharply to look. Behind the same door where Britton had been eavesdropping only minutes before, a dark figure had emerged and was headed toward them. As Evron looked more closely, he saw a red dragon emblazed upon the figures black garments. He knew what was going to happen.

"You men," the dark warrior called to the six convicts gathered around Evron's catapult, "Lord Traius has ordered you to fire down upon the garrison. He has been patient too long. Send the message down the line."

The six men were silent. They bore a look of determination upon their face that was all too evident.

"Well, you have the order, so fire. On pain of death, fire!"

The men silently looked over the courtyard walls. There, silently walking around in anxious and despairing manner, were a crowd of men, hundreds strong. The convicts grew more angry by the moment. Evron steadied them and replied. "We shall not do as you have said. We cannot slay the lives of men who have stood for what they believe to be the truth."

"How dare you!" shouted the guard, drawing his sword. By this time, the surrounding convicts had rushed to the scene. The men knew the evil within many of their hearts. If Lord Traius condemned the six to death, he would certainly reconsider releasing the rest, who could also be treacherous. Britton, too, had rushed up, striving anxiously to reach the six men.

The black soldier ordered them one last time to fire upon the garrison. They were just about to refuse, when Evron called out with a slight smile, "Men, it is useless to resist. They want us to fire, and so we shall."

The other five men, instantly understanding him, turned the catapult at an angle, so as to point it toward the great castle gate, the center of the three exits to the courtyard. The garrison jumped back, terrified lest the catapults should fire on them.

With a great shout, Evron cried out, "Fire!." Instantly, a great stone was seen streaming through the air and hurtling into the castle gate. Although strong, it was not designed to withstand such a strong blow at so close a range. It was broken open with a great crash, at which the garrison gave a great shout.

Lord Traius' soldier and the scum of the dungeons, however, were outraged. They instantly made for the six convicts.

Britton, who had watched with amazement the success of his original plan, now saw with horror that his only allies were to be destroyed without mercy. At the moment when it was needed most, he had no plan.

Rowan, Lady Arwen, Sir Elviron, and the other knights and nobles of their party slowly tramped through the forest. William at the head of the weary party was leading them to one of his and Kathryn's favorite hideouts. Where they were younger, the siblings had discovered it on accident and used to pretend they were dragons roaming about their secret cave. Before leaving their previous camp, William had used his knife to cut a message to Kathryn in a tree. Careful not to give anyone else the information of their whereabouts, he had just said "At Liar's Lair", the play name Gradlem had given the little cave. He knew only Kathryn, Britton, Gradlem and himself would know the significance of the carving. ?After a good hour of walking, they arrived at what would be their home for the time being. Each dropped down exhausted onto the ground and were soon fast asleep. ?~~~~~~ ?Rowan awoke with a start, something had disturbed his sleep. ?"Sir Quinn? Sir Quinn?" he quietly called out in the darkness to his dear friend, but after a moment of silence the dreadful truth reoccurred to his mind. ?The young count choked back tears, "This is going to be a lot harder than I thought." ?He tried to compose himself, what was it that had troubled him so? ?"Oh, I must have been dreaming," he though. "About that traitor Sir Myles. What was it he said? 'You are the prince'? What strange last words. The prince of what? And why was he looking at my sword when he said it? Did he say that because I won our sword fight and he thought I was the prince of swordsmanship?" ?That seemed way too ridiculous to Rowan. There were many men far better at swordsmanship than he. He wouldn't even have been able to beat Sir Myles had not the traitor been so full of himself and already wearied from his first engagement.

Rowan laid down, shut his eyes, relaxed his frame, and tried to fall asleep again. But those strange words kept running through his head "you are the Prince."
Suddenly, from his left came the sound of rustling leaves and a snapping of a twig. Rowan froze, and strained his ears to listen for another noise.

He glanced rapidly back and forth, watching the green walls of the tiny opening in the forest. The liar's lair, as William said, was a place that truly had an air of imagination and even enchantment about it. Although outside the green hedge-like walls the air was loud with the sounds of birds and forest-creatures, inside was quiet as a pond in the autumn. It was filled with soft grass and one or two trees. The knights and nobles of the party not on watch lay in a great circle around a smaller circle of arranged stones, within which burned the embers of a small fire. Fortunately, the small refuge could be left very easily, preventing such crises as had occurred the previous day at the cliffs.
In such a heavy atmosphere of quiet, Rowan could not help letting his mind wander. He thought about all that had happened, his mind once again resting on the tragic death of Sir Quinn. He thought about his unfortunate injuries throughout the past several days. Lady Arwen had applied a salve similar to that borne by Sir Quinn, and his wounds had nearly healed, but he still wished he could have been well enough to have better helped Sir Quinn.
He heard yet another sound, this time coming from a very close distance. Rowan' mind once again snapped to attention. Although the green walls were thick, he knew that very loud sounds could still carry through. He resolved to find out the cause of the sound, as it could very well have come from the Council's spies.
He first approached the two guards, William and the Baron DuBatz, and asked if they had also heard the sound. They said that they had, but they didn't think it anything but branches breaking as a result of the wind.
Rowan, unconvinced, asked permission to briefly exit the liar's lair. Baron DuBatz, who had gained great respect for Rowan after his conduct the day before, allowed him to find the cause of the sound.
"Be careful, Rowan" called out the Baron. "We need you to be present at our council of war later today. We cannot afford to lose you."
Rowan nodded, then quietly made his way through the hedge walls of the clearing and found himself in the forest. He again strained his eyes. For the longest time he saw nothing, but as his sight adjusted to the darkness, he thought he saw the form of a man lying face-down in the earth. Glancing around to make sure it was not a trap, Rowan approached the figure.
As he came nearer, it became clear to Rowan that the man was wounded. He rushed over and tried to see if he could help.
"Stay away, you vermin!" the man cried in terror, opening his eyes. "I will not be your servant. I serve the king and the Order!"
Rowan quickly replied. "Do not be frightened. I am a member of the Order. I am here to help."
The man smiled, then sighed. "Praise God I was brought here in my final ravings, but it is too late." He visibly gasped for breath. "Send this message to the king: all our western fortresses are destroyed. We are slain to the last man."
Rowan started in horror as the man closed his eyes and drew his last breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the intense moment that followed, Evron gave the terrified Britton a quick, meaningful glance. Evron nodded, and Britton understod his intentions completely. At the top of his lungs Evron, yelled to the five convicts who had sided with him.
“Jump!”
They quickly and proptly obeyed his orders. The followers of Lord Trauis, using their blades, slew two of the six as they took a leapt off the forty foot wall. The others screamed as they fell in mid air. “Falling, falling to their deaths,” thought Britton. In that split second that he had before looked over at Evron he had seen him smiling. “How could he smile?” thought Britton again. He soon found out.

The four remaining men stood up sputtering and laughing.
“A water trough! What is it doing here in the courtyard? They must have changed since I have been here!” Said Britton, laughing hard. The men below laughed also.
“Hurry!” said Evron in a commanding voice. “We must follow the soldiers out the gate. Blend in!”
“Stop, you fiends!” yelled Lord Traius, bursting through the door of the tower and onto the wall where the men were stationed . Then to the exconvits manning the catapults,
“Stop them from getting out those gates!” They proptly replied by shooting the catapults at the escaping men.
The soldiers in the courtyard ran toward the gate as they heard Lord Trauis’ command. They knew he would stop at nothing to get his own way and to take their lives. Many men were killed by the catupults, but the others rushed out as fast as they could to avoid the same fate.

Running with all his might, Evron led the other 3 men in a mad dash across the courtyard to the gate. His breath came in grunts and gasps, and his sword banged uncomfortably at his side with each step, but he pressed on.
"Come on, we are almost there!" he managed to gasp out. "Keep runn-" but his words were cut off, as the gate swung inward with a heavy crash, and a plume of dust. Evron stopped short of the gate, and the other 3 men nearly ran into him. Outside the gate was a battering ram, and 5 battalions of soldiers, under a familiar banner. It was, in fact, the banner of the Council of Lords, black as night with one long stripe of crimson red stretching from one diagonal to the other.
Already the garrison had rushed out of the deadly fire of the catapults and into the hands of the Council's soldiers. There was terror and consternation in the air as, under a withering fire from the walls, the soldiers explained the situation to the leader of the newly arrived troops.
That leader was Sir Denvoir, the very commander who had a couple nights before deserted Lord Arsoth and journeyed with his two hundred men to capture Lord Traius. He turned purple with rage upon hearing of Lord Traius' ruthless slaughter of the garrison. Already over two hundred had fallen at the hands of the catapults.
Sir Denvoir ordered the disordered garrison to retreat beyond the range of the weapons on the wall; then, upon seeing the convicts, he determined to question them briefly as to how they had come to be with the garrison.
Evron began to explain how the four, imprisoned under Lord Drakin, were released by Lord Traius for the purpose of slaying the garrison, but Sir Denvoir held up his hand.
"You were imprisoned by Lord Drakin?" he asked in a tone of anger.
"Yes, commander."
"And you still had the audacity to escape your confinement?"
"We had little choice, my –"
"Silence!" yelled Sir Denvoir. "For violating your lawful sentences, you shall all die."
A gasp arose from all present. They little expected the convicts' brave deed would earn such a reception.
Sir Denvoir rose to quickly deal the blow with his sword, but the soldiers from the garrison intervened."These men are the cause for our escape!" said one of the captains. "If it weren't for their brave action of breaking open the door, we would not be alive."
Sir Denvoir paused, his sword in hand. "Very well. The Council shall give you pardon for your offense. Let us off to the attack! I have little time to spare on such small matters."
The four men breathed a sigh of relief, but the garrison instantly stiffened.
"Do you mean to say, Sir Denvoir," said the same captain, "that we are going back into the castle?"
"Of course! My orders are to capture the traitor Lord Traius, and your orders are to guard that castle. Seeing that we both have unfulfilled duties, I think it wise that we return."
Another soldier stood forward. "But how are we to get in? The best we could do is make the courtyard, and there the two gates that lead further into the city are barred and locked. It would be certain death with so few of us!"
Sir Denvoir paused for a moment, lost in thought. He was an evil man, but he had a courageous sense of duty. He knew that, no matter the cost, he must remove that scourge of the land – that villain Traius. Still, how could he go up against such odds? The fact was, he couldn't. If only the other gates could be felled, there would yet be a chance.
Suddenly, Evron gave a shout. "I have it!" he cried. "Britton!"

That's LONG! Uh, I need someone to talk to on Social Chatting #3, could you hop over there?

("The Prince of the Fallen: A Tale of the Nobles of Alavaria," currently contains 35,125 words (the average length for books of this type). Great job, everyone! :) )

(Wow that's awesome! I love the name. :))

( But it won?!?!?!)

(People do things they regret. Lol

DOES ANYONE HAVE ANYMORE NAME SUGGESTIONS PLZ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?)

( I don't like that name either but it shouldn't be like that! Anyway, were going to have another poll…..

ONe name that I like for Rowan is Daniel. )

(Yeah only it's so… Modern like. What do you think of the names Gavin or Payton for Rowan??)

(Payton sounds like a girl name… :P)

(True.)

(I do like it though… :P)

(I like them, but I think Gavin is also a major character in Mr. Black's books. :( )

(awww.:( )

(Uahhhhh. goes to other link and keeps looking)

(Is Ronan too close? How about Trian?)

Perhaps, Rawn?

(Hmmm)

(Would anyone like to add? Thinking of names is fun, but it is really of no use if we don't finish. :) )

I haven't read enough to be able to add little Easter Eggs like the rest of y'all can. Keep going though. If you ever cut to another, totally new place, that will impact events happening in what we've written now, I can add then.

(You should read it. :))

(You should read it when u get the chance. :))

I probably will, when I go to Florida next week. I'll be at the hotel all day, with a lot of time on my Ninja/Jedi hands.

(Yeah, I will. And watch Star Wars, and FINALLY get caught up in my SS, and read comics, and…..)

(Oh yeah I haven't done my SS yet today… I was cleaning out my closet. :) lol)

(For the whole day? But then…………you are a girl………………and girls tend to fill their closets more than guys do.)

(Well I was at swim from 8 to 10 in the morning then I came home and ate and I had to eat Lunch and I've been off and on here… So yeah pretty much all day. :P it's not that I have a lot of clothes even I just stuff random junk I there and I have a whole bunch of shelves soo… :) yeah. Lol)

(I have a sort of shelf above the hangar bar in my closet (basically a long metal platform), that I put 4 small shelves on for books.

Wow, I think we're even more off-topic than Madi.)

(Oh yeah we can switch this over to S.C. #3 with our space/eBay conversation :) lol)