Knights of the Three Kingdoms- Volume 1 Page 4

  “Nay, more like war cries.”

  “Prepare the men. Surround the camp.” Sir Vladimir ordered.

  He turned in the direction of his large tent and paused when Sir Braden shouted.

  “Hold!”

  Sir Vladimir turned and his eyes broadened. From the Green forest came out a group of warriors that were shirtless. Some wore animal skin as clothing. They were armed. Hundreds that seemed to be in the thousands, marching towards the camp.

  “By bloody gods.” Sir Vladimir mumbled through gritted teeth. “Hordes! Savages of barbarians! Knights, protect the camp!” He ordered.

  The knights quickly grabbed their swords and spears as the barbarians continued to march towards the camp. In their eyes showed a rage of blood thirst. Sir Vladimir pulled his sword out from its sheath. Suddenly, the barbarians yelled as they charged forward towards the camp. The knights charged towards the barbarians. Their weapons clashed with the barbarians. Sir Vladimir swung his sword from left to right, cutting through the bodies of the barbarians. The grass was stained in red as the bodies from the barbarians fell motionless to the ground.

  Sir Braden thrust his sword forward, piercing his assailant in his stomach… He turned and swung his sword around, slicing anyone who was around him. He looked around and saw some of the knights had fall a victim to the barbarians’ battle axes and clubs

  Sir Vladimir raised his sword above his head with both hands and swung the blade down on top of the head of a barbarian, splitting his head like a melon. Another barbarian assailant approached and thrust a spear at him. Sir Vladimir quickly swung his arming sword in a downward crescent, parrying the spear away from his midsection. He quickly turned his back towards the assailant while thrusting his sword behind him, stabbing the assailant in his midsection. Sir Vladimir snatched the sword out while turning his body around and raising his sword above his head. He swung the sword down, slicing the assailant’s neck. He watched the head instantly roll off from the stump of the assailant’s neck.

  Sir Vladimir slid his arming sword back in its sheath and grabbed a bow and arrows that were on the ground near the motionless body of a knight. He aimed the bow and arrow at the barbarians and pulled the string back, firing arrows rapidly at them. The arrows cut blindly in the air, finding its mark in the necks and chests of the barbarian warriors. He continued to place the arrow on the bow quickly firing the arrow at them one by one as each barbarian he aimed his arrow at, fell a victim.

  Suddenly and without warning, a barbarian approached from Vladimir’s rear on horseback. He swung the noose of a rope around Vladimir’s neck and pulled on the rope. The noose quickly tightened around Vladimir’s neck. Sir Vladimir gritted his teeth and his hands instantly clenched around the thick noose. The barbarian forced the horse to sprint, dragging Vladimir on his back.

  Sir Vladimir’s body twirled across the grass and soon, on the rocks as the barbarian continued on his horse to sprint away from the campsite. Vladimir’s body twisted and turned as he gagged for air, desperately trying to tear the noose from his neck. He failed. The horse sprinted over a hill, dragging Vladimir’s body along. Vladimir reached for his dagger that was sheath on his belt. He grabbed the handle and snatched the dagger out. He quickly slid the sharp blade on the noose while gritting his teeth with his eyes closed squint.

  Finally, the blade cut the noose freely from his neck. His body rolled and tumbled forward until his body stopped. Sir Vladimir slowly stood, dazed from the motion of tumbling and twirling. His body, bruised and sore. He staggered forward and paused. The barbarian turned the horse around and he drew his sword out. He forced the horse to charge forward towards Vladimir.

  Sir Vladimir twirled the dagger in his hand and threw it forward. The blade found its mark directly in the center of the horse’s neck. The horse gnarled and collapsed forward, forcing the barbarian to fall from the dead horse. The barbarian warrior crawled on his knees, reached for his fallen sword… grabbed the handle and stood with his sword in his hand. Sir Vladimir pulled his sword out from its sheath. He noticed his surroundings… stones and trees around. He was far away from the campsite. The barbarian warrior approached and paused. He held his blade in his right hand while standing forward with his left hand held out in front of him, in his sword stance.

  Sir Vladimir bent his right knee while stretching his left leg back, pointing the tip of his blade forward at the barbarian. His eyes glued to the barbarian’s movements. The barbarian shifted his body sideways while holding his blade up to his face with the tip of the sword pointing at Vladimir. Sir Vladimir stood erect and sideways while drawing his sword down at his side with the blade pointing to the ground. The barbarian shifted his body forward with the sword across his waistline. Sir Vladimir now held his sword outward to his right side, and the barbarian lifted his sword above his head. Sir Vladimir slowly moved his sword up above his head and slowly moved it down to the center with both hands on the handle, pointing the sword at the barbarian.

  The barbarian warrior charged forward while yelling. He swung the sword in a chopping motion. Sir Vladimir met the warrior’s blade with his, as their swords clashed. Sir Vladimir swung his sword across is body to his left, and the warrior shifted his body with his sword in his hand, blocking Vladimir’s attack. Sir Vladimir swung the sword across is body to his right, and the warrior blocked Vladimir’s attack with his sword. Sir Vladimir now swung the sword towards the warrior’s right leg, and the warrior swiftly moved his sword down, blocking Vladimir’s attack.

  Sir Vladimir instantly lifted his sword up and swung it down at the warrior’s face. The warrior raised his blade sideways, and blocked Vladimir’s blade from cutting his flesh. Sir Vladimir quickly sprung backwards, creating distance between them. He now spun his sword around in a circular motion in front of him. He spun his body around and lifted his sword above his head. He stepped forward with an overhead slash, forcing the warrior to raise his sword up and deflect Sir Vladimir’s attack.

  The warrior now swung his blade sideways, forcing Vladimir to move his sword to the side of him and block the warrior’s blade. The warrior quickly swung his sword in front of him to his left side, forcing Vladimir to move his sword to the across from his body and block the warrior’s blade. Their blades clashed, and Sir Vladimir quickly moved his sword downward, forcing the warrior’s blade to move downward in a circular motion to his left. Sir Vladimir turned his back towards the warrior and thrust his sword behind him, stabbing the warrior in his stomach.

  He instantly snatched the blade out from the warrior’s stomach while turning his body around with his sword rose above his head. The warrior that was now wounded collapsed to his knee while Vladimir stood over him with his sword. He swung his sword downward in an angle, slicing the warrior across from his collarbone to his chest. The warrior instantly fell forward motionless to the ground. Sir Vladimir stepped to the side of the dead warrior with his sword pointed to his side outward towards the ground. The blood from the warrior slowly trailed down the blade of Vladimir’s sword.

  Sir Vladimir slid his sword back in its sheath and looked around. He noticed that he was far away from the campsite. The land was strange to him. He exhaled and slowly walked forward, following a trail…

  Sir Braden scanned the campsite, viewing the bodies of the barbarians and some of the fallen knights. Sir Keffer approached.

  “The barbarians have been defeated! It’s like a slaughter house in these fields! What should we do?”

  “Leave the bodies for the buzzards to feed! Sir Vladimir…? Where is he?”

  “I… I don’t know? Gods… I hope he isn’t amongst the fallen ones!”

  “Search the bodies! If his body isn’t amongst the ones that have fallen, then he’s alive!” Sir Braden ordered.

  Long hours seemed to past as Sir Vladimir continued to follow a strange trail. He paused. Body sore… mouth dried from thirst. Up ahead, he saw a town-like village. His jaws clenched. Was this village belonged to the Paladins or the Cast
ilians, he wondered? He proceeded down the trail to the town-like village. He entered the village and continued to follow the trail that was dirt blended with mud. He noticed shops were around as steam from the wells rose. There were villagers standing around. They stopped what they were doing and all eyes were glued to him. Clearly he was a stranger amongst them. He saw a tavern up ahead.

  Sir Vladimir stepped inside the tavern. He looked around as he saw many of the villagers sitting at the wooden tables drinking ale. He approached the innkeeper at the bar counter.

  “What village is this?” He asked.

  The innkeeper blinked. His face was covered with a black beard.

  “This is the village-town of Peteonia.”

  Sir Vladimir nodded as he drew his attention at the people in the bar. He noticed a woman sitting by herself drinking a mug of ale. The woman’s hair was as dark as charcoal and hung like springs down over her shoulder and back. She wore a red scarf tired, covering the top of her head. The innkeeper’s eyes scanned Sir Vladimir…

  “You look as if you just fought a battle.”

  “Give me your best of ale.” Sir Vladimir said while he laid coins on the counter top.

  The innkeeper collected the coins and walked away. He returned with a mug of ale.

  “The best in this tavern. You’re a stranger…”

  “More like a traveler.” Sir Vladimir said.

  “Where is your destiny, if I may ask?”

  Sir Vladimir lowered the mug from his lips. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a map. He unfolded it and spread it over the table.

  “I’m looking for the Fire Mountain… there’s an ambulant that I seek. An ambulant called, Abaddon.”

  The innkeeper slowly shook his head while his eyes never left the map.

  “Never heard of this ambulant… nor of a place called Fire Mountain.”

  “It is not a place… more like a mountain with brimstone.” Sir Vladimir folded the map and slid it inside his pocket.

  He gulped down the ale while wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

  “By the way,” he said, “I had better ale then this.” His lips slightly twisted into a smirk while walking away out of the tavern.

  Sir Vladimir glanced around the town-like village. He turned and walked away from the tavern. At that moment, he felt a strong presence behind him. Before he could turn around, he felt a heavy blow to the back of his head. His vision was now blank as his face landed in the muddy dirt. Ears alert as he heard a strange feminine voice.

  “Take him to the ship.”

  The campsite…

  Sir Braden stood motionless in the middle of the camp. A knight approached.

  “Lord, we’ve turn over every corpse. Not a sight of Sir Vladimir’s body around.”

  Sir Braden gave out a long sigh.

  “Did he get lost in the mist of battle?” The knight asked. “Or was he captured?”

  “Hard to say. We send out a search party, and then we continue with our journey.”

  “Without Sir Vladimir?”

  “Aye. If we can’t find him… it would be his wishes. I have a copy of the map.”

  Chapter 5

  Merlin’s castle…

  The Castilians Knights waited outside of the castle, while Sir Alexander stood in the chambers, waiting for Merlin. The door opened that drew Alexander’s eyes up the spiraled brick steps where Merlin entered. He watched the old enchanted wizard walked down the steps in a green robe with white stars and crescent moons decorated on his robe. He wore a cone hat that matched the color of his robe. His long hair was straight and white as snow, the same as his beard that hung long to his chest, and too, was white as snow. He reached the last step of the stairs and stepped into the chambers that were lit by torches on the walls.

  “Merlin… I have come as you requested.”

  “Yes; young knight. I am in need of your help.”

  “What is it that you ask of me?”

  “I am aware that you already know what I seek.”

  “The ambulant…?”

  “The Abaddon.”

  “What of this ambulant? Where can it be found?”

  “Its true essence is unknown. Where it came from… it simply fell from the heavens.”

  “Why did it fall from the heavens?” Sir Alexander asked.

  He watched Merlin walked over to the round table where it was covered with a white long cloth. On the table was a large thick book that was opened. Above the book was a unlit candle.

  “Reasons, no one knows young knight.”

  “The creed of this ambulant, I have heard but yet, not sure of its true power?”

  “You sound as if you have doubts about the Abaddon?”

  “I don’t understand…”

  At that moment, Merlin waved his hand forward, and a gulf of flame lit the stem of the candle. Sir Alexander’s eyes widen in shock.

  “Its nature is unknown… its power is unmatched and if fallen to the wrong hands, the lands will be split or united in the wrong spirit. The Abaddon must be in its rightful place… I wish to have it… understand it. The Castilians have been fighting a war for forty years with the Paladins and the Oracles Knights. The land is filled with bloodshed.”

  “If I find this ambulant, what must I do? How can I command its powers?”

  “One must have good faith in it… a cursed heart could lead to a cursed soul… The ambulant feels the nature of one’s essence. With one thought, of the ambulant in thou hands, one could unlevel the lands and crumble mountains. Engulf the sea in flames! Dishevel the winds in which can uproot the trees from the earth.”

  “Where can this ambulant be found?”

  “It is hidden… buried under the core of earth. It is within the Mountain of Fire.”

  “But how can one retrieve this ambulant when it’s surrounded by fire?”

  “There is a way… a safe passage that will lead you astray from the river of fire. The mountain is far from the corners of the earth. I will be your guide in mind and soul. Once you have retrieved the Abaddon, return to my castle where these chaotic times can end.”

  “This ambulant… I heard it’s more powerful than Excalibur!”

  “None can match its power. Not even the Lady of the Lake in which she holds the Excalibur.”

  Sir Alexander lowered his eyes in debate. He slowly lifted his eyes as Merlin continued to speak.

  “I trust that you will achieve the Abaddon before your brothers claim it. During your journey, it will not be an easy task. You will face great danger. Amongst your travels, you must capture the head of the Syricus.”

  “What is this Syricus?”

  “A legendary curse of a woman far before our times. Be warn not to look into her gaze… for you shall surly be turned into the embodiment of crystals…”

  The Castilians Knights continued to wait. Suddenly, the drawbridge lowered, and Sir Alexander walked forward to the knights. Sir Godfrey stepped forward.

  “My lord…?”

  “Merlin has spoken. We continue with our journey in search for this ambulant called, Abaddon.”

  Sir Alexander and the Castilians Knights now marched through the swampy mash as they traveled miles away from Merlin’s castle. The swampy area was quiet. Nothing but tall trees that were covered in vines stood around. Sir Godfrey walked next to Alexander.

  “It’s hard to travel in this mash.” Sir Godfrey complained.

  “Aye, but it’s the only way. Stay alert. We know not what lurks in this cursed swamp.”

  The knights continued as one them slapped the back of his own neck from a large insect that bit him. Sir Alexander continued forward… eyes moving from side to side, viewing everything in front of him. Suddenly, the knights paused when they heard an unmitigated cry of anger that gave a cacophony echo in the swamp. The knights drew their arming swords out from their sheaths. Sir Alexander stuck out his right hand outward, signaling the knights to remain calm but alert. No one moved… no one dared to move.
Only their eyes moved from side to side. Their swords in their hands, ready to strike anything that seemed threatening.

  “That cry… what was it…? Where did it come from…?” Sir Godfrey asked with a mumble.

  “I know not where it came from.” Sir Alexander answered while his eyes continued to dance from side to side. “However, I do know that it was not a cry from a man nor a woman… It was an unearthly cry.” He cut his eyes sharply to his right. “Scouts… flank west and east.”

  Twelve knights scattered. Six flanked west and the other six flanked east. The knights slowly traveled east through the swamp. They searched with their eyes. Nothing seemed uncanny. The knights looked around as they continued east.

  West… The six knights searched. The area was quiet and still… nothing moved except the knights that traveled cautiously through the swamp. The cold mist of air sent chills crawling up their spines underneath their armor. The knights continued and suddenly, one of the knights quickly drew his bow and arrow and aimed it to his left, shooting an arrow in blinding speed, only striking the bark of a tree in which a huge toad that was three-feet, leaped off of a branch that was connected to the tree. The toad leaped into the swampy pond.

  Sir Henry shook his head.

  “Nothing but a god earthly creature of the swamps.”

  He drew his attention forward and the knights continued to search.

  East… The six knights searched the area. All remained quiet. Sir Fredrick was positioned in the front as the knights traveled. They quickly paused and looked up as the large bird-like bats squealed while their large wings flapped in the air, while the sunlight crept through the leaves, shining on them.

  “Swamp bats.” Sir Fredrick mumbled. “Nothing to be alarmed of.”

  The knights continued. Suddenly, something large emerged from the swamp with arms stretched out and massive hands quickly grabbing the last knight from behind, forcing him off from his feet as he splashed deep into the swamp. The five knights quickly turned around in shock.

  “Sir Richard! Sir Richard!” The knights called out.