by Chuck Black
Praise for
The Kingdom Series
“Quite simply, the Kingdom Series is brilliant. Chuck’s allegorical tales have provided a fresh light with which to illuminate biblical narratives, and because of his words, I have been left challenged, encouraged, and enlightened.”
—LINDSAY, age 23
“I cannot wait until I can buy the last three of the series! Your books really inspire me to fight for the King and have helped me to grow closer to God. I cannot thank you enough for that. The King reigns—and His Son!”
—ETHAN, age 11
“These are my absolute favorite books. They are filled with nonstop action, adventure, and the Word of the Lord all in one. My friends love the books too!”
—KELSEY, age 13
“The Kingdom Series is a wonderful way to introduce discussions of the end times, as well as to encourage us to be ready servants and prepared knights for our King. On a spiritual level and on an allegorically literary level, this is an outstanding series of books to consider.”
—KRIS, The Book Peddler
“This is an awesome product with great appeal without involving the use of ‘magic.’ This series inspires believers to fulfill their call and opened up great discussions with our home-schooling group. My son kept asking for more, so we also read it aloud as a family, and it made for many pleasant evenings snuggling on the couch reading together!”
—JULIE
Look for other books in the Kingdom Series:
Kingdom’s Dawn (Book One)
Kingdom’s Hope (Book Two)
Kingdom’s Edge (Book Three)
Kingdom’s Call (Book Four)
Kingdom’s Reign (Book Six)
KINGDOM’S QUEST
PUBLISHED BY MULTNOMAH BOOKS
12265 Oracle Boulevard, Suite 200
Colorado Springs, Colorado 80921
A division of Random House Inc.
All Scripture quotations and paraphrases are taken from the New King James
Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson Inc. Used by permission.
All rights reserved.
The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.
Copyright © 2007 by Chuck Black
“Ballad of the Prince” music and lyrics copyright © 2006 by Emily Elizabeth Black
Illustrations by Marcella Johnson, copyright © 2006 Perfect Praise Publishing
Published in association with The Steve Laube Agency, LLC, 5501 North Seventh Avenue, #502, Phoenix, AZ 85013
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
MULTNOMAH is a trademark of Multnomah Books and is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office. The colophon is a trademark of Multnomah Books.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Black, Chuck.
Kingdom’s quest / Chuck Black. — 1st ed.
p. cm. — (The kingdom series; bk. 5)
eISBN: 978-0-307-56186-2
I. Title.
PS3602.L264K573 2007
813’.6—dc22.
2007000509
v3.1
To the future generations of saints.
May you boldly take up your sword
and follow Jesus!
Contents
Cover
Other Books by This Series
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Map
Prologue: Bastion of Evil
Chapter 1: A Knight’s Return
Chapter 2: A Journey of Will
Chapter 3: Blackness of a Shadow
Chapter 4: Chains of Despair
Chapter 5: The Executioner
Chapter 6: Healing the Fair of Heart
Chapter 7: The Dungeons of Penwell
Chapter 8: Court of the Lords
Chapter 9: Tournament of Death
Chapter 10: Old Master
Chapter 11: A Knight’s Farewell
Chapter 12: Tempests!
Chapter 13: The Isles of Melogne
Chapter 14: A Princess Yet to Be
Chapter 15: Ancient Enemies
Chapter 16: Kindred Quests
Epilogue: Final Dawn
Discussion Questions
Answers to Discussion Questions
“Ballad of the Prince”: written for Kingdom’s Quest
Author’s Commentary
© Chuck Black
BASTION OF EVIL
I am Cedric of Chessington, Knight of the Prince and humble servant of the same. I have heard the tales of a hundred mighty men and seen the flashing blades of a thousand more. Though I am wholly undeserving of the favor of the King and His noble Son, here I sit, ready to fight for the Prince against the approaching evil forces of the Dark Knight and his Shadow Warriors. I am not worthy, but the Prince has made me so, for He lifted me from the depths of peasantry and made me a son … a knight to carry the brilliant sword of His Code and the truth of His sacrifice for the people to the far reaches of the kingdom. In your corner of the kingdom, I can only hope that the feeble words of my story might light upon your ears and bring understanding of the great significance of the majestic Prince and His mission to save the people.
Perhaps you have joined me in times past to hear the story of one much greater than I … the gallant Sir Gavinaugh. From my heart I tell the truth—no mortal man born in Arrethtrae has served the King and the Prince with more zeal than he. As a persecutor of the Knights of the Prince, his remarkable encounter with the Prince Himself transformed his passionate course of destruction into a beacon of light that burned brighter than the fires in the caverns of Sedah. My time of service to the Prince in the coming great battle is near, but the tale of the gallant Sir Gavinaugh must be told, for his work in this land was powerful and his influence great. He was trained and knighted near the Crimson River by the Prince Himself.
He faced a kingdom of enemies and skeptics, but his passion was not hindered, for the power of the Prince was strong in his heart, and his sword was now the sword of truth and justice. His was a quest to save a kingdom in chaos—a quest like no other!
A KNIGHT’S RETURN
Gavinaugh looked across the Brimshire Plains to the Boundary Mountains. He then turned and scanned northward toward Cameria, and finally west to the Forest of Renault and beyond where the Chessington Valley, Kesson’s Territory, and the Great Sea lay. All he had really known was the city of Chessington and the surrounding regions, but his mind was slowly awakening to the enormity of the kingdom and his mission to reach all lands and all people with the story of the Prince.
Gavinaugh filled his lungs with the sweet, crisp morning air of the country and felt small. He slowly shook his head.
“You are troubled,” the Prince said as He stood before Gavinaugh, ready to mount His steed.
“I am but one, my Lord, and I ache to reach all of Arrethtrae. I worry that my legs might not endure and the days of my life might not be numerous enough to reach them all. Where do I start?” He looked upon the royal face of the Prince.
The Prince smiled. “You start and end with Me, Gavinaugh. You are responsible for your service to Me, not for the decisions of others. Fulfill your duty one day at a time, and leave the outcome in My hands.”
Gavinaugh understood and nodded.
“Your fellow knights do not trust you. Your journey to the ends of the kingdom must first pass through Chessington. They need to know that you are truly a Knight of the Prince.”
“Yes, my Lor
d. But how am I to travel—”
The Prince held up His hand to silence him.
Gavinaugh knew that the Prince could hear something he could not. He strained to listen. A moment later he not only heard the rumble but felt the pounding in the earth of hundreds of horses. Out of the north he saw the growing mass of a mighty army approaching. He felt a swell of anxiety in his stomach and began to draw his sword.
“They are Mine,” the Prince said as He mounted His steed.
He looked down at Gavinaugh, and in that moment Gavinaugh felt the gaze of a King upon him. Soon an army of mighty warriors enveloped them. They saluted the Prince and waited in silence for His command. The Prince’s horse reared, and He led the force southward to the Great Sea. As the massive steeds and their riders passed by on each side, Gavinaugh recognized one warrior among them. Porunth broke off from the rest and came to him.
“You look well, my friend.” Porunth smiled as he spoke above the thundering sound. The last of the warriors passed like a rush of wind, and the sound of beating hooves quickly diminished.
“I am well … Finally, I am well.” Gavinaugh returned the smile.
Porunth nodded. “You have partaken of the character of the Prince. It is easy to tell when one has been with Him.”
“I am humbly grateful and a privileged man.”
“As are we all.” Porunth looked toward his retreating force. “May your travels be fair and your battles sure, Sir Gavinaugh.”
“And yours, good sir,” Gavinaugh said. “You don’t perhaps have an extra horse about, do you?”
“Strange you should ask,” Porunth said. “You are not the only one who has skirted death.” He smiled again and bolted away toward his army without another word.
Gavinaugh was confused, but he was learning that the messages of the Silent Warriors were oftentimes more like riddles. He watched the Prince’s army diminish in the distance.
“I guess my travels will begin on foot,” he said aloud and looked toward the forest from which he had come weeks earlier.
Just then a horse neighed loudly a short distance behind him, and Gavinaugh nearly jumped out of his armor. He turned to see a sight that delighted his soul.
“Triumph?”
He ran to the horse and could hardly contain his joy. “Triumph … it is you! How can this possibly be?”
Triumph seemed pleased to see Gavinaugh as well. He stroked the horse’s neck and felt as though they were once again a team. In examining the horse, he noticed the scar on Triumph’s shoulder, but otherwise he seemed healthy and whole.
He mounted Triumph and looked forward to his course back home.
After many days of traveling, Gavinaugh arrived in the Chessington Valley. He timed his arrival at dusk, for he was unsure of the status of the city and of the Noble Knights. He knew he must face Kifus one day, but now was not the time, for such an encounter would only hinder his call to the greater purpose of life.
He took the back alleyways to the home of a man named Tarill. He dismounted and knocked quietly at the back door, as he had done many times before. The door opened slightly, and a stout-looking man with a scraggly beard peered out.
“What in the …” The man opened the door to allow Gavinaugh entrance and then looked outside after him to confirm that no one was watching. He quickly closed and locked the door and turned to face Gavinaugh. This was no joyous reunion.
“I heard you were dead … or worse,” Tarill said bluntly.
Gavinaugh did not respond. He produced a small bag that jingled with coins. “Where do they meet now?”
Tarill laughed. “So you’ve come to finish the job you started, eh? I guess I know which rumors to believe.”
Gavinaugh was becoming uncomfortable, for here in the home of his old informant he was dramatically facing the reality of his former life.
“Just tell me the location, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Double the fee, and I will hand their leaders to you on a silver platter!” Tarill seemed thrilled with the prospect.
“How so?”
“An acquaintance of mine has gained the trust of two of their leaders, Barrett and William. He told me that there is a meeting arranged with one of the Followers from an Outdweller haven. With a little persuasion I can convince him to tell me the location. You and your men could take them with ease.”
Gavinaugh thought for a moment and realized that this would be his best opportunity to reach the Knights of the Prince.
“Very well. I will agree on one condition. No one else, not even the Noble Knights, are to be told. Is that clear?”
Tarill’s eyes narrowed. “All right, I can agree to that. What have you got up your sleeve, Gavin?”
Gavinaugh looked at the man fiercely. “If you betray me, Tarill, my next hunt will be for you.”
Gavinaugh paid the man and left.
Two nights later, Gavinaugh cautiously approached a shop in the northern part of Chessington. He found an alcove and watched from the shadows of the night. The air was thick and still. He spotted the door that led to the chamber where the meeting was to be. The sounds of a city settling down for the night mixed with the chirp of crickets and an occasional barking hound. He was apprehensive, for he was not completely confident that Tarill could be trusted. He was a man who made his living on deception and on bartering one deal for another. Loyalty was not part of his character. Even if Tarill chose not to betray him, Gavinaugh wasn’t sure how the Knights of the Prince would respond to him. Although he carried his sword, he knew that he could never draw it upon a fellow Knight of the Prince, even if it meant the end of his life.
After a long wait, Gavinaugh was fairly confident that no one was nearby. He walked to the door. He looked up and down the alley one more time, took a deep breath, then opened the door and stepped inside.
As he closed the door, his back was to the room.
“Finally, you’ve arrived,” a man said.
Gavinaugh turned and faced the men.
“Were you delayed, Sir—”
Before him stood two men in tunics bearing the mark of the Prince. One was a bit shorter and nearly bald. Gavinaugh immediately recognized the taller, dark-haired knight as one of the first men he captured a long time ago. Gavinaugh had questioned him in the cells of the prison. The recognition was mutual, as evidenced by the look of shock on the man’s face.
Both men immediately drew their swords and looked to the doors of the shop, apparently expecting a full ambush to crush down upon them.
Gavinaugh held up his hand. “I am alone, gentlemen. Please do not be alarmed.”
The tension in the room was thick. Both men were poised in a fight-ready stance. Gavinaugh wondered if they would run him through and flee, but they did not attack.
The shorter man slowly moved to the front door.
“Check the street,” the taller man said.
The other man opened the door a crack. “Two Noble Knights!” he said in a hushed tone.
“They are not with me. I didn’t come to fight you. Please believe me,” Gavinaugh said.
The two men gripped their swords tighter and took a step toward Gavinaugh.
“You are Sir Gavin, the Tyrant of Chessington. Why should we believe you?” the taller man said as he pointed his sword at him.
Just then the door behind Gavinaugh began to open, and dread filled his heart.
Tarill must have betrayed me! He turned toward the door and drew his sword. Only then did he realize his error. He was in the presence of men who regarded him as an enemy. With his sword in his hand, their perception was undeniable.
“It’s a trick!” the shorter man exclaimed.
As they rushed upon Gavinaugh, he turned to face them and lowered his sword. The two men brought their swords back to strike. For a moment Gavinaugh wondered if his mission would be over before it began, but they did not finish their attack. It seemed to Gavinaugh as though they could not attack one who would not defend himself.
“W
e are among friends, gentlemen. Please lower your swords,” a familiar voice said from behind Gavinaugh.
A Knight of the Prince entered and stood among the odd trio. The tension in the room abated somewhat.
“Weston, this is Gavin, the Noble Knight. He is here to either kill or capture us!”
“No, Sir William. I can assure you that he is not here for that,” Weston replied.
The two men were clearly struggling with seeing Gavinaugh as anything but a ruthless persecutor of the Followers of the Prince. They did not lower their swords.
Weston walked between his friends and Gavinaugh. He turned his back to Gavinaugh and opened his arms to the two knights. Now their swords were pointed at Weston’s chest.
“He is a fellow Knight of the Prince. I give you my life as my word.” They lowered their swords but did not appear convinced. Gavinaugh sheathed his sword.
“Barrett, check the door again,” William said.
“All clear,” Barrett replied.
Weston turned to face Gavinaugh, and the two embraced. “It is good to see you again, my friend.”
“And you,” he replied. “Your timing is impeccable.”
“Sir William, Sir Barrett, meet Sir Gavinaugh of Chessington,” Weston said.
With a sober heart, Gavinaugh spoke. “I have caused you and many others great suffering, and for that I am truly sorry. Were it not for the transforming power of the Prince, I would not be standing before you this evening. Please know that my heart beats with the sole purpose of proclaiming the Prince as the true Son of the King. I join my sword and my life to yours in this great mission.”
Gavinaugh extended his left hand. William hesitated and then took it.
“The ways of the Prince are for everyone, even for one such as you,” William said, and Gavinaugh remembered William speaking those words from long ago when he thought William to be a crazy man.
Barrett also accepted Gavinaugh’s hand.
“I am no longer Gavin of Chessington, but Gavinaugh of Arrethtrae, for the Prince has made all things new in me. I apologize for the abrupt meeting, good sirs. My association with the Knights of the Prince is rather limited at this time, and I had no other way to contact you.”
