The Quest of the Legend (Dark Legacy Book 1)

by A. J. Cronin

  Tristan peers into Lisa’s eyes, followed by those of the bards briefly before setting his sight back on the road before him, ignoring the question. Both Lisa and Amy sigh in grief, loudly as to make Tristan aware of their unwillingness to accept his silence. Tristan shifts in his saddle.

  “What I know of the Black Knight, you would not want to. Keep your fantasies and fairy tales while you can, Your Highness.”

  “When you were thinking up that answer, did you honestly believe that it would make you any less mysterious?” Amy asks rhetorically.

  “Tell us what you know,” Lisa says softly.

  A tense moment passes as a look of anguish crosses Tristan’s face.

  “The Black Knight was not always some altruistic defender of the people,” he finally responds. “ In fact, in the legends I know, he was once the most evil, vile thing to walk the planet. I for one would want nothing to do with him.”

  Lisa and the bards stare at one another. The bluntness of the remark taking even Cale by surprise. Lisa’s face becomes flush with anger and sadness.

  “Why would you say such a thing?” she demands.

  “Why do you care?” Tristan replies callously

  “Because I met him! When I was a little girl, I met him and saw absolutely no sign of the man you now describe!”

  Tristan faces Lisa again, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. He thinks to say something but instead he remains silent, returning his eyes to the road.

  “Wait, I thought you said your father met him,” Cale points out.

  “More than met him. They were friends. I, however, only met him once that I can remember.” Lisa looks at Tristan, her eyes cold and dark, “I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but good in his heart.”

  Tristan refrains from looking at Lisa again, but everyone can see the sneer on his face.

  “Maybe I know first hand which is the truth?” he says darkly.

  “Any maybe you are a liar,” replies Lisa with equal measure.

  “Can you prove me wrong, Your Highness?”

  “I can tell you one of the stories my father told me about the Black Knight, which he learned from the man himself!”

  “Then by all means, do.”

  And thus, the proverbial gauntlet is thrown down.

  Chapter Four

  The Legend of the Black Knight and the Mountain

  The city of Sumestra, a city of artists, of writers and of architects. Sumestra was obscure even in the best of times, and this was how the people liked it. They could work their skill, masters of their forms and slaves only to their passion for their respective crafts. That was, of course, until it was discovered by accident that they sat atop veins of gold and mines of diamonds. Overnight, the existing population changed their occupations, forsaking their art for the sake of riches.

  News of Sumestra’s windfall did not take long to reach the ears of foreigners, and soon the great influx of them causes Sumestra’s populace to double, then triple and then quadruple in a matter of months. Despite their greed, the citizens never have to resort to violence. Even with their ever increasing population, it seems that there is always more than enough to go around.

  This changes drastically on one dark and stormy day.

  A group of thirteen men enter Sumestra on foot. They are not ordinary men, however. They are wizards. Dark wizards.

  The dark wizards use their magics to seize control of the city. They gather the people into the center square of Sumestra. While five of the dark wizards act as guards, threatening to kill any Sumestrians who so much as sneeze in the wrong direction, the other eight start using their magics to gather the riches of the city into the thirteen enchanted carts they have brought with them. The dark wizards laugh as they watch their wealth grow larger with each moment that passes.

  The men of Sumestra, having never seen war, are powerless to act, and are thus forced to endure the cries of their women and children. However, some of the foreigners are a different story. Rather than think of fighting the dark wizards, they do the one thing that they know will work: they pray. They pray fervently, heads raised to the crying heavens, eyes closed.

  “Who is there to pray to, fools!?” scoff the dark wizards. “There is none who can match our power!”

  The foreign ones ignore the dark wizards, continuing their faith-speech.

  The dark ones ignore the fools, continuing to steal the wealth of Sumestra, laughing and mocking. Wizards though they may have been, wisdom was the one thing that they lacked which may have saved them. Had they the slightest bit of wisdom, they would have listened to the prayers of the foreigners and fled at the words.

  But, the wizards were not wise.

  They were not even remotely learned beyond being experts of their dark craft. Had they aspirations other than the committing of fell deeds, they would have known that the prayers of the foreigners were at that moment answered.

  Atop his massive, armored steed, at the entrance to Sumestra, the Black Knight sits, looking at the workings of the dark wizards. The Black Knight, unseen by all, dismounts his animal, leaving it to guard the city entrance while he, the Knight, slowly walks to the city square. The rain pelts his armor, making the surface shimmer with apparent life. The dark wizards continue to be oblivious to the Black Knight, but the Sumestrians see him, starting with the foreigners, who had all along been expecting their hero. The foreigners stand defiantly to face their hero proudly in audacious disobedience to the threats and demands of the dark wizards.

  The wizards, seeing in the eyes of the foreigners no fear, turn to see what their prisoners see. At the sight of the Black Knight, the five guarding dark wizards shout, rousing their brethren from their spellcraft. They all begin hurling elemental magics at the Black Knight, which manifest in the form of red lightning and blue fire. These magics spend themselves on the Black Knight’s armor harmlessly as the metal clad sentinel marches up the road without any form of weapon drawn. The severity of the dark wizard spells increase, but dissipate on contact with the Black Armor. Finding their spells useless against their foe, the wizards form elemental weapons and storm toward the Black Knight.

  As the closest one begins to attack, the Black Knight grabs the sword arm of the dark wizard and throws him against the nearest building. After that, total chaos breaks out, with the Black Knight punching, kicking and throwing his enemies as they come against him. Never does the Knight draw any weapon, for there is no need, since the dark wizards, even with their magical weapons, are not half, not a quarter, not even a tenth of the warrior that the Black Knight is. Before long, the dark wizards are fatigued, beaten, but unwilling to admit defeat. The Black Knight grabs the leader by his robes, lifting him off the ground. The dark wizard spits curses at the Black Knight, but the armored one pays the small words from the small man no heed.

  “As I am a man of honor,” the Black Knight speaks, “I give you your lives, and also give you the opportunity to prove yourselves again, having not expected me. You and your brothers may flee so as to recuperate. Tomorrow, you may return to try and best me again.”

  “And why would we want to do that?” the leader growls.

  “Three chances do I give thee to best me. One have you spent. If in your next attempts, you can defeat me, the riches of this city shall be yours. Inversely, if in your next attempts you do not, you shall leave this city and never shall you return, lest you forfeit your lives back to me. Do we have a bargain?”

  The dark wizard within the grip of the Black Knight starts to reject the proposal, but then a wicked thought springs into his mind. A plan to make an idiot of this Black Knight.

  “Yes,” the wizard answers with a voice like sweet acid. “Yes, we shall agree to your terms, Knight.”

  The Black Knight lowers the wizard, whom smiles broadly at the Black Knight.

  “Tomorrow, at this same time,” the Black Knight reminds. “No earlier, no later.”

  The dark wizard nods in accordance.

  “Brothers, we leave now!
” he calls to the other twelve of his kind.

  They all send their elemental weapons away and slowly, one by one, file out of Sumestra, leaving the enchanted carts they had brought in the square. When the last of the wizards has left their city, the Sumestrians all stand and cheer. The foreigners run up to the Black Knight.

  “We knew you would come!” one shouts.

  “We are friends, from a distant land,” says another.

  The citizens of the city grow louder in their cheering, but the Black Knight raises a hand for silence. He then explains to the people that the dark wizards will be returning in greater numbers so that they can reclaim the treasures of the city. He proceeds to tell the people that he shall replace the stolen riches in the carts with simple rocks. Some of the citizens attempt to remove some of the gold and diamonds from the enchanted carts, but they are unable to do so. The Black Knight then walks over and tells the people that the magics of the wizards do not work on him. He takes a handful of the treasure and gives it to the man closest to him. The people cannot hide their excitement, and they start to form work chains, bringing the Black Knight buckets, some empty, which he fills with their treasures, and some full of dirt and rocks, which he in turn pours into the enchanted carts to replace that which was removed. By command of the Black Knight, Sumestra hides its treasure in a pit on the outskirts of their city, and at the end of this first day, they have succeeded in hiding half of their stolen treasure.

  The following day, when it comes time for the dark wizards to return, the Black Knight orders the citizenry to retreat to their homes and wait.

  The dark wizards enter the city, passing by the Black Knight’s gate guardian, his horse, with an evil eye cast at it, which the animal ignores with the same grit as its master. Their numbers are double what they were the day previous. Unlike before, the wizards come with metal weaponry. But, as before, the Black Knight fights the dark wizards effortlessly without a weapon of his own, other than his own body and his magnificent armor. Even with their increased numbers, the fight has the same outcome. When all of the wizards have been tired out, again, the Black Knight picks up their leader, again.

  “That, my foe, was your second try. Do you concede, or will you make your final attempt tomorrow?” asks the Knight.

  “We will defeat you tomorrow!” the leader declares.

  The Black Knight lets the wizard go, and one by one they all leave the city again to recuperate. The people, at the beckoning of the Black Knight, exit their homes and spend the remainder of the day finishing the task of transferring their treasure out of the wizards’ enchanted carts and replacing the contents. Before sundown, this task is completed.

  On the morn of the third and final day, the Black Knight again orders that the people should seek safety within their homes.

  The Black Knight, alone, waits in the center of Sumestra as he did on the second day. However, when the appointed time comes for the dark wizards to arrive, the city remains empty. At the entrance, the Black Knight’s horse stamps its hooves and wheels around uneasily, it knowing that something in the world is amiss. The Black Knight twirls around in place, looking for some sign of mischief afoot.

  From out of the largest mine in the side of the mountain which sits at the rear of the city, creatures and men of immaculate evil pour fourth abruptly, brandishing rough weapons. Their appearance in such an unexpected place catches the Black Knight by surprise. Their numbers are at least ten times greater than those of the first day. While the Black Knight fights the first warrior-wizards whom attack him, another group made of half-giants make to the enchanted carts, and they carry them into the mine from whence they came. The leader of the dark wizards laughs his evil laugh at the Black Knight as he signals to his brethren the time for them to escape with their ill-gotten treasure. Not a single foe stays to fight the Black Knight, but retreat swiftly back into the safety of the mine.

  Angered, the Black Knight gives chase.

  While running from the Black Knight, the dark wizards send elemental magics at him in an effort to slow him down, only their power bounces from his armor and hits the walls of the mine instead. Deeper into the mine they run, which is lit only by the occasional torch or the magics of the wizards. In the heart of the mountain, the dark wizards, followed by the Black Knight, come into a humongous antechamber, many hundreds of feet around and almost equally as high.

  “You fool!” shouts the leader to the Black Knight. “Are you so blind that you cannot see when you are being led into a trap?”

  All of the evil ones laugh and scoff, but the Black Knight remains composed.

  “Have I indeed?” he responds with a tone of mild surprise, examining the antechamber.

  Then, with a shout, the thirteen original dark wizards combine their magics and send their mingled power at the Black Knight. They expect the magic to utterly obliterate the metal clad one, yet the Black Knight stands firm in the face of his coming demise. As the magic comes into contact with his armor, it is absorbed by the metal, and then erupts like lightning from the earth, flying up and striking the ceiling of the antechamber. Before they can even wonder about thinking about the possibility of running, the whole of the mountain starts to collapse on all who are gathered within. While the dark ones cry in fear, the Black Knight remains rooted in place, positively tranquil.

  Back in the city, the people of Sumestra all let out a collective outcry of anguish as they watch the mountain which they mined their treasures from fall in on itself. When the dust settles, they watch as the Black Knight digs himself out of the fallen mountain. A cheer of victory goes up from the people. The Black Knight walks into their midst, then raises a hand again for silence so as to address the Sumestrians.

  “Those dark of heart had sought to steal the riches of the earth. The earth would not abide this, and thus consumed them. Let he who is wise see the lesson in this. Let she with an ear understand these words.”

  And with that, the Black Knight mounts upon his horse and leaves Sumestra.

  From that day on, the people of Sumestra returned to their passions of old, and never again spent their lives seeking treasure, instead giving to the earth their art, rather than taking it. They also never even so much as thought about retrieving those treasures which they had buried on the orders of their beloved Black Knight, and they were better for it.

  ~-~~-~

  Cale and Amy look at one another, impressed by Lisa’s ability to tell a story. However, it is Tristan’s opinion that they all wait for. Tristan looks at Lisa for a moment, digesting her ‘proof’ and mulling over the words.

  “Do you believe that tale?” he finally asks Lisa.

  “I do,” she replies with utmost feeling.

  Tristan shakes his head slightly, not hiding that he thinks the story childish.

  “I stand by what I said, Your Highness. I am sorry if you do not like it.”

  Left with that, the company falls silent as everyone becomes lost in their own thoughts. Lisa and the bards bring their horses back into a single file line behind Tristan and speak no more on the subject of the Black Knight.

  ~-~~-~

  Evening begins to set in, the sun slowly beginning its fall behind the world. The songs of the birds die away, replaced by the sounds of crickets. The river begins to bend north. The path forks; one way continuing along the river bank, and another going southeast, into a grassy field covered with hills and mounds. Lisa examines the land, seeing that the southeast route leads to what appear to be ruins, and it is the direction that Tristan leads them on. As they slowly make their way down the road, Lisa discovers that they are in fact ruins, long since destroyed - now overgrown with foliage and creeper vines, the land’s way of reclaiming what was once its own.

  The paved road gives way to decay, grass and weeds breaking the stone and pushing their way out of the cold, hard earth. The ruins themselves are fairly unimpressive: the bases of walls, the occasional broken staircase, and open plazas. Tristan leads them into the apparent heart
of the ruin, the walls here thicker than the others and more complete. He dismounts to let his horse graze. Lisa and the bards do the same.

  “These ruins used to be a fort. Where we are now was the main watch tower,” Tristan speaks, sounding more like a historian than a warrior or bodyguard.

  He starts to scavenge around, trying to find any dead branches and plants. Cale decides to help while Lisa and Amy sit down, stretching their legs. With armfuls of dead vegetation, Tristan leads Cale to the center of their makeshift camp and they throw the tinder down. Tristan then goes back to scavenging around the camp, finding rocks and larger hunks of dead tree. With them, he starts a good sized fire. Lisa remembers the pack of fruits and retrieves them, passing a few out among the bards.

  Tristan stands at the edge of the camp, watching the sun finally finish its fall behind the trees. Lisa does not bother offering any of the fruit to him, contempt still in her heart from his words earlier. He finally sits with a sigh, his back to them as normal. He unsheathes his sword and takes a whetstone to it - the sound of the stone on the sword’s blade echoing off of the few still-standing walls.

  None of the company really has the will yet to speak about anything.

  ~-~~-~

  The moon rises and reaches the pinnacle of its arc. Lisa wakes, aware that she had dozed off. The fire has lowered, but still burns. The bards lay on the ground close to the fire, sleeping closely. She does not find Tristan, though his horse and bags are still where they were earlier. She stands up, dusts herself off and takes to exploring the ruins.

  The night is still and soundless, save for an odd sound; one Lisa does not recognize at first. She follows the sound, coming to a staircase in the side of a large mound. Lisa climbs the stairs, there finding Tristan sitting on the edge of what had once been a balcony, looking out over the former fort. The sound was him sharpening a small dagger.

  “You sleep much too heavily for someone whose life is in danger,” he says grimly.

  Lisa looks closer at the dagger. It is hers. She reaches down to her waist and finds the sheathe empty, validating her suspicions.