van, how far So u are back, I sensed it.
typical u, old Roman style, I wonder if you haven't lived before this last two centuries.
welcome brother, Where s qan, tell her i missed her.

CHAPTER TWO

'Where in God's name is he?'

That was the predominant thought on Melissa's mind as she stood in a natural clearing in a thicket, waiting for Prince Galleine to come around. She had sent a message to him through his right hand man Craig demanding a secret meeting with him and he had replied with a promise to come. Now she had waited for well over an hour and he was yet to arrive.

Melissa propped herself against the trunk of one of those short trees that formed something of a fence around the clearing and let her mind wander. She wondered, for the umpteenth since she began to see the Prince, what sort of fruit her relationship with him will bear.

Definitely not marriage, she thought. No, that was out question. They were just too far apart in social class for that to be considered, he was the King's only son, the sole heir to the Casvillean throne while she was not even of noble birth, only a simple farmer's daughter, and then he was already betrothed to Lady Mina, the fairest lady in the whole empire. There was no way the Prince could leave her to marry a commoner.

There was a loud sound of rustling leaves. Melissa turned sharply with the hope of seeing the Prince but was disappointed to see that it was only a stag that was scurrying around.

How much longer will I have to wait for him? She wondered aloud. She immediately promised herself to reprimand him for being so unpunctual. Deep within herself however, she knew she was only deceiving herself. She couldn't possibly do that. How could she when her heart always flutter crazily everytime she sees him? When words always seemed to melt in her mouth whenever she sees him approaching.

Melissa heard leaves rustling behind her again. She turned half-heartedly and was rewarded with the sight of the handsome, blonde Prince, dressed in a commoner's robe, approaching her. The Prince walked up to her in three long strides and put his arms around her in a loving embrace.

"My Lord, you are late. . ." She managed to say.

"I'm very sorry," Galleine whispered his apology with his face buried in her red fluffy hair. "Craig delayed me with his tardiness in getting me this garb."

"It's okay," She replied as she pulled out of the embrace. Just then she caught sight of a fresh gash on his exposed forearm. "Oh God! What happened?"

He followed her eyes and saw what she was talking about. "Oh, it's nothing. I got it while training with my men for the upcoming tournament. I guess I was doing it too hard, but then this tournament is really important to me because I'll be fighting in your honour."

Melissa felt her heart do a crazy flutter. "My Lord, I'm sorry. . . "

"You needn't be. It's not your fault," The Prince said softly.

"No, it's not about the wound. I meant I won't be able to attend the tournament," She disclosed.

"What! Why?" The Prince demanded, with his blue eyes widening in amazement. "You are supposed to be my lady at the tournament. Have you forgotten?"

"No, I haven't. That's why I wanted to see you to inform you beforehand. My father has chosen that day for my brother and I to travel to Sassule on a trade mission. There is no way I can make it to the tournament," Melissa explained to her lover.

"It's alright, I'll have to make do without your presence," The Prince conceeded lugubriously.

Inspite of herself, Melissa wound her arms around her lover and pressed herself, bossoms and all, firmly against him. "I'll make it up to you later," She whispered.

The Prince chuckled, with his blue eyes giving off an evil glint. "Why later? Why not now?"

"Because I have to leave now. It's getting late. I don't want Father to start looking around for me." She explained.

"It's okay. I love you," The prince confessed.

"I love you too," She replied in like manner and she hastily kissed him goodbye.

"To hell with Lady Mina and her fine airs. I love this girl," Prince Galleine muttered to himself as he watched Melissa's petite figure disappear into the forest.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Sir Tremor's eyes flashed like a lightning as he stared at the four helmet wearing, sword weilding, mail coat dressed men before him with venom. He tightened his grip on his short wooden practice sword and gave a loud cry.

"One, two, attack!"

The men charged at the pint sized Knight two at a time. Sir Tremor was more than ready for them. He struck the first man very hard on the head so that he lost his balance, stumbled sideways and crashed to the ground. It was a good job that the sword was wooden otherwise the man would have died instantly.

Sir Tremor dodged a blow aimed at his head by the second man and in one deft movement, dealt him a heavy blow on the forearm. The man cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground clutching his arm.

The two other men took a moment to look at their fallen comrades before they charged at their adversary like enraged bulls. Sir Tremor's experienced eyes summed them up for weaknesses and he found one in no time; they were moving too fast. He'ld use that against them.

Sir Tremor side-stepped expertly, making his adversaries rush forward past him. The fiery Knight gave them no time to recover. He struck the one closest to him so hard that he defied gravity for a few seconds before he crash into a tree truck. He fell to the ground a very dazed man.

The fourth man, knowing that he was the only one left, sensed trouble and began to scamper away. Sir Tremor was torn between hurling his sword and giving a chase. After a moment's contemplation, he opted for the latter.

It wasn't a long chase. Sir Tremor caught the fleeing swordsman in little time.He dragged him back to the training ground where his comrades still lay writhing in pain, then he let him have it; a sickening blow to the jaw. The man yelled and doubled over in pain.

"This is pathetic," Sir Tremor addressed the fallen swordsmen. "None of you could even strike a meaningful blow. Is it that you were holding back because of who I am or you are just plain useless?"

"No, you were just too good for them," A strange voice chipped in.

Sir Tremor turned to see who had spoken and saw a tall, lithe man with golden blonde hair dressed in an all black royal apparel approaching.

"Er. . . Sir Millicent," Sir Tremor muttered in genuine surprise. "What adventure brings you here?"

"I came to discuss an important matter with you."

"Very well. Let's go to my
chamber."

"Fine," Sir Millicent agreed, then as an afterthought, he asked. "Who are these people?"

"They are professional swordsmen I hired to train with for the upcoming tournament, but it turns out they are not worth the Ciblis I paid for them."

Ciblis was the collective name for the golden Daris, silverine Dinaris and the bronzen Dadinaris spent in Casville and the Nersean empire at large.

"I see."

The two Knights walked through the winding, narrow path that led to Sir Tremor's chamber from the training ground without speaking to each other. Somehow, it seemed strange having this duo together without having some other person as a buffer between them.

Yes they both belong to the same order of Knighthood, but they were not exactly friends. They were more of rivals. Every now and then people debated on who the better knight was between them, but a concensus was never reached. The two knights were more or less on the same wavelength, although Sir Millicent's unearthly handsomeness and his kinship with the King seemed to earn him a lot more goodwill from the people.

Presently, they arrived at Sir's chamber. Sir Millicent was the first to speak.

"I can see you are impatient to hear me out, therefore I will waste no time and will state my mission at once. I came to beg your in the spirit of our shared brotherhood as knights of this land to join my side of Knights at the upcoming tournament."

For a split second, Sir Tremor was overwhelmed by sheer incredulity. He just couldn't believe his ears. Both Knights have never fought on the same side during any tournament before. Certainly, Sir Millicent's request was of the highest degree of oddness.

"Why?" he managed to ask.

"Well, I recently perused a listing of the names of warriors that will be representing Austieres in the tournament and I saw that they have a lot of mighty men on their side, perhaps a lot more than we have and I felt that if you competed on a side different ours, our chances of winning will become quite limited. You know the tournament is being held in the honour of a Casvillean, it will not be pleasant if we do not win it."

Sir Tremor bowed his head in thought for several moments before he replied. "Since the honour of my birthplace is at stake. I will gladly acquiesce."

"Then we have a deal," Sir Millicent held out his hand.

"Deal!" The other Knight said as he caught his outstretched hand in a grand handshake.

Several moments later, Sir Millicent departed from Sir Tremor's chamber and joined Finn, who was waiting for him covertly in a thicket. They mount their horses and began to gallop back to the citadel.

"You still haven't told me how it went with Tremor," Finn observed as they neared the citadel.

"It went as planned. He agreed to join my side of Knights."

"You know as well as I do that that is not what I want to hear," said Finn.

"What then do you want to hear my friend?" Sir Millicent teased him.

"Did you succeed in enchanting him?"

Sir Millicent giggled. "Of course, I did. I shook his hands with the enchantment ring and that is it. We now control his mind, he will not be able to refuse when we ask him to join us in overthrowing the King."

"Hmm that is excellent," Finn replied in ecstasy. "I have always known you are not half the angel you appear to be. You are so evil," he added laughingly.

"If being evil will make me the King of Casville, my friend, I'll gladly be the devil," Sir Millicent revealed and both men roared with laughter as they rode towards the citadel.

Aydesmond: vantee , you know say you na my man, if you update this thing nowwwwwww, enn u go hear weunnn,,, abeg now update am, me don dey gbadun the book go,,,mind you am not a lover of literature sooooooooooooooooooo if u no update this this now......patiently waiting for the update....love your thread

Thanks bro, I humbly apologise for my lateness in updating. I simply got caught in a web of demanding activities that kept me from writing further.

Damex333: van, how far So u are back, I sensed it.
typical u, old Roman style, I wonder if you haven't lived before this last two centuries.
welcome brother, Where s qan, tell her i missed her.

Thanks bro. Lol. I cannot tell myself if I have existed before.

Oh, I haven't told you? You've been away for too long. My sister is now taken. Don't miss her again o.

it seems am the only one waiting for vantee to update this thread

U're not d only one. Am waiting too

Waiting for more updates, sir

CHAPTER THREE

Craig briskly climbed the flight of stairs that led to the the third floor of the palace. He was going to see the Prince, who had instructed him to source for some commoner clothing because they were both going into the town coverly to meet someone. Someone that was not Melissa.

Craig got to the Prince's door and pushed it open without as much as a knock. Well, he knew he was one of the few people who could get away with that. He entered the large, impressively decorated room and saw Prince Galleine leaning out through an open window that overlooked the Royale street.

"My lord. Is Melissa down there?" Craig asked his master teasingly.

The Prince turned around and chuckled goodnaturedly. "Of course not. If that were the case, one of us would surely have gone to meet the other."

"What is down there that you were looking at so intently then?"

"Nothing spectacular. I was just looking at the multitude of people milling around the street," the Prince replied. "I was wondering why we have so many people around for the tournament. Do they not know that our colosseum can only accomodate a thousand?"

"I'm sure they know. They are just hoping to be part of the lucky one thousand who will get to watch," Craig offered.

"Maybe so," The Prince reasoned. "Where are the materials I asked you to bring?"

"Here sir," Craig patted the medium sized holdall that was slung over his shoulder.

"Good. Let's change into those wears," The Prince said. "We have to leave now."

Several moments later, Prince Galleine and his servant Craig suceeded in stealing their way out of the heavily guarded citadel. It was by no means an easy task, they had to pass through several secret chambers and tunnels. Even at that, they only barely escaped being caught by the ever watchful sentries.

"My lord, you still haven't told me who we are going to meet," Craig said to the Prince as they left the Royale street in their wake and made for the Levois street.

"Hush. You should no there should be no my lords out here. We are supposed to be commoners just like everybody else," The Prince chided his servant in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry," Craig muttered his apology and did not bother repeating his initial question. He somehow felt the Prince did not want to answer. Afterall he had asked the same question twice earlier without getting a concrete answer.

Presently, they entered a blind alleyway off the Levois street and they were already making for the South gates road when they heard a thunderous voice ordering them to stop.

"I said stop right there," The terrible sounding voice repeated when there was no response to his initial command.

The Prince stopped, more from surprise than reverence for the voice emanating from the darkness. Craig followed suit.

"Who are you?" The Prince demanded.

"I should be asking you that question," The Voice retorted. "Who are you to enter my territory uninvited?"

"What territory? Everywhere in this kingdom belongs to the King and he is my father."

"Oh my God, It's our Prince," The voice drawled sarcastically. "Now boys, this is your chance to get some royal blood on your swords. Charge!"

Immediately, a torch was lighted and Prince Galleine saw five armed figures inching towards him. He also saw a barrel chested man that looked like he was the leader of the pack. The ruffian was stroking his luxuriant goatee and had a look of grim satisfaction slapped on his face. Galleine recognised him immediately. He was Yalkan, a reknown bandit and the leader of several street gangs.

In a split second, Galleine's grey matter analysed the situation. He was outnumbered and more importantly, outarmed. He had not the smallest weapon on him neither was he protected by the lightest armour. Worse still, Craig was of little or no use in situations like these. If you wanted someone to compose love poems and letters for you, Craig was your man, but in fights and battles, he was more or less a liability.

The gangmen were now closing in, forming a crude circle around the unflinching Prince and his trembling servant. The Prince decided then that patience will be his key. He'll wait for one of them to make a wrong move and he will take over from there.

As if on cue, one of the men lurched at the prince wildly. The Prince reacted quickly by swiftly kicking the sword off his hands and quickly leaping to retrieve it mid-air. On landing, the Prince struck the astonished thug a deadly blow.

Craig watched on in awe as the Prince took over the game from the gangmen and turned it against them. The Prince attacked them so ferociously that in little time, only one of them had not gotten on the battering end of the Prince's sword and that was the eccentric gangleader, who actually smiling throughout the whole encounter.

"It's good to see that you have transformed so quickly from the little boy who was always struggling to get a proper hold of the hilt into a fine swordsman," Yalkan said smugly. "But you still have a lot to learn. A lot."

"Come. Let's see who really need jousting lessons," The Prince replied.

With that, both men stepped towards each other and crossed swords. Craig watched on helplessly as they fought; it was a terrible fight with neither of the fighters seeming to have the upper hand; for one Galleine was unbelievably fast, but Yalkan compensated for his lack of pace by being incredibly strong.

In a moment of wrong decision making, Galleine got his footwork wrong, stumbled and fell. Yalkan promptly pounced on him. Craig grew alarmed, he knew he had to help or this brute will kill the prince.

Craig looked around for a suitable weapon with which to join the fight and he settled for a club used by one of the gangmen. He stealthily walked up to the site of struggle between Yalkan and the Prince. Craig positioned himself, targeted Yalkan's head and struck. WHAM!

Craig stared in horror at the effect of his strike, the log had hit the Prince instead of Yalkan. It seemed the Prince had experienced a fresh burst of energy and had wanted to turn Yakan over, but he had only suceeded in connecting his head with the lumpy end of the log. The Prince immediately went limp.

"Congratulations boy. You have succeeded in bashing your friend's skull," Yakan said caustically as he eased off the unconscious Prince and began to inch towards the shaken servant. "Guess who is next to be floored."

Craig's first impulse was to burst into a blinding speed and escape from this evil man, but his legs did not let him as they turned into jelly and made him fall to the cold hard concrete floor.

Yalkan raised his sword, looking ready to plunge it in Craig's heart. Craig promptly closed and muttered a short prayer, his last prayer. In the next moment, a sound of sword penetrating flesh could be distinctly heard, coupled with that terrible cry of pain that usually accompanies mortal injury.

Craig was momentarily confused. He had seen Yalkan raise his sword and could hear the sound of flesh being penetrated by blood, yet he did not feel penetrated and he could swear on the relics of the saints that the injury cry was not his. Craig slit open his eyes to unravel the mystery and he got a shocker.

Yalkan was still raising his sword in the air, but now a shiny metal covered with blood was protruding from the left part of his chest. He had a dazed look on his face and blood was oozing from the corners of his mouth. Moments later, he collapsed to the floor dead.

"My lord, I'm sorry. I didn't mean. . ." Craig proffered to the Prince, who was looming over the dead body of Yalkan and eyeing it contemptously.

"I know. You didn't mean to strike me," The prince spat. "Apology accepted."

Craig smiled in appreciation. "What now my lord?"

"Well, I have to find a way of clearing this mess and making an official report to the King. That means you will have to continue the journey alone."

Before Craig could open his mouth to protest that he knew next to nothing about journey they were making, Prince Galleine tossed him a rolled up piece of thick brown paper.

"That is a map. Follow the dotted lines, where it ends is where you are going. The place is called the Ruinous Cave. You will meet someone there, take note of everything he says and make sure you return before the end of tomorrow's pre tournament games. Clear?"

"Crystal sir," Craig replied with a nod. Although he felt the opposite.

"Good. Now, be gone."

Craig bowed and left the Prince's presence feeling as miserable as anything.

*** *** ***

It was very early in the morning. Malzene D'Aubriere was just leaving his spiritual room when he caught sight of a thin, average height, brown haired chap who looked like he was in his early twenties standing at the doorless mouth of his cave house.

"A good morning to you sir. Is this by any chance the Ruinous cave?" the young chap asked Malzene.

"Certainly, and you are. . ."

"Craig. The Crown Prince's servant."

"You are in the right place. Where is your Liege?"

Craig recounted the tale of what had taken place the previous evening but Malzene was not impressed.

"He should have come all the same," the sorcerer insisted. "The future of the Kingdom is more important than every other thing he has to do."

"The future of the kingdom you say?"

"Verily. The Kingdom is currently in danger of terrible attacks from enemies within and without. I requested a conference with the Prince because I felt he was in the best position to stop the impending dangers, but it's like I was wrong."

"Can the evil be averted?"

"I don't know, the gods have refused to talk to me concerning this. I'm beginning to realise the futility of my anguish. If the gods truly want to destroy Nersea. They cannot be stopped."

"Can't the gods be appeased? There should be a way out," Craig pressed on, not wanting to believe that Nersea was doomed.

"There should be. According to the visions I have seen, everything will happen shortly after the tournament at Austieres and everything will happen so fast that you people will not even understand what is happening."

Craig tried to speak but it seemed his voice had chosen to desert him. He quickly nodded for Malzene to continue.

"Well, I think if the tournament is not held at all, then the impending evil may be prevented."

"You are saying the Kingdom will escape the wrath of the gods if the tournament at Austieres is not held at all?"

"Theoretically yes. I don't know if or not it will work for real. A trial is not a bad thing anyway since that is the only option we've got. You must find a way of returning to the city as soon as possible and to tell the prince who in turn will inform his father. We will see if it works."

"Let me be gone immediately so that I shall reach the citadel as quickly as possible," Craig said.

"You are not going anywhere," A strange voice chipped. "Not alive anyway."

Craig turned to see who had
spoken and saw a big, burly man with shaven head pointing an arrow in his direction. Craig reflexively swallowed a lump of saliva. This is not looking good, he thought.

TiffanyJ:
Waiting for more updates, sir

Aydesmond:
it seems am the only one waiting for vantee to update this thread

Crowny1:
U're not d only one. Am waiting too

Thanks guys. I continued the story because of your comments.

...

van how far, una dey try o well me deh gbadun am

van how far, una dey try o well me deh gbadun am

Thanks Dammey

Wow, nice story Van. I was just wondering what story to nominate for the Adventure category. This one will do . Come and continue o.

DOES VAN REALLY KNOWS HOW IT FEELS TO STOP A GOOD DRINK ONLY AFTER TASTING IT??

........NICE 1 THOUGH........
..............RoLlINg WiTh U dIs TyM aRoUnD.......................

Marian17:
Wow, nice story Van. I was just wondering what story to nominate for the Adventure category. This one will do . Come and continue o.

Thanks Marian. I'll post the next chapter as soon as I can.

Easy4reel:
DOES VAN REALLY KNOWS HOW IT FEELS TO STOP A GOOD DRINK ONLY AFTER TASTING IT??

........NICE 1 THOUGH........
..............RoLlINg WiTh U dIs TyM aRoUnD.......................

Lol, I know how it feels. I simply haven't continued serving the drink because of the lack of comments.

Thanks man, I'll see if I can post the next chapter later today or tomorrow.

I dy wait for that update o. Please make it lenghty. Tnx in advance

TiffanyJ:
I dy wait for that update o. Please make it lenghty. Tnx in advance

dis guy likes keeping som1 waiting

CHAPTER FOUR

At last, the day came; the day scheduled for the tournament in the honour of Sir Millicent. The tournament was billed to be the biggest thing that has happened in Nersea since a similar tournament held in the honour of Lady Mina three years ago.

The Castalia colosseum in Austieres was congested with spectators, with every nook of the amphitheatre seemingly packed full with people. The only place that was not so full was the Royalty section which was exclusively reserved for the King and his grand entourage consisting of the Queen, the Princesses, Lords, Barons, Dukes, Counts and nobles of every kind.

Presently, the King arose from his gold plated throne to give his usual pre tournament speech. He was a tall and well built man with a face that looked so much younger than one would expect for his fifty eight years of age. He wore a purple robe of silk material and held a golden sceptre in his right hand.

"Good people of Nersea, I welcome you all to this grand event. I can tell you that you are about to be treated to the best of jousting here today. However, we shouldn't forget the reason behind holding this tournament, which is to celebrate the return of our son Sir Millicent after his eight years incarceration in the hands of the rebels. We all know Millicent is a good man who did not deserve the magnitude of cruelty that was meted out to him by those vile creatures who I promise you, will soon be destroyed once and for all by our army immediately they return from the Rhodes frontier. They will. . ."

A thunderous applause from the spectators greeted the King's unfinished speech. King Gavyne smiled understandinly. His people wanted action, not long speeches. "Okay then, on this note I say, Let the tournament begin."

A trumpet was blown to signify the commencement of the much awaited event. A gate swung open on the eastern end of the colosseum and the Knights that were to take part in the jousting galloped to the centre field.

Sir Millicent, flanked on the left by Sir Tremor and on the right by his younger cousin Prince Galleine, led the Casvillean charge. He wore a silver armour that glittered like a gem in the sun. He looked so strong and balanced in saddle that it was hard to think of anyone capable of unhorsing or outperforming him. The spectators began to hail him as soon as he entered the jousting arena and he waved backed in appreciation.

Hidden by the visor of his helmet, Prince Galleine bit his lips in suppressed anger. He was mad that the watching crowd were hailing Sir Millicent without paying any attention to the other knights. Why would they be so adoring of him alone? The Prince resolved to steal the show from Sir Millicent by outperforming him when the jousting began proper.

The Knights took sides and fell into ranks. The Casvillean side was on the left while the combined Austieres and Rhodes side took to the right side. There were roughly two hundred and fifty knights on each side, with the same number of squires standing outside jousting field, waiting to take weapons to their Knight masters.

A trumpet went off again, this time signalling the start of the jousting competition. The Knights on each side broke their ranks and charged towards their opponent with the sole aim of knocking them off their horses.

Sir Millicent led the Casvillean charge as expected. He held his lance in his favoured left hand and galloped furiously towards Aragones, who was leading the charge for the opposing team. Both Knights met at the centre field and thrust their lances at each other. Sir Millicent superbly ducked Aragones' lance and then thrust his own lance further so that it pierced Aragones' breastplate. The spectators roared in delight as the Austieres Knight tumbled off his horse. It was a perfect blow and of course, a perfect start to the tournament for Sir Millicent.

Sir Millicent broke his lance in that encounter, but that did not deter him as he promptly unsheathed his sword and began to strike stunning blows of exceeding brilliance here and there. Sir Tremor was no less busy, he kept raining deadly blows on every opponent that crossed his path.

Prince Galleine, in his crazy bid to surpass or at least equal the lofty achievements of Sir Millicent, was not faring badly either as he struck several eye catching blows in the course of the jousting.

The combined brilliance of these three men; Sir Millicent, Sir Tremor and Prince Galleine, ensured that the Casvillean side possesed a great lead over their opponents as they progressed through the tournament. With the end of the given time frame fast approaching, it seemed as though the Casvillean side would finish with a landslide victory, but it was not to be.

A mysterious knight on the Austieres side suddenly began to perform signs and wonders. He dazzled everyone, spectators and fellow Knights, with the speed, accuracy and frequency with which he thwarted the Casvillean Knights. Every adroit movement of his sword produced a fallen Knight on the other side. His impact was so enormous that the spectators momentarily forgot all about Sir Millicent and shifted their concentration and adulation to this mystery knight whose coat of arms suggested that he was a second star Knight. (Star level in Nersean Knighthood is measured on the bases of experience, strength and skill. The fifth star was the highest star level).

Prince Galleine was livid with rage and green with envy. Someone had finally surpassed his cousin and that person was not him. He decided to unhorse the mystery knight and take all the glory for himself. With that he beckoned to his squire to bring him a new sword. On getting the sword, he turned his horse and galloped swiftly to the centre field to joust with the mystery knight.

The Prince struck the fiercest blow of his life. A blow that would, in fact, have unhorsed the strongest of men, but the mystery Knight did not fall. He simply replied with a fiercer blow of his own.

The Prince yelled in pain as he felt the impact of that terrible blow on his head. True, his extra strong helmet prevented his head from being split into two but it could not save him from an ignominious descent from his horse as he lost hold of his horse and fell face first to the grassy ground of the jousting field.

The whole colosseum reverbrated as the spectators laughed off their heads at the sight of that. It was really a wonderful sight. Even the King could not resist the temptation of an hearty laugh.

At this point, Sir Millicent took notice of the mystery knight who had since been wreaking havoc on the members of his team. Sir Millicent promptly decided to take him down because the longer he stays in saddle the worse for the Casvillean side. With that, he turned his horse and galloped towards the mystery knight.

The spectators held their breath in anticipation as these two knights, the best knights so far in the tournament, faced each other. As Sir Millicent inched closer to the unknown Knight with his sword aloft his head, ready to strike. A trumpet sounded, signalling the end of the given time frame. Loud murmurs of protest could be heard from the spectators, who were none too eager to see the jousting game continue.

"I am sorry but the tournament has to end now." Lord Ashael, the governor of Austieres said. "The rule is the rule. Once the hour mark is reached, then the game should stop, a count should be taken and a winner should emerge."

He then turned to the judges. "Take the count of fallen Knights and let us know which side is victorious."

After the count, it was discovered that both sides had exactly the same number of fallen Knights. The tournament had culminated in a tie. The mystery knight had snatched from the claws of defeat a respectable draw for his side.

"The Code of Knights says that in the case of a tie during a tournament. A combat session should be arranged between the two most outstanding performers on each side in order for a winner to be established," Lord Ashael was reading from the scroll containing the codes to the people's hearing.

"We all know what this means. Tomorrow before Vespers, we shall have Sir Millicent and the other Knight, whose name we have discovered as Sir Maxime, take on each other at this same venue."

The spectators were overjoyed. The fight between the two knights will be more than memorable. They knew it.

As the Knights filed out of the jousting field. Sir Millicent rode up beside Sir Maxime.

"You were lucky we didn't joust today, I would have murdered you. You won't have any escape route tomorrow. Prepare yourself for some serious whooping."

Some other knights who were close by heard Sir Millicent's caustic comment and burst into laughter. Sir Maxime did not say a word, he simply increased his pace and left Sir Millicent and the other laughing knights in his wake.


*** *** ***

Prince Galleine had never felt more miserable all his life. He had aspired to hit it big with the spectators today but he had only been humiliated before them. He felt thankful however that his Melissa hadn't been around to see him fall so ignominiously but then he knew she was a sweet girl who probably wouldn't care about it.

The Prince found himself inching towards the Austieres camp. He felt a strange and inexplicable desire to go and find out more about that Sir Maxime.

"Who do we have here? Prince Galleine, what are you looking for in this part?" asked Aragones, the leader of the Austieres knights, as he came out of the camp and saw the Prince.

"I came in search of Sir Maxime," The Prince replied and immediately hated himself for saying that. He could at least have said something else.

"Why?" Aragones asked with his brows raised. "Or you want to thank him for making you bite dust at the games. You know, that fall of yours was something else."

"It's just as bad as yours," the Prince countered.

Aragones pretended to be offended for a while after which he burst out laughing. "You are right. My fall wasn't much better. You say you seek Sir Maxime?"

"Yes."

"He is one weird fellow. We here don't get to see much of him these days because he doesn't stay in camp any longer."

"Where does he stay now?"

"I don't know. It seems he lives in the one of those castles close to the citadel, it's like he has an understanding with owner."

"Okay, thanks for your time," the Prince said and promptly began to walk back to the Casvillean Knights camp.

*** *** ***

"My Liege, I need to speak with you," Bryan, Prince Galleine's squire, said to the Prince as soon as he saw him enter the camp.

"I believe you are doing that already."

"No my liege, we need to go somewhere private."

The Prince looked around, there were three other Knights around. They were not paying attention to them, but they were well within earshot. He looked at Bryan and saw seriousness coupled with something else in his face. He then motioned Bryan to his reserved room in the recess of the camp.

"So what is it?" The Prince asked after they got to the his room with the door locked firmly behind them.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news for you sir."

"Bad news?" Prince repeated. "It's not Craig. Is it? I sent him somewhere two days ago and I haven't seen him back yet."

"It's not Craig, my liege. It is Melissa."

"What happened happened to her?" The Prince literally screamed his question.

"She. . er. . . has been kidnapped."



THE END








OF CHAPTER FOUR.

Done updating.

Jiteshell, I saw you. . .

1. Who will emerge victorious; Sir Millicent or Sir Maxime?

2. Who kidnapped Melissa?

3. We haven't heard from Craig or Malzene. What has happened to them?

Stay tuned and you will get the answers. See you in next update's time.

VanTee20:
Done updating.

Jiteshell, I saw you. . .

have been caught, but this is too short na, more!!!!

Jiteshell:

have been caught, but this is too short na, more!!!!

Check back. I was still updating in parts when you saw it, it's complete now.

VanTee20:


Check back. I was still updating in parts when you saw it, it's complete now.

Yeah, alright but am still not satisfied

Jiteshell:

Yeah, alright but am still not satisfied

Okay. I'll continue soonest.