Sir Rowan and the Camerian Conquest by Chuck Black Read Free Book Online Page B

Rowan’s soul. Rowan tilted his head as it dawned on him who the stranger might be. Even if this were a dream, he could only respond one way. He lowered his head, and tears fell from his face.
    “I’m sorry, my Prince. Please forgive me.”
    The Prince placed a hand across the back of Rowan’s neck, and He leaned toward him until His forehead touched Rowan’s. “I forgive you,” He whispered.
    “I wasted my life on frivolous applause and pieces of metal, and now it is over.” Rowan’s heart ached for the life he hadn’t lived.
    The Prince squeezed his neck, then released him. He reached for a water flask and gave it to Rowan.
    “Be at peace, Rowan. Drink.”
    Rowan placed the flask to his lips and drank deeply of the sweet water. The Prince lowered him back, and Rowan realized he was lying on a cot.
    “Your life is not over, for you are a mighty knight of the King. Time is short, and I have a mission that awaits you in Arrethtrae.”
    Rowan felt confusion wash over him, and the world melted away once more. His last conscious thought was a sad one: he hated to leave this sweet final dream.

A SONG IN THE DARK
     
    Rowan opened his eyes, but the blackness of the cave suffocated him once more. Something crawled across his face, and he didn’t even swipe it away. The heavy irons still hung on his ankles and wrists.
    Death teased him, though in fact he felt more alive now than he had in a long time. Why had he dreamed such a vivid dream about the Prince? His dreamed emotions of regret and renewal seemed quite hollow and meaningless now.
    He closed his eyes and waited. How many more days of this torture would he have to endure? He tried to return to the freedom of his dreams, but they eluded him.
    He lay in silence for a very long while until he thought perhaps he was hallucinating again. The faint, lilting sounds of an angelic singing voice sifted through the darkness and lit upon his ears. Rowan sat up, and the chains jingled, momentarily blocking out the lovely voice. He listened again, hoping he had not silenced the lilting voice, whether dream or not.
    Then he heard it again. Could it be real?
    “Help!” he croaked, his voice hoarse with disuse. Was it loud enough to carry out of his cave past the larger cavern and out into the open air?
    “Help!” he tried again, trying for more volume.
    The singing stopped, so he cried once more, as loudly as he could. “Help!”
    “Hello?” a faint but lovely voice beckoned from the darkness. “Is someone there?”
    “Yes. Please help me!” Rowan rasped. Hope welled up painfully in his heart. “Please help!”
    “Are you trapped?” she called.
    “Yes. Please …”
    “I’m coming,” she called back.
    He had been tricked before by his own hallucinations and wondered if this was another cruel joke of death.
    “Keep talking,” the voice called. “Where are you?”
    “I’m in a cave at the back of the—stop!” Rowan’s stomach rose up to his throat as he realized the danger. Too late. He heard the woman scream.
    “What has happened?” he called out, but he knew the answer. “Get out of the cave while you can still move!”
    Over the next few moments, Rowan pulled against his chains in anguish as he tried to interpret the muffled sounds from the outer cavern.
    “Leave the cave!” he called back in desperation.
    The woman cried out something, but it was unintelligible, and Rowan closed his eyes in despair. He could not bear to think of the horrid death the woman was about to endure.
    “My Prince,” he whispered, “where are You?”
    Hours passed as he lay there, trying not to think of what was happening in the cavern outside. Then a faint glow of yellow light spilled into his cave. “Are you still there?” the woman’s voice called out.
    Rowan couldn’t believe his ears.
    “Yes … yes. I’m here. In this cave.”
    Rowan’s cave soon filled with light, and he blinked as he set his eyes upon the slender form of a young woman carrying a