Free Knight Fall (The Champion Chronicles Book 1) by Brad Clark Page A

was still wet after the morning’s frost, a reminder that winter was not far behind them.  The excitement of the princess in the village had lasted through the evening festivities and a late night of feasting and merrymaking.  Conner had seen little of the princess for most of the night.  It seemed that each and every villager had gone up to her and introduced themselves.  Most of the men of the village had a least one dance with her, and many, including Marcus, had taken several turns on the floor of the Inn, spinning and twirling with a dance step that Conner did not know and would never be able to follow.  He found himself jealous of the attention that she was getting.  He sat alone most of the night except when someone tired of their merrymaking would sit by him and chat until they were bored and moved on.
    For one brief moment in their lives, these villagers experienced the grace and glamour of royalty.  They were able to see her, touch her, and talk to her.  All the stories of the king, of royalty, of rich nobility was embodied in this one lithe woman.  Barely a woman, Conner realized.  Hardly more than a girl, but she certainly looked like a woman.   But her eyes were big like a girl’s, taking in and believing all that she saw.  She saw a village that treated her like she was, a princess of a great kingdom.  She was royalty, of a class above them.  And they treated her like it.  She was showered with gifts from people that had very little, people who wanted to give her their most precious of belongings.  And yet, each one was nothing compared to what was in some forgotten dusty chest in her room, locked away because it wasn’t worth the time bringing it out of storage.  She smiled and chatted, her form perfect and her words delicate and ladylike.
    And Conner felt sad for her.  She danced many dances, and when she wasn’t twirling on the dance floor, she was seated in a corner, giving audience to those who begged of it.  She laughed and smiled, nodded and curtsied, said all the right things.  But she was being used.  The villagers didn’t care that she almost died.  Didn’t care that she cried herself to sleep, fearful of being attacked again.  They didn’t care that she had feelings, or might be tired of talking or dancing.  They didn’t care that her body ached from their long walk or from sleeping on the hard, cold ground in a cave.  They used her to make themselves feel better.  And a part of him understood.  They lived hard lives, working for little more than food for their table.  There was not much else for them.  They had their occasional feasts to celebrate one thing or another.  But their lives were rather mundane.  The boats came and went.  Cargo and goods were loaded and unloaded.  But now, with the arrival of the princess, their world was turned upside down.  They had a purpose, and that was to attend to this grand, beautiful princess.  And so they did, tending to the princess’ every whim.
    Conner was glad that they were leaving.
    “We cannot take the ship home?” Elissa asked again.  Her eyes watched tearfully as strong oarsmen pulled the shallow hulled river cog upstream.
    “It will be days before it returns,” Marcus said.  “I am sorry princess, but there are villages that survive only on the trade they make with the ship.”  He turned to her and place a hand on her shoulder.  “Believe me, if you were in grave danger, I would put you on the ship and send you home, but you are safe here in our village.  You are welcome to stay here at the inn until the boat returns.”
    "We thank you for your hospitality," Conner said.  "But we do not have a week to wait.  We should leave as quickly as possible."
    “If you insist on heading out, I do feel that we should send others with you, at least until you return to the highway,” Marcus said with a friendly smile.
    “I know the forest pretty well, Marcus,” Conner replied.  “Less bodies means less