Free Sir Rowan and the Camerian Conquest by Chuck Black Page A

suspected.”
    Rowan took a deep breath and sat back in his chair, trying to put everything together in his head. “Who is doing this to Cameria?” he asked.
    “As near as we can tell, much of the influence is coming from Lord Malizimar’s region near Daydelon,” Zetta said.
    Lord Malizimar. The name hit Rowan like a brick.
    “The marauders who captured me claimed they were supporting Lord Malizimar and his cause.” He put his hand to his head as he tried to piece it all together. “But why?”
    “Chessington,” Mariah and Zetta both said at the same time.
    “Cameria supports Chessington and the King’s people there. Lord Malizimar hates Chessington and wants to conquer it. Cameria stands in his way.”
    “I find it difficult to believe that you were a squire under Sir Aldwyn for so many years and he didn’t tell you these things,” Zetta said with a tone that was nearly a reprimand.
    Rowan felt his cheeks flush slightly. “He tried, but I didn’t hear much of it. I was too concerned with learning the sword and how to fight in tournaments.” Rowan rubbed the back of his neck. “Where is Sir Aldwyn now?”
    “Sir Aldwyn’s gone to join the Resolutes, too,” Zetta added. “And he’s left me here to help others who will join the cause. Prefect Corsan and his sentinels wouldn’t suspect an old woman like me of doing them any harm or the Resolutes any good, but I have my part and I will play it well!” Zetta’s face gleamed with the confidence and determination of a gallant knight.
    Rowan felt small in every way. He had been self-consumed before his capture, and afterward he had been caught up with regaining what he considered rightfully his—while many around him were sacrificing everything to save the freedom of people they didn’t even know. He lowered his gaze to the table and fell silent.
    “Are you feeling all right?” Mariah asked.
    Rowan looked up at her. “Not really.” He gave her a weak smile. “I think I need to lie down again.”
    Mariah rose up to help him. He motioned her away and tried to make it on his own, but he faltered. Mariah reached for him, and he sighed. He was tired of being weak.
    “Rowan,” Zetta called as he and Mariah turned toward the hallway. “I don’t think Sir Aldwyn expected you to come here. He was told that you were dead.”
    “That would be the lying work of Balenteen, my ex-tournament agent.”
    “I should think that Sir Aldwyn would be delighted to see you again someday,” Zetta said with a kind smile.
    Rowan remembered their last parting and wasn’t so sure. He just nodded, then turned and shuffled toward his bedchamber, with Mariah’s support. She helped him settle to his bed, checking his forehead for signs of a fever. Rowan looked up at her, feeling rather ashamed for who he was and how he’d lived.
    “Palson was a good man, wasn’t he, Mariah?”
    Mariah stopped and looked down at him. “He was a very good man. Why do you say so?”
    “Because you’re a very good woman.”
    Rowan closed his eyes and turned away to slumber. Though his body was weak, something sparked in his spirit that morning. At the table of a courageous old woman and in the company of a gallant young woman, Rowan began to heal, and the call of the Prince began to sound … a call to something noble … and he could think of nothing more noble than the mission of the Resolutes.

MYSTERIOUS KNIGHT
     
    Rowan awoke to a dreadful realization. He got out of bed as quickly as he could, stumbled to the door, and opened it.
    “Mariah!” he called, but no one answered.
    “Mariah!” he called again.
    He heard the back door open, and Mariah appeared at the end of the hallway with a basketful of greens and vegetables. She dropped the basket and hurried to Rowan’s bedchamber, sensing his concern.
    “What is it, Rowan?” She offered a shoulder of support.
    He shook his head. “How long have I been sleeping?”
    “Two hours … perhaps three. Why?”
    Zetta was now