Chapter 35: The King of Kryptonia

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Loisette and Clarkent had slowed their horses down a little after getting out of the immediate vicinity of the castle, and that turned out to be a mistake. The distant sound of pounding hooves and shouting came to their ears, and Clarkent threw a look of trepidation at the queen.

“I didn’t think they would react that quickly, Your Majesty,” he admitted, ashamed he hadn’t made them push their horses harder. “We need to go faster.” It was dark. If they were lucky, it would be hard for the guards to find them. Maybe that would save them.

She nodded grimly and leaned down to talk to High Flyer. “**Go as fast as you can,**” she told him. “**We’re in trouble.**”

“**All right,**” the palfrey responded. He put on a burst of speed, and Clarkent’s destrier followed suit.

As they approached the border, however, they still heard the far-off noise of their pursuers. It sounded as if they might be getting closer. It was going to be hard to lose them.

But then something happened they hadn’t expected, and they were forced to stop High Flyer and Phantom abruptly. In front of them, from the Kryptonian side of the border, a line of fifteen armed horsemen had appeared.

A very unladylike curse escaped from the young queen’s lips, and Clarkent glanced at her, surprised.

“It’s the Green Guard,” she told him tightly. “Watch out. If what Peri told me about them is true, the blades of those swords are poisonous. Don’t let them touch you.”

Clarkent nodded in acknowledgement, glancing from the visible threat to behind, where danger was still approaching. The Green Guard certainly looked formidable with their light green swords and dark green armor. But he didn’t know how many Metropolitan guards were approaching. They were trapped between a dragon and a chimera. Neither option was good.

“What are we going to do?” Loisette asked him quietly.

“I don’t know,” Clarkent returned, his body rigid. If only he’d been able to bring his armor--then he would have had a chance in this battle. As it was, the situation looked hopeless. He was willing to protect the queen with his life . . . but what if all his actions turned out for naught?

To the front of the Kryptonian line of men came a brown-haired man in golden armor. A dragon was perpetually rearing on his blue and gold shield, and a regal crown sat on top of his bare head. His beard and mustache merged into each other, but rather than make him appear cultured, it made him appear sinister. Was this the Barbarian King whom Clarkent had heard so much about?

“So,” proclaimed the crowned young man loudly, “I have finally captured the thief of the Metropolitan princess.” He looked at Loisette with a dubious expression. “I must admit, however, the miniature of you which Tempos sent me made me think you would be much prettier.”

“I am *queen* now, King North,” Loisette growled, sitting up straight on her horse and looking every part the queen despite the fact that she was wearing boy’s clothing. “And no one has *stolen* me.”

Clarkent threw her a *look*--she shouldn’t have revealed her identity like that, though he guessed it had been foolish of him not to make her put her hat back on at the stable to make her identity less obvious--and told King North in a voice filled with confidence he didn’t quite feel, “You haven’t caught her yet. You’ll have to go through me first.” To Loisette, he said in a low voice, “Go hide by the enchanted blade.”

She threw a look at the sword in the stone and then glanced back at him. It was obvious she was about to protest, and he pleaded, “Please, Your Majesty.” He couldn’t concentrate on fighting if he was worried she would get caught in the crossfire.

Hesitating only for a second more, she nodded, and then she obliged, guiding High Flyer over to the object in question. Then she dismounted and stood directly behind the stone for cover, causing Clarkent to breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

North watched the queen’s actions in amusement. “You believe you can protect her from me and my men all by yourself?” He stared at the enchanted sword and scoffed, “Do you think yourself the next ruler of Kryptonia? Is that why you believe that *stone* will offer her some refuge?”

Clarkent had no idea what King North was talking about, but he had no time to consider it, as the king then gave his men the signal to attack.

The fight had begun.

****

For a few minutes, Loisette watched in awe as Clarkent battled his opponents on horseback. The stableboy fought like ten men. He must have really been going soft on her whenever they sparred together. She had never seen him like this.

But though he was obviously strong--likely having enhanced his skills during his time as the Black Knight--he was outnumbered and in desperate need of help. She had to stop watching and start concentrating on doing something to help him.

Loisette nocked an arrow and shot it off at a man. It bounced off his armor, and she narrowed her eyes. She would have to aim more carefully.

Suddenly, however, she had an idea.

“**High Flyer,**” she called out. “**Can you guide some of the other horses here one at a time? Maybe I can convince them to turn on their masters.**” They needed every advantage they could get.

“**Yes,**” the horse replied shortly. He trotted away, and she concentrated once more on utilizing her bow and arrow as best as she could.

Aiming slowly, she let fly another arrow, and this one landed in the weak spot beneath a man’s arm. “Yes!” she crowed. She didn’t want to kill anyone, but she was pleased at the painful inconvenience she had caused that man. He cried out and yanked at the arrow and flung it to the ground.

She loosed a few unsuccessful arrows, and then High Flyer managed to press a horse close enough to Loisette that she could hold a conversation with it.

“**What’s your name?**” Loisette asked hastily.

The black and white horse’s human was fighting to pull it back into the fray. “**Sonata,**” the horse answered.

“**Can you please try to keep your master away from my friend? This is not a fair fight, and I don’t want my friend hurt.**”

The horse glanced at Clarkent, who was ducking one sword and pushing back another. “**You are right, human. I will try. I dislike bloodshed.**”

“**Thank you,**” Loisette said, watching the angry rider pull Sonata away.

Loisette was able to speak to a few more of the horses as she continued using her bow. She was adding to the confusion of the fight, and she prayed it would be enough to make her and Clarkent get out of this alive. Sweat was already pouring down the stableboy’s face. She wasn’t sure what else she could do. She could try to steal someone’s sword, but she just didn’t have enough confidence in her skills as a sword-fighter. She had only practiced with sticks, not real blades.

She suddenly noticed a horseman coming up behind Clarkent, who was already embroiled in a sword-fight with two other opponents.

“**Help him!**” she shouted out to the horses, hoping one would listen to her.

Sonata rushed forward at her call and bumped into the horse whose rider about to attack Clarkent. The man dropped his sword and flailed out, grabbing a hold of Clarkent and bringing him down to the ground with him. Phantom leapt aside so as not to crush his rider. Clarkent rolled away from his opponent and jumped to his feet, holding his sword at the ready. A nearby man on horseback swiped at him, but Clarkent dodged the attack. Loisette watched him, worried.

****

Clarkent was exhausted.

His morals wouldn’t allow him to kill anyone, and it wasn’t exactly easy to knock someone out who was wearing armor, especially since he wasn’t well rested. So far, he and Loisette had succeeded in incapacitating five men--the incapacitation of one of those men owing to the fact that his horse actually ran away from the battle--but there were still too many left for them to defeat.

Clarkent slashed and dodged and parried, but he was tiring quickly. And then he heard the thud of hooves and turned. A horse was bearing down on him.

He braced himself for the impact even as he tried to get out of the way. But the horse missed him at the last second. It was instead the lashing out of a rider’s foot that knocked him to the ground, his sword flying out of his hand.

“No,” he groaned helplessly. He ran to get the sword, but a man had already dismounted and picked it up. Clarkent backed away, knowing it would be difficult to retrieve the weapon now. And then, unexpectedly, someone grabbed at his arms and pinned them behind his back. He struggled, kicking backward, but the armor--which a sword might have succeeded in piercing--withstood his attacks, and no amount of squirming would make the knight release him. And then his own sword was pointed at his throat. Irony was laughing him in the face. Was he doomed to die by his own blade?

The noise of battle had quieted now that he had been captured, so he was able to hear approaching hoofbeats. He and his captors turned to see who was coming.

Six horses were approaching, the front one of which was bearing Tempos on its back. Clarkent felt like cursing. Of course *he* would show up. Things couldn’t get much worse.

“Well, well, what have we here?” Tempos said loudly. He was wearing a gold and red tunic, as if announcing his royal aspirations to the world. “I had come to have a friendly chat with you, King North, but it appears you aren’t a fan of conversation.” Though no one was fighting anymore, the disorder of battle was still readily evident.

King North, who had kept out of the fight, gave him a slight smile. Nodding toward Loisette, he said, “We have captured your queen and your thief.”

“It’s like Yuletide and my birthday all wrapped up in one,” Tempos said in amusement.

The man holding Clarkent pointed his own blade at the stableboy’s throat. The man with Clarkent’s sword then went up to King North with it.

“His sword, Your Majesty,” the man said, holding the sword up for his ruler to take. The king frowned down at it, running a hand along the hilt.

“My, what a big sword you had,” Tempos sneered at Clarkent.

“The better to defeat evil men like you with,” Clarkent growled in return.

Tempos laughed. “I like you. You’ve got spirit. It’s too bad I’ll have to kill you.” He brought his horse up in front of the Kryptonian king. “I have to thank you for helping me with these little pests. The Black Knight has been a thorn in my side for too long.”

Clarkent’s eyes widened. Tempos . . . knew?

Glancing at Clarkent and seeing his expression, Tempos chuckled. “You think I don’t recognize that horse you’re riding? I’ve seen it twice. I make it my business to know horses just as I make it my business to know the people working at the castle. I have to admit, though, I wouldn’t think the queen would go for the stableboy type. I guess you never can tell.”

Clarkent narrowed his eyes and growled.

“Ha ha, the little horse keeper is angry, isn’t he?” Tempos said, smiling sinisterly.

King North cleared his throat. “I was glad to help you--and now I shall help myself.” He lifted his hand, and a Green Guardsman on horseback near Tempos plunged a sword into the duke’s chest and then removed it.

Tempos looked down at the bleeding wound in his chest in a detached way. “You know, I expected more of a back-stabbing than a front-stabbing, but I guess we can’t have everything.” Then he stared at King North defiantly for a few seconds before slumping on his horse.

King North’s Green Guard sprung into action, attacking Tempos’s men. The Metropolitans were slow to respond, overcome as they were by the betrayal of their master, but they nonetheless started to fight back.

In the confusion, Clarkent managed to break free of his captor and escape to the great stone Loisette was taking cover behind. She lunged forward and embraced him. “Clarkent, I was so scared they were going to kill you,” she told him.

“They still might,” he said grimly. But he looked down at her soft brown hair and softened. Then he placed a kiss on her head, deeply inhaling her scent before lifting his gaze to look at the battle waging before them. “But I won’t let them kill you. I can’t.”

“Clark,” she whispered. “Can’t we escape? Maybe they won’t notice us.”

“We have to finish this, Lois,” he told her in a quiet voice, squeezing her tightly. <This could be the last time I hold her,> he thought. <No matter what happens, I won’t let her die. Somehow, I’ll save her from this monster of a king.>

He pressed one more kiss on her, this one on her forehead, and then he pulled away. If he was going to fight, he would need a weapon. He had only one hope.

He hoisted himself to the top of the large rock and wiped some sweat off his brow nervously. If this didn’t work, he didn’t know what he would do. It was his last chance.

He stepped up to the sword in the stone, wrapping his hands around the hilt. Closing his eyes and throwing a prayer heavenward, he pulled upward with all his might.

A loud noise split the air.

****

Chapter 35 Notes

Medieval King Armor: For an example of what North might look like if he were awesome like King Arthur rather than all lame and villainish, click here .