Chapter 36: Birthright

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Cheen watched in bitter disgust as the other members of the Green Guard attacked the Metropolitan soldiers. He hated fighting in situations like this--he hated when the opponent was so obviously outnumbered. It felt more like a slaughter.

He and his wife Araz had initially jumped at the opportunity for him to be part of the Green Guard. They had thought it would be a great honor. He had always been skilled with weapons. He could throw a dagger with pinpoint accuracy, and there were few who could best him in a sword-fight. He was meant to be a fighter, and he had believed the Green Guard to be a good fit for himself.

But he had soon found that the newly crowned king was no better than his usurper of a father. King North was cruel, and he was hurting the Kryptonian people by levying heavy taxes and turning a blind eye to injustices. And--to make things worse--he had also been leering at Araz lately. It made Cheen nervous. Kryptonian law dictated that one man could not take another’s wife--but that was only so long as that other man was living. Did the king want Cheen to die so he could marry Araz? Would the king find an excuse to kill Cheen himself? His greed was such that Cheen would not put it past him.

Most of the other members of the Green Guard shared Cheen’s unease about what the king made them do. Even if Cheen hadn’t been part of their hushed conversations behind closed doors, he would have been able to guess at their wavering loyalty at a battle like this.

Though the knights of the Green Guard were fighting and winning, they were not giving it their all. While the young man they had attacked had shown his impressive strength and skill in battle--and the queen in boy’s clothing had proven herself quite able of assisting him from afar--there was no way the two young people could have been a match for the well-trained men of the Green Guard when they were fighting at their best. But the Green Guards *weren’t* fighting at their best. They were sick of serving a cruel ruler, and they were ready for change . . . but no one wished to be covered with the taint of treason. And so they fought, though it was half-hearted.

Cheen moved his horse closer--there wasn’t really room for another horse to move into the fray, but he wanted King North to at least think him alert--only to almost drop his reins at the sound of a loud *crack*.

Swiveling his body toward the source of the noise, he stared in wonder. The large stone once holding the enchanted blade had split into two. And the young man who’d fought so skillfully had the sword in his hands.

Cheen’s eyes widened in surprise. Only the rightful ruler of Kryptonia was supposed to be able to pull it out--as the script on the now-cracked stone had read.

Cheen turned his gaze toward King North, who was staring at the boy with a stunned expression. “Kallel?” North breathed in disbelief. “Is it you? You’re alive?”

Hope suddenly flooded Cheen’s heart. Without any hesitation, he brought his horse closer to the young man. Then he dismounted and walked forward.

Wary, the boy held his sword at the ready, glancing behind briefly to where the queen was still down on the ground at the base of the rock. But Cheen had no desire to hurt either of them. Instead, he dropped to his knees and bowed.

Tentative tendrils of joy were spreading through the Kryptonian knight. Was this the change he had been hoping for? He barely dared believe it was.

He raised his head as he heard a noise behind him.

****

North’s horse galloped over to the great stone, and the king leapt down with his sword drawn.

“Be careful,” Clarkent warned Loisette. But though she was still on the ground and he was up on the stone, he knew she wasn’t in danger. North was coming for him.

The Kryptonian king jumped up onto the cracked rock, his green blade flashing downward. Clarkent met it with his own silver sword.

“I will kill you,” growled King North. His eyes were filled with fury as he glared at his opponent.

“We’ll see about that,” Clarkent returned. He shoved his sword forward and to the side, pushing North off the left of the rock. Then he jumped down beside him, making sure to keep himself between North and Loisette.

North’s sword flashed once, twice, three times--Clarkent beat it back, his gaze unwavering. Then North kicked him in the knee, and he stumbled backward. North’s sword came crashing down, and Clarkent ducked to the side. It missed his head, but it sliced down the flesh of his left arm.

Clarkent hissed in pain. His shoulder was burning far more than he would have expected. Did that mean Loisette was right? *Were* the swords poisoned? Were the toxins were going to spread through his body?

He heard Loisette gasp, “Clarkent!”

“Your little queen is worried about you,” sneered North as he parried the stableboy’s sword. “Perhaps I ought to kill her so you won’t be distracted by her screams anymore.”

“*No*!” Clarkent growled, lunging forward. He would protect Loisette no matter what.

Clarkent made one thrust and then another, his attacks like the strike of a snake. A blow to the shoulder. A sudden punch to the face. A kick to the stomach. A strike to the underarm. Clarkent’s attacks were relentless.

Though some of his strikes were rendered useless by North’s armor, Clarkent continued to fight like a madman. His fury boiled inside him, urging him on. His wild barrage surprised the king and sent him backward, forcing him to remain on the defense. Clarkent had to win for the queen. He *had* to.

Clarkent pushed his opponent’s sword arm aside. Then he shoved his shoulder into North’s chest with all his might. The king went toppling to the ground.

Clarkent glared down at him, his chest heaving. His sword was pointed at North’s throat. “I won’t let you hurt the queen,” Clarkent said in a low voice. He would fight for Loisette until his dying breath.

North swallowed, his eyes fixed on the sword. “Green Guard!” he growled, a note of desperation in his voice. “Come protect your king!”

Clarkent watched him carefully, wary for any sudden movements. He tensed and listened for the sound of horse hooves indicating the approach of his enemies. Instead, he only heard the sound of feet hitting the ground.

Taking in a deep breath--his vision was beginning to swim a little now, the effects of the poison taking hold--Clarkent turned his head. His jaw dropped.

The Kryptonians were bowing to him.

“What?” Clarkent whispered in disbelief. What was happening? He shook his head, trying to clear it. Was he hallucinating?

****

Loisette had been almost certain they were going to die. Though Clarkent was an excellent swordsman, he was outnumbered. And Loisette’s bow couldn’t help much due to the Green Guard’s armor.

So when the Kryptonian knights got off their horses, she feared they were going to overcome Clarkent by attacking him all at once. Instead, they dropped to the ground and bowed their heads.

King North appeared just as taken aback as she was. When he finally found his voice, he hissed, “Rise, you imbeciles! *I* am your king! Not this tattered *boy*!”

But the knights of the Green Guard did not obey.

Loisette stared at them, but there was no trace of tension in their stances. Her head turned when she saw a flash of movement, but it was just Clarkent taking a few steps away from North.

“What are you doing?” he asked the bowing Kryptonians. Loisette understood his confusion--minutes ago, they had been his opponents. Now, they simply remained kneeling, their heads bowed in respect and submission.

Was it connected to the sword? She fixed her eyes on the blade, which was hanging down by Clarkent’s side now.

And then there was another flash of movement, and Loisette gasped out in warning for Clarkent, “No!”

****

At Loisette’s cry, Clarkent turned. North was charging toward him.

Clarkent tried to step aside and bring up his sword, but the poison was draining his energy. His movements were too slow. He wouldn’t to be able to block the blow. He closed his eyes and waited for death to come.

But instead of pain and darkness, there was a gargling noise and a sharp intake of breath.

Clarkent opened his eyes. North was slumping to the ground, a dagger embedded in his throat.

In confusion, Clarkent turned his head. One of the Kryptonians was standing, his arm still raised in the air. He had to have been the one that threw the dagger. It was the man who had first bowed to him.

“Why did you do that?” Clarkent asked him. North had been his ruler. Why would he do something so treasonous?

“He was trying to kill my king,” the Kryptonian replied, as if it were obvious. “I could not let him do that.”

Clarkent’s surprise--which was already great--grew. “*K-king*?” he sputtered.

“Yes, his ‘*king*,’” a familiar voice confirmed loudly.

Clarkent looked across what had minutes before been a battlefield and saw Peri approaching with his staff in hand. “Peri?” he said, surprised to see the magician.

One of the Kryptonians gasped, and another said, “Is that the Merlin? I thought he was dead.”

Clarkent blinked his eyes, trying to fight against the poison. “How did you find me?” he managed.

“James found me,” Peri explained as he stepped up to him. His eyes fell down to Clarkent’s bleeding arm. “North got you with his sword?”

“Yes,” Clarkent confirmed. Then his knees buckled. Fortunately, Peri caught him before he hurt himself. Then he lowered the young man gently to the ground.

“Clarkent!” Loisette called out as she ran to him. She knelt as soon as she reached him and took his right hand in hers. “Are you all right?” Her face appeared above his.

He gave her a small smile. “You’re alive, Your Majesty. Of course I am.” As he stared up at her, he thought about how beautiful she was, even in her Gawain clothes. She was his battlefield angel--his warrior queen. He loved her so much. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if she had died.

“I will try to draw the poison out of your system,” Peri said as he brought out his medicine pouch. He spoke in a low voice so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the nearby Green Guard. “We can’t have Kryptonia’s new king dying of a wounded arm.”

“New king?” Clarkent echoed, blinking the haze out of his eyes. “Why does everyone keep saying that?” he asked. He hissed as Peri touched his arm.

“Because you pulled the sword out of the stone,” Peri told him with a smile. “Before North’s father was king, *yours* was, Kallel.”

“What do you mean?” Clarkent said in confusion. “Kallel? My father?” His head was swirling, and he was finding it hard to understand anything.

“Your birth name is Kallel,” explained Peri slowly, “and your father was Joreth. When you were an infant, he and your mother, Laural, feared that the ambitions of North’s father would lead to your death. I was Joreth’s court magician and counselor, and he entrusted me to find a good home for you in Metropolita.”

“Joreth was right to think there would be danger,” Loisette said softly. Her fingers were gently rubbing Clarkent’s unwounded arm, causing it to tingle in a pleasant way that distracted him from the pain of his other arm. “He got killed, and North’s father married Laural.”

Peri nodded, looking sad. “In order to hear important news about both kingdoms, I established myself as court magician in Metropolita, replacing the scamp who used to be here. I came upon James, and he helped me find Marta and Jon.”

“You know my parents?” Clarkent asked, trying to keep the conversation straight in his head. Peri’s work on his arm was starting to take effect. He began to sit up, but Peri gently pushed him back down. Clarkent sighed in frustration but remained on his back nonetheless. It felt weird to be lying down with all those people staring at him. But Peri wasn’t finished with him yet, and Clarkent truthfully wasn’t sure if he could stand. The fury of fighting North might have kept the poison at bay, but it had really flooded his system once the king was killed.

“I do know them,” Peri confirmed. “I speak with them from time to time. They like to know how you are--they fear you leave things out of your letters.”

Clarkent couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. “If they knew who I was, why didn’t they ever tell me?” he asked. They could have let him know when they told him he was adopted.

“It wasn’t fair for a king to grow up as a stableboy,” Peri said with a sigh. “But I needed you to be somewhere close to me so I could watch over you, and there were no ideal occupations for you because of the Assigning.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want you to know about your heritage in case things didn’t work out. I had to wait until you were strong enough to face North on your own. Dwayne helped me keep an eye on you--he was one of the people at the castle who I knew I could trust with your secret.”

“The sword in the stone--how does *it* play into all this?” Loisette ventured, squeezing Clarkent’s hand. He smiled at her and was overjoyed when she smiled back. Having Peri heal him didn’t seem so bad when she was with him. He wished she would never let go of his hand. He never wanted to let go of hers.

“I got that from the Lady of the Lake,” Peri told her.

Clarkent--though wrapped up in thoughts of Loisette--was paying enough attention that he caught what Peri said, and his eyes widened. “She’s real?”

Loisette punched his shoulder lightly. “I told you!”

Clarkent grinned at her. That was Gawain shining through the young woman. Then again--the princess had liked being right, too.

“I thought the Kryptonian people needed a symbol that all was not lost,” Peri told them, drawing Clarkent’s attention back to him. “The sword’s magic was strong by itself. When I applied my magic to it, the spell created was powerful indeed. You were the only one who could have pulled that sword out, Clarkent. And now these Kryptonians know you’re their king beyond a doubt.” He gestured for Clarkent to rise; he was done with the poisoned arm.

Carefully, Clarkent got to his feet, Loisette and Peri assisting him. All the knights of the Green Guard had their eyes on him. He was . . . their king? Truly? This wasn’t some façade or dream, was it?

Peri, perhaps sensing his doubt, said loudly for all to hear, “This is Kallel, the rightful king of Kryptonia. He pulled the sword from the stone and proved his worth to us all.”

The man who had killed North looked up at Clarkent and smiled. Then he responded to Peri’s pronouncement with a shout: “Long live the king!”

His cry was echoed by the other Kryptonians.

Clarkent looked at them, wide-eyed, and Loisette stepped up beside him and squeezed his right arm. “Long live the king,” she whispered back with a smile, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Though still overwhelmed by all that had happened, there was one thought resonating in his head: he was no longer a stableboy, but a king . . . and kings *were* allowed to love queens.

He placed his right arm around Loisette and pressed her up against him. Despite almost dying, it was the happiest day of his life.

****

Chapter 36 Glossary

Merlin: In addition to being the name of a famous wizard, “Merlin” is the name of a type of falcon sometimes referred to as a “pigeon hawk.”