A Prologue

Liam ran through the tall grass near his village. He laughed and rolled around in it like a dog. Kida ran with him; keeping step with him. "I'll race you to the river!" she cried as she ran past him. He laughed and charged after her, there was not way he was going to let her win. She flew like the wind through the yellow grass and soon all he could see of her was her raven hair blowing in the breeze behind her as she raced towards the river. "You can't catch me Liam!" she laughed.

Kida reached the river before he did. "Ha! I won!" she screamed and swirled around in circles. "I won you! I won! Now what do you say about me being a weakling girl?" Kida let out a piercing cry, the traditional battle cry of their people.

"Kida hush! You know to make that call is forbidden to you by Mira," Liam cautioned her. Mira highly disliked it when she was defied. Liam could not understand where Mira's hatred for his sister came from; from Kida's birth Mira despised the girl leaving her to seek love from their father and himself. His younger brothers seemed to bear the same hatred towards their sister as Mira and had to be watched closely when she was young, for they tended to have accidents around her.

Since Kida was young, Liam had appointed himself as her protector. He feared for her when the day came for him to leave and fulfill his service to the Roman Empire. The thought of leaving was exciting for him; he always wanted to leave the valley and see the world, but what would happen to Kida after he left he did not even want to imagine the possibilities.

Liam sighed at the memory of Kida winning their race to the river when she was but five years old. He had been ten and it thrilled her to death to beat him. The dreadful possibilities of her future without him had become a reality when the Romans came to claim their warriors. He still remembered her face as he rode away from the village. She was the only person he could pick out of the crowd as they grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

Now he was destined for knight training for the Romans and would probably never see his sister again. He wished that the time would be granted that he would be able to see her again.

Kida missed Liam. After he left Mira has been terrible. She indulges Sheridan, her last son, and tries her hardest to make Kida's life miserable. Her father was no help, all he did was lull around the house and mutter insane ideas about nothing. Kida was now truly alone.

Liam and his brother arrived at a Roman fort on the Isle of Britain. They had been traveling for weeks to get there and now that they were there they began to become very disillusioned with the thought of being a knight.

The first night they came to the fort, they were led to room where there were many other boys around their age. The room was large and long; along its walls boys were lined up into single-filed lines facing the center. Liam and his brothers were led to the very end of the room where a line of tables spread out before them. They were pushed to the first table where their names, age, and ethnicity were recorded. After the desired information was gathered, they were herded through the other tables where they were given the basic weaponry, gear, and clothing.

When the required equipment received, the boys were ushered to the end of the line of boys where they waited in silence for their initiation into the life of a Roman knight.

Time seemed to have stopped as the boys stood in the freezing stone hall. Finally, the doors opened to admit a man dressed in armor. The man walked the length of the room inspecting the boys. When satisfied with what he saw he went to the center of the room where he turned to address them.

"Young men, you have been brought here to serve the Holy Roman Empire. It is a privilege we bestow upon you. You shall have the privilege of defending Rome, and by defending Rome you defend his eminent self, the Pope, Christ's Emissary to our world. By defending the Pope, you shall be eternally blessed by the Lord fulfilling this duty well.

"For the next three years you shall all be trained in the art of battle. At the end of the three years, a select few will be selected to undergo training as a leader. While the select few train the rest shall continue their training until their instructors believe it fit to join a legion or where ever men are needed to fight. For the select few blessed to become leaders, they shall be trained an additional two years. At the end of the two year period, if proven worthy, the trained commanders will be given a post and the right to select knights to be under their command.

"Do not misjudge the harshness of the life. The training will be brutal and deadly. If God wills it, you will survive, and if you survive you shall serve the rest of you fifteen years at your posts under your commander until your dispatch papers are delivered. May the Lord be with you and forgive you for your pagan ways," the man finished as he made the sign of the cross in the air.

Liam stole glances at the boys around them. They had turned a ghastly white. He knew what they were thinking; they had been taken from their homes to a hell on earth. The man in armor left the room followed by ten other men. After the man left, the boys were herded through the doors and led through a numerous set of hallways and doors until they were stopped in a large room full of cots.

"This is where you shall be living for the next five years," their guide interjected. "You will keep it neat and your processions in order. No fighting allowed under any circumstance, women are off limits here, and tardiness is unforgivable. You will be living on the schedules your instructors will give you in the morning. If they change things about you do not argue; you move with their changes. You are to be flexible and obedient. Misdemeanors will be rewarded with beatings, and felonies with death. Abide by these rules and you may live to leave this place, if not, prepare for the unthinkable."

The boys stared at the guide with wide eyes. With satisfaction the guide nodded and left the room.

As soon as the guide left the room, the boys went to claim their beds. Liam chose one close to the window. The cots to his right and left were taken by his brothers. Coram and Andre had already put their stuff away and were climbing into their cots. Liam looked out the window. The moon shone brightly at him.

He sighed. He missed Kida in this cold stone world that he had found himself to be in. He missed her laughter and high spirits. He missed the happy feeling he had as he raced her through the plains and played their childhood games of warriors. He missed his home, his childhood, his innocence. Now he would have to grow up, now he would have to see the bad in the world and make it worse. Violence was not in Liam's nature, it never had been. The only reason he had been happy to leave his home so long ago was a chance to see a wondrous world that, he discovered, did not exist.

As the boys climbed into their beds, Liam wondered what laid in store for him. Would he survive his fifteen year indenture to see Kida again or would death claim him before his time?