Forever Knight (The Champion Chronicles Book 3) (11 page)

“I would not be able to lie to her,” Marik said.  “So I will make myself scarce until then.”

“You have journeyed long and you have not rested much.  Find yourself a nice warm, quiet, and dark corner of the castle and rest.  The harshest of winter is not yet upon us and we will need you refreshed.”

Marik gave the queen’s attendant a long look before he left.  For some reason, Arpwin did not look so old, even though he had been attendant to many kings.  Marik had no idea how old he was, only that he had always looked old, even when he had been a young squire.  But for a fleeting moment, Arpwin was no longer the old man who walked slow and without much vigor.  His eyes gleamed with a brightness of a young man who was ready for battle.  It was a look that he was familiar with, as he had seen it upon the faces of knights before they drew their swords for blood.

The former knight ranger left without another word, closing the door slowly behind him.  A nagging feeling kept with him as he searched for that warm and dark spot to rest his weary body.  His battle instincts were kicking in, telling him something was afoot.  If he were out in the forest, it would have been the same feeling that he could get knowing that the enemy was about to ambush him.

Chapter Nine

The light glow of the city of Iseron appeared on the horizon well before they arrived there.  Like most Taran cities, life did not stop at dusk.  Although most merchants would close up their shops when night fell, taverns and other watering holes stayed open as late as there was a patron to be served.  With night approaching, teams of boys would race through the streets lighting oil lamps that hung from every possible location.  Where there wasn’t a building on which to hang a lamp, posts were stuck in the ground and the lamps were hung from them.  Nearly all the main thoroughfares and many smaller streets were lit, giving light for night patrons to see their way to and from their favorite place to finish their day.  Travelers who found themselves on the road at night could see the glow of the city for many miles, giving them a beacon to find their way.  For sea farers, it was also a guiding light for them to find their way.  Although most sea captains wouldn’t need such a light to find their path, as they were experts who used the stars to guide their way, it was always encouraging to see the light glow on the horizon as their journey was coming to an end.

Captain Janari did just that, using the light of the streets lamps of the city to direct him to Iseron.  As the ship neared its destination, the sails were lowered, allowing the vessel to silently come to a stop several hundred yards from the darkened pier.  The elves moved about the deck, quietly doing their jobs without Captain Janari having to bark orders at them.  The anchor was released, breaking the silence with the rattle and clanging of chains as the heavy chunk of iron fell into the water.

Conner and Hargon had kept to themselves, staying near the center of the ship, out of the way of the elven sailors and the cold night wind.  Hargon had pulled his cloak tightly around his knees to keep himself warm and Conner did his best to stay warm in his wool tunic.  Both were stiff and cold when the anchor fell into the water and it took them a few moments to climb from their quiet spot under the main mast.  Together, they moved aft to where Captain Janari was standing next to the pilot manning the tiller.

When they approached, Captain Janari turned from his pilot and gave a polite, if not friendly, greeting.  “We will anchor out here, away from the city.  We will row you in.”

“Thank you for your help,” Conner said.

“We did not have a choice in the matter,” Janari said coolly.  “You threatened one of my sailors.”

“There are what, ten, twelve sailors on your ship?” Hargon asked.  “You could have easily overpowered us.  Slit our throats and thrown us overboard.”

“It had not occurred to me,” Janari said.  “You were given our word that we would give you passage to the city of Iseron, and here we are.  You are safe, and we have fulfilled our promise to you.”

Conner found the elf’s words refreshing, but Hargon looked upon the captain skeptically.  “What’s your angle?” Hargon asked.

Janari returned a blank look.  “I do not understand,” the elf said.  “I am not sure what you mean by that statement.”

“You are strangers and we threatened to kill one of your sailors, and you still help us out only because you promised us that you would.  What else is it that you want?”

“We want nothing,” Janari said.  “You have nothing that we want or need.  Indeed, we are strangers, but that does not change our promise.  A promise is something that we elves take very seriously.”

Hargon narrowed his eyes and said, “I’m not buying it.  You want something.”

Janari shook his head.  “There will come a time when someone will want something from you, and it will make no sense for you to give it to them.  But you will, because I have given something to you.”

Hargon laughed.  “Are you serious?”

Janari stood stoically, his eyes glaring deep into Hargon.  “It is the elven way.  And one time, it was the way that men were taught as well.  But it seems you have forgotten.”

Conner pulled Hargon towards the side of the ship where the rope ladder would take them down into their small row boat.

“Come on,” Conner said.  “It is their way.  Can you just leave it at that?”

Hargon shook his head and glanced over Conner’s shoulder at Janari.  “No, I cannot just leave it.  They will want something from us.  It is how these things work.  It was how I did it when I was emperor, and it is how everyone else does it as well.  You give something to get something.”

“They don’t want anything,” Conner repeated.  The he glanced back at Janari himself and added, “Now climb down the ladder before they do ask for something.”

Without another word, Hargon climbed down the rope ladder and into the awaiting boat.  A sailor sat in the middle of the boat holding tightly onto a rope to keep the boat from drifting away from the ship.  Once Conner dropped into the boat, the sailor released the rope and began rowing them towards shore.

It was a slow and quiet journey.  Hargon kept glancing from the ship to shore, expecting something to happen.  He clearly did not trust the elves or anyone who would offer a friendly gesture without getting something in return.  When they reached shore, Hargon jumped out and started walking away.  Conner pushed the boat back into the water so the elven sailor could return to his ship.  Conner gave a slight wave to the elf, but either the elf did not see him, or chose not to notice him.

Conner walked backwards, away from the water.  He watched as the elf rowed with long, strong strokes, pulling the boat quickly through the water.  Conner was not sure what to make of Captain Janari and his crew.  He still could only picture in his mind the elves of his childhood.  They were short and mischievous creatures that were always the bad part of the stories.  They weren’t always portrayed as evil, but they were never portrayed as the good guys.  And yet, here they were.  They looked and acted just like any other man he had ever met, other than the pointed ears.  He didn’t know where they came from, and more importantly, why they were here.  The cargo hold of the ship was empty, so they weren’t here to trade goods with the people of Taran.  They had no weapons, other than small daggers, so they weren’t here to attack Taran.  But despite his curiosity, he knew that he could not let himself get sidetracked by them.  He had a mission that he needed to finish.  He needed to get back to Karmon, and in order to do that, they needed supplies.  But first, he was tired and hungry, so he would need to find food and a place to sleep.

Hargon was walking quickly down the street when Conner caught up to him.

“Where to?” Conner asked.

“I am hungry,” Hargon said.  “And tired.  But we will also need provisions and horses to get to Karmon.”

Conner glanced back at the sea.  Somewhere in the darkness was the elven boat.  “Maybe we should have asked them to take us to Karmon.”

“I don’t trust them,” Hargon said.  “No one helps without getting something in return.”

“That’s not true,” Conner countered.

Before Conner could continue his argument, Hargon continued, “But they are gone, so we don’t have to worry about them anymore.  But we do need to find a nice tavern.”

They didn’t go far before the noise coming from a nearby building caught their attention.  They walked into a hot, smoky tavern that was filled with cheerful, laughing patrons.  No one looked up or noticed that they came in, which is what Hargon was looking far.  He pushed Conner forward towards the back of the room.  They had to wade through a sea of drunken Tarans, smiling and laughing and having a generally good time.  Many of them were standing in groups, but many others were seated at long tables where they could drink much more without having to worry about falling over.

Near the back of the tavern, they took a seat at the end of a long table.  Almost as soon as they sat down, mugs of foamy ale were slapped down in front of them by an overworked barmaid.

“Is there food?” Hargon asked as the barmaid turned away.

She turned back with a sigh.  “There may be some stew left over.  I’ll be back.”

She returned only moments later and set two wooden bowls down in front of them and a long slab of stale bread.  Hargon looked at the food with a face that said he would rather die than eat what was in front of him.  Conner was too hungry.  He broke off a chunk of bread and used it to scoop the thick stew into his mouth.  It wasn’t tasty, but it was food, and he was very hungry.  A moment later, with his stomach gurgling at the smell of the food, Hargon joined in.

Conner had kept his head down while he ate, focusing on eating rather than his surroundings.  Hargon, however, ate slowly, his eyes moving about the room, taking in the festival atmosphere.

“What could they be celebrating?” Hargon asked.

Conner looked up with a mouthful of food.  “What?”

“The drinks are flowing freely and everyone is laughing and having a good time.  I wonder what the feast is for.”

Conner looked around.  “Nothing, I think,” Conner replied.  “This is a tavern.  This is what people do.  They eat, they drink, they laugh and then they go home.”

“Everyday?”

“Well, I don’t know.  Some of these men are pretty drunk.  I wouldn’t think that they would do this every day.  There was one time back at the castle in Karmon where I had too much ale and I was sick the entire next day...”

Hargon had stood up in the middle of the story and was obviously not listening to Conner anymore.  He moved over to the table where a group of five men were pounding the table in laughter.

“Hello!” Hargon said with a smile on his face.  He did not know why they were laughing, but he joined in anyway.

The five men at the table turned as one.  The remnants of their laughter was still on their smiling faces.

“What are we celebrating here, tonight?” Hargon asked.

The five looked at one another and then burst out into laughter.  They each drank more from their mugs, much of the ale spilling down their shirts.

“We celebrate freedom!” one of them shouted.

“To freedom!” Hargon said, raising his mug.  “From what are you free?”

The man snorted out a laugh.  “You must be a stranger here.”

“Indeed, we just arrived today in your fair city.”

The man stood up and shouted, “We celebrate freedom from the tyranny of Emperor Hargon!  We celebrate whoever it was that killed the murderous emperor!”  The rest of the tavern erupted in cheers and shouting.  “To a new Taran Empire!”

Hargon took a step back and fell back onto the bench next to Conner.  His mouth hung open and his face had gone white.  He would have stayed there, silent in his shock and surprise if the insults hadn’t come.  Conner knew he should have stepped in and pulled Hargon out of that tavern, but he, too, was shocked at the words that were flung about.  He had never heard anyone talk with so much hatred towards anyone as these men did towards Emperor Hargon.  But they weren’t just words of anger, they were insults that went far and above anything he could have imagined.  What got Hargon was when one of the five right in front of them implied that emperor preferred relations with a donkey over a woman.

Hargon moved quickly and grabbed the man by the back of his tunic and pulled him out of his seat.  Hargon wasn’t that strong, but the man was small and highly inebriated.

“I’ve heard enough,” Hargon said.

“And just who are you?”

“I am Emperor Hargon!”

The man laughed even harder.  Then Hargon closed his fist and struck the man square on the nose.  The man fell back onto the table, knocking over every mug of ale that had been on the table.  Conner jumped up to pull Hargon away, but the man’s friends were too quick.  Hargon was thrown backwards onto another table.  Conner tried to intervene peacefully, explaining that Hargon was simply a crazy old man, but the drunkards now had a fighting bloodlust.  Their angry words turned to angry actions and even if they didn’t believe the scraggly man was Hargon, they came after him like he was.

At first, Conner wished he had a weapon, because he would have easily been able to protect himself and Hargon.  But he would also have left a bloody trail of dead bodies.  He avoided most of the haymakers thrown at him, but he couldn’t avoid them all.  While he was trying to push away the first man that Hargon attacked, someone else hit him from the side, sending him hard onto the ground.  There were too many hands and feet punching and kicking him to get up, so he could only crawl away and hide under a table.

The fighting had not stopped there.  Others joined in the fray, not knowing what the fight was about.  Soon, everyone in the tavern was throwing punches.  Conner found Hargon, who had been knocked unconscious.  He had a large bump on his forehead and blood running from a cut on his lip.  At first Conner had thought Hargon was dead, but he could feel slow and steady breathing.  Now that everyone else in the tavern had joined in the fighting, it was easy enough for Conner to pull Hargon away from the middle of the fight.

He hoped to get all the way out of the tavern and slip away into the night, but the bulk of the fighting was towards the front of the building.  The best that he could do was to pull Hargon to a back corner away from everyone else.  He slapped Hargon on the face several times to wake him up, but he was out cold.  If he could get Hargon awake, they might be able to still sneak out unnoticed, but there was no way that he could carry him or drag him out unnoticed.  He kept expecting that someone would come over and continue the fight with Hargon, but they were left alone.  So he decided that he just needed to wait it out.  As soon as the fighting stopped, he would just get up and leave.