Free the Darkness (King's Dark Tidings Book 1) (36 page)

The young warrior surveyed the scene to see where he was
needed most. Lieutenant Jimson was locked in battle with a bandit but seemed to
have the upper hand. Tam was standing not far away as if waiting to lend aid,
but his face was drawn and pale. Frisha was hiding behind her horse, in the center
of the road, but Reaylin was missing. Something in the trees to Frisha’s side
caught the young woman’s attention, and she started in that direction. Rezkin
took off at a sprint determined to intercept the young woman and face whatever
commotion had drawn her attention.

The warrior arrived just ahead of Frisha and ordered her to
retreat. He could now see what had drawn her away from the relative safety of
the road. Reaylin was being tossed around like a rag doll by a hulking bandit
that was probably double her weight. She had lost her sword but at least
managed to score a hit with one of her daggers. The small blade protruded from
the monster’s thigh, but it was no surprise the man was unfazed. His arms were
covered in purple-black
ink
. The injury only seemed to incite the
brute’s rising anger. The man grabbed the slight woman by her chest armor and
threw her into a tree. Reaylin struck the trunk with a heavy thud and crumpled
to the ground. Frisha screamed, drawing the man’s attention. When the bandit turned,
though, it was not a frightened woman he faced but Rezkin’s demonic gaze.

With both swords in hand, Rezkin punched the man in the face
with a fist braced by a heavy hilt. The bandit stumbled back but maintained his
footing. Rezkin shoved his steel reinforced boot into the man’s gut with all
his might. The air exploded from the man’s lungs, and he vomited as he fell to
his knees. The angry warrior sheathed Bladesunder, and taking Kingslayer in
both hands, he held the sword high over his head with the tip pointed down. He
drove the sword straight through the base of the man’s skull severing the
spinal cord. It was an execution, plain and simple.

“Rezkin!” Frisha screamed. She knew Rezkin had killed men in
the last battle, but she had not actually seen it occur. To see it now, in such
a brutal fashion after the man had already been beaten, was shocking. Rezkin
ignored Frisha’s scream and casually tore a strip of cloth from the dead man’s
soiled tunic. He wiped down his blade and slid it into the sheath. He turned
and quickly strode over to where Reaylin was lying gasping against the tree.

With swift fingers, the warrior unbuckled the injured young
woman’s armor. Frisha stumbled forward and gripped his shoulder with one hand.
With his body still surging from battle, the young warrior just barely managed
to avoid shoving her away.

“Rezkin, what are you doing?” Frisha shouted in alarm.

Lieutenant Jimson and Tam arrived at that moment and took
hold of Frisha. While Tam held her to one side softly whispering reassurances
in her ear, Jimson stepped forward to kneel next to Reaylin.

“Is she okay?” Jimson asked with heavy concern. “I mean, of
course she is not okay. Is it serious?” Reaylin’s jaw was clenched in pain, and
she was gasping for breath.

“She struck her back when she was thrown against the tree.
She can still move her legs, but I think her ribs may be cracked or broken,”
Rezkin said as he finally managed to remove the constricting armor. He abruptly
stopped with a sudden thought. “Did you restrain the two I left alive?”

Jimson was momentarily thrown off by the abrupt change in
subject. “Ah…one had already succumbed to his injuries. I am assuming he was
one of those you left alive since he had no injuries from blades. The other is
alive but will not be going anywhere. His pelvis was crushed.”

Rezkin nodded acknowledgement as he ran his fingers along
Reaylin’s torso. He carefully felt along each of her vertebrae. She sucked in a
breath as he pressed on the areas that would surely bruise, but none of the
vertebrae felt shattered or out of place. Next, he ran his fingers along each
of her ribs. Three of them on her left side were very sensitive and probably
cracked but not broken.

“How is she?” Jimson pressed.

“Three cracked ribs. They will need to be wrapped. I think
her spine is okay. We will need to keep an eye on the bruising to make sure
there is no internal bleeding. Do you know when the next patrol is scheduled to
pass through here?”

Lieutenant Jimson shook his head, “I am not sure.”

“We should pile the bodies along the road for the next
patrol to find. It may also deter any more bandits from attacking for a while.
We will need to move at least a few miles down the road before making camp. A
few hours left of daylight remain, but Reaylin will need to rest and lay still
for a while. I have some herbs and salves that should help with the pain and
speed the heeling process,” Rezkin claimed.

“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said out of habit. He rose and
turned on his heal. “Tam, you are with me.” Tam jumped with a start, but nodded
and followed after the lieutenant.

“Frisha,” Rezkin said, “will you wait with Reaylin while I
retrieve some supplies from my pack?”

Frisha was obviously shaken. She simply stared at Reaylin
blankly for a moment as though she did not understand Ashaiian. She glanced at
Rezkin when he said her name and shook herself from her stupor.

“Y-yes, of course,” she replied as she hurried over to the
injured girl. Frisha sat down beside Reaylin, laying the girl’s head on her
lap, and then simply stared at Rezkin’s retreating form. Without his reassuring
presence and protection, she suddenly felt very vulnerable. He was only gone a
few moments, but it felt like an eternity to the frightened young women.

Reaylin was reeling from her experience with the giant. She
knew that if Rezkin had not arrived when he did, she would be dead. Even with
her weapons and training, she had been no match for the mountain of a man. Here
she thought she was a warrior, but in her first real battle she had been
pulverized. Her pain and inability to move or even breath comfortably made her
feel all the more exposed and vulnerable, and with Rez’s departure, her only
source of comfort was
Frisha
!

Frisha kept replaying the images and sensations in her mind.
Being dragged from her horse, the crossbow bolts, the ringing of steel, and the
blood
. Then, Reaylin engaged the massive bandit, but he threw her around
like she was nothing more than a tiny pest. Frisha imaged it was
her
being beaten and tossed against the tree. She had been terrified watching the
woman throttled nearly to death right in front of her, and there had been
nothing she could do to stop it. Although she had been practicing with her knives,
she had yet to stick one in a target. She threw a few at the brute with shaking
hands, but the knife-throwing novice missed completely.

More than anything, though, the image that played over and
over in her mind was that of Rezkin standing over the bandit, poised to strike.
When Rezkin had beaten the bandit with fist and foot, he had been clearly and
understandably full of rage.  As the man knelt retching on the ground,
something changed. For the briefest of moments, it was as if the world stood
still. Several strands of Rezkin’s hair had slipped from the queue at his neck.
They whipped in the wind around his face as his eyes turned to icy steel. When
his wicked blade descended taking the man’s life and releasing his soul,
Rezkin’s face and eyes were empty, devoid of all that was human. It was that
one brief glimpse that frightened her more than anything.

Rezkin returned with his horse and a roll of bandages. He
pulled Reaylin’s tunic up to just below her breasts. Frisha sucked in a deep
breath. Even she was not sure if her reaction was due to Rezkin seeing and
touching so much of Reaylin’s body or to the deep purple and black bruising
that was already setting in over the expanse of the girl’s torso.

Rezkin gripped his metal cup and emptied several packets of
herbs into the small vessel. He then stirred in a small amount of water from
his waterskin. Once the herbs were wet and clumped, he mixed in globs of
pungent jelly to form a thick paste. He scooped the paste out with his fingers
and spread it gently over Reaylin’s back and sides. Although he was gentle, his
ministrations still elicited small whimpers from the injured young woman.
Finally, he wrapped a bandage tightly around the girl’s torso several times to
keep the ribs from shifting or further cracking.

The young warrior-healer gathered his things and packed them
away in his saddlebags. He shook his head. He had never thought he would need
so many herbs and ointments in such short time; and thus far, they had all gone
to the women. At this rate, he would need to start scavenging for replacements
soon. He made a mental note to watch for the plants as they traveled. As
carefully as he could manage, he lifted Reaylin in his arms. She released a
strangled cry and whimpered. Reaylin was so tiny and light he thought he could
probably carry her the few miles to the campsite, if necessary.

“I apologize for your discomfort, but you cannot walk right
now. Try to breathe deeply and push away the pain. When we make camp, I will
brew a tea that will reduce the pain and help you sleep.

Reaylin whimpered through her tears and said in a tiny,
strained voice, “Thank you, Rez.”

Tam and Jimson were just finishing piling the bodies when
Rezkin and the women arrived back at the road. Tam’s face was ashen, and he
looked like he was going to be sick, or maybe had already been sick…several
times. Both men were covered in quite a bit of blood. Lieutenant Jimson’s
expression was grim until he saw Reaylin. His face immediately softened, and he
hurried over to Rezkin as he wiped his hands on his pants and tunic.

“Jimson,” Rezkin said. It was the first time the warrior had
used his name in lieu of his title, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the
lieutenant. “If you mount up, I will pass Reaylin to you, and you can hold her
while we head up the road. She cannot ride on her own right now.”

“Of course, I will be glad to help,” Jimson said hurriedly
as he scrambled into the saddle. Rezkin lifted Reaylin up into the lieutenant’s
waiting arms eliciting understandable moans and cries from the injured woman.
Rezkin would not have openly acknowledged such vulnerability, but he recognized
that these outworlders had not properly acclimatized themselves to pain.

Rezkin turned to Frisha and Tam who were both looking much
paler than usual and asked, “Are you two okay? I did not see any injuries.”

Frisha shook her head, and Tam swallowed hard, “No, I’m
fine. I wasn’t injured.” Rezkin had not seen everything that occurred on the other
side of the road, but the haunted look in the young man’s eyes told him that
Tam had probably taken a life for the first time.

The warrior said, “We will talk later.” When Tam just
nodded, Rezkin continued, “We are going up the road to make camp. I would not
expect any more trouble, but we must stay on guard. Lieutenant Jimson is
preoccupied, so Tam, you take the rear. Stay close but glance behind you and to
the sides frequently. Your eyes should never stop moving. If you see anything,
anything at all, even if you think it is just a deer, unless you can say for
certain, you let me know.”

Tam swallowed and nodded again.

The travelers made their way along the road slowly for a
couple of hours before finally finding a suitable campsite. It was located a
few of dozen paces from the road and was nestled among dense trees whose
low-hanging boughs and surrounding shrubbery would hopefully hide their fire
from the casual observer.

Rezkin scouted the area and found no more signs of bandits.
After catching dinner, he returned to the camp and checked on his injured
traveling companion. For the rest of the evening, Lieutenant Jimson fretted
over Reaylin, doing everything he could to make sure she was comfortable.
Unfortunately, Reaylin only had eyes for Rezkin. The fact that the young
warrior had saved her life, avenged her, and then treated her wounds had only
endeared him to her all the more.

Even Rezkin could recognize the young woman’s drug-induced
longing gaze, although he may have been more attuned to the possibility simply
because of his previous talk with the lieutenant. He was not sure why it should
matter, but it made the young warrior very uncomfortable. Rezkin did not want
Reaylin to desire him. He did not know exactly what his feelings were toward Frisha,
if he indeed had any, but he knew he was not interested in Reaylin. The young
woman was too chaotic, impulsive, and reactive. He knew he would never be
comfortable being close to the young woman, much less let his guard down long
enough to be any kind of intimate with her.

The first distant view of the capital city, the Seat of the
King, was unimpressive. The land was completely flat so all the travelers could
see was the massive bridge that spanned the River Straei and a very tall grey wall.
The wall itself was supposed to be one hundred feet high and composed of stone
quarried from the Zigharan Mountains. The stone had been transported by ship
down the Tremadel River, and supposedly, when the sun was at just the right
angle, the walls sparkled. From here, they just looked grey.

“Are you sure that’s Kaibain?” Frisha asked, looking up at
the monstrosity. “Maybe we took a wrong turn and ended up at Drennil.”

Jimson chuckled, “Oh, I am sure all right. I have been here
before, several times, in fact. I know it does not look like much from this
side, but once we pass through the gate, you will be surprised.”

Frisha eyed the wall doubtfully. It seemed like the King’s
Seat should be more grandiose.

“This wall is more functional than decorative, obviously,”
Jimson added. “In ages past, when war frequented this land, entire sections of
the wall were repeatedly damaged or destroyed. It had to be rebuilt often and
quickly. The builders did not have the time or funds to make it attractive.
Besides, their hard work would have been for naught as soon as a catapult
launched a boulder and shattered their fine work.”

The bridge spanning the Straei was slightly more impressive.
It was massive and built high upon pillars, although not quite high enough to
allow passage for most ships sporting a mast. Tam stood at the center of the
bridge looking over the rail down at the rushing water below.

“How to they keep the stone up between pillars? It looks
like they’re floating on air,” the young man stated.

“They used iron and steel beams and girders to create a
frame. It was quite an engineering feat, and the engineers and mages who worked
on it were rewarded handsomely,” the lieutenant replied.

“I just can’t wait to get to my uncle’s and have a hot bath.
I am so tired of being dirty and smelly,” Frisha huffed. “I really don’t care
about the rest of the city at this point.”

“That reminds me,” Jimson said. “Rezkin, where will you be
staying and how long until you are ready to leave for Skutton? I have a few
messages to deliver, and I need to get the final letter of approval for my
leave. Then, I will be free to go. How will I reach you?”

Just as Rezkin opened his mouth to reply, Frisha spoke
instead. “He is going to be a guest at my uncle’s home. You should have no
problem finding it. My uncle is General Marcum.”

Lieutenant Jimson and Reaylin, who was in serious pain but
now able to ride her own horse, both whipped their heads around to stare at
Frisha. “General Marcum is your uncle?” Jimson asked in disbelief.

“Yes, on my mother’s side,” Frisha replied with a slight
flush at the attention.

Jimson looked over at Rezkin who was sitting as stoic as
ever and realized, now, why the young warrior had been less than hopeful about
his chances with the young lady. Even so, he did not see how the general could
even consider rejecting the young man. Despite what Rezkin said, Jimson was
certain the young man was nobility of some sort. With Rezkin’s knightly sense
of honor, Jimson could not imagine the warrior had done something to be disowned.
Most importantly, though, Rezkin was a Sword Bearer, the highest honor in the
kingdom – perhaps
all
of the kingdoms. He was favored by the
king
.
How could the general argue with that?
            Rezkin
noticed Jimson’s questioning look and turned to Frisha. “Frisha, I am not sure
the general will welcome unexpected guests. General Marcum does not know me and
has no reason to trust me in his home. And, what about Reaylin? We cannot just
leave her alone somewhere, especially being injured as she is.”

Reaylin beamed at Rezkin’s thoughtfulness, but Frisha cast
his worries aside. “Don’t worry, Rezkin. My uncle will be thrilled to have you.
You have saved our lives several times over on this journey. Tam and I are well
aware that we would not have made it here if it were not for you.” Frisha said
this last with a dark look of acceptance typically reserved for those who knew
they had done something so foolish they should have been dead from it. Almost
belatedly, she gritted through her teeth, “I am sure Reaylin will be welcomed
to stay as well.”

Tam nodded vigorously, “It’s true, Rez. We both owe you our
lives, and I’m sure Frisha’s uncle will recognize that. I think he would
probably be more upset if he did not have the opportunity to host you. I know
my ma and pa would dote on you like you were a long lost son.”

“Don’t worry about me,” piped up Reaylin. “I have plans to
stay with some people already.”

“Very well,” Rezkin sighed. Returning to the lieutenant’s
original question, Rezkin said, “Our departure will depend on how long the
general intends to keep us as his guests. How long will it be before your uncle
releases you to travel again, Frisha?”

Frisha’s face flushed, “I-I’m not sure. I am going to have
to convince him first.”

“Wait,
she
is going to Skutton, too?” Reaylin nearly
shouted in disbelief.

Frisha scowled at the young woman. It was obvious from her
reaction that she thought she was going to have a shot at Rezkin once she had
him away from Frisha.

“I’m going, too,” Tam blurted to everyone’s surprise.

“I thought you were joining the army?” Rezkin inquired.

“Well, I am…I mean, I will…after the tournament,” Tam
replied. “Oh, come on, everyone else is going, and it will be exciting. It’s
not like the army is going anywhere. Besides, who knows when I’ll get another
chance to see the King’s Tournament? And, I
did
take an Oath of
Protection for Frisha. Even if she doesn’t really need me with you around, Rez,
I still must honor my oath.”

“Your oath ends when we get to my uncle’s home, Tam,” Frisha
remarked, “but I for one, will be glad of your company.”

Lieutenant Jimson, ever efficient, brought the conversation
back to the point. “When you decide upon our departure, send word to me at the
main barracks. Although I look forward to the respite, I hope it will not be
more than a few days. It is a long journey to Skutton and you never know what
troubles we may encounter,” he stated glumly as he remembered all that had gone
awry thus far.

After a few moments, Lieutenant Jimson came to a decision and
called Rezkin aside for a private chat. The two rode side-by-side a few good
paces out of earshot from the rest of the party. “Rezkin, as you know, I was
given some messages to deliver upon arrival in Kaibain. One of those is
addressed to General Marcum, and it is regarding
you
.”

“Me?” Rezkin asked, feigning surprise. “What would it have
to say about me, and how do you know what it says?”

“Colonel Simmons had me review the letter for accuracy
before it was sealed. It is nothing, really. It just explains who you are and
describes your actions and assistance in fighting off the bandits back at the
River Straei. It
does
identify you as a Sword Bearer, which is why I
think the Colonel thought the matter should be brought to the general’s
attention. Neither of us had heard of anyone being granted a Sheyalin in a
couple of decades, so you showing up with not one but
two
was odd,
especially at your age. I just thought you should know since you will be
staying in the general’s home. I did not want things to be too awkward for you.
Your actions saved our lives. If not for you, we all would probably be dead,
and Reaylin…” he trailed off unable to finish the statement. “Well, just, thank
you. I will not forget.”

“I appreciate you letting me know,” Rezkin replied. “Of
course, I would not ask you to forsake your duty and not deliver the letter,
but I
will
ask that you simply wait a few days. I would like to get to
know the man on my own accord before he starts making assumptions based on the
fact that I bear these blades.”

The lieutenant eyed Rezkin sideways. He was on unstable
ground, here. On the one hand, even if he delayed a few days, so long as he
delivered the letter, he would still be following orders. On the other, if he
did not deliver the missive immediately, and something happened to the general
as a result of Rezkin’s actions while he was staying in the man’s home, the
lieutenant would be in hot water.  

Jimson did not believe the warrior held any ill intent
toward the general, but was he seriously willing to trust his career, may be
his
life
, to those beliefs? Still, he owed the young man his life at
least twice over. Another thought occurred to the lieutenant. Rezkin was a
Sword Bearer of unspecified authority. Rezkin could
order
him not to
deliver the message, and no one could
legally
question the lieutenant in
his compliance.

Lieutenant Jimson nodded. “Very well. I will deliver the
letter to him the day after tomorrow. If he asks why the delay, I will tell him
I was acting on your orders,” he said with an uncharacteristic cheeky grin.

Entering the city was not a problem. With the lieutenant’s
credentials, the traveling companions were admitted without a second thought.
True to the lieutenant’s word, the city was immeasurably more impressive on the
inside. Most of the structures were built of stone, but many were constructed
of wood. Wide avenues paved with smooth, flat cobblestones, crisscrossed and
wound around clean walkways and trimmed hedges. At each of the major crossways
was a circular intersection in the center of which stood a statue, fountain, or
fancy topiary.

The main market street did not have the cluttered stalls
with shouting merchants that Rezkin had experienced in the other cities.
Instead, the path was lined with shops residing in stone buildings that had
large glass windows along the fronts to display their wares. The lieutenant
assured them that the regular merchant stands could still be found in other
parts of the city, but the area along the main thoroughfare was reserved for
the more affluent.

Lieutenant Jimson guided the travelers through the twists
and turns of the upper-class district. The companions gawked at the splendor,
breaking their silence with the occasional “Oooh” and “Aaahh” or “Look at
that!” Gardens and courtyards abounded, and tall spires peeked over the
rooftops. The people in this area were dressed in fine silks and lace, and the
women carried parasols and rode in fancy two-wheeled carts pulled by running
servants. The lieutenant called the carts rickshaws.

Once the lieutenant knew he was in the correct area, he
stopped to ask a local which estate belonged to the general.  The estate
was of moderate size compared to some of the ostentatious abodes they passed,
but it was still grand. Standing two stories high with a white marble façade,
the estate’s edges and trim were gilded to look like leafy vines and paisleys.
Tall white marble pillars supported a balcony over the front entry, which was,
itself, impressive with massive ten-foot solid kendlewood doors.

The home was set back from the street for privacy and was
surrounded by a bright green lawn dotted with carved topiaries and flowering
gardens. Several large oaks provided a respite from the sun and shaded the more
delicate flowers from the luminous disk’s punishing rays. The entire grounds
were surrounded by a stone wall about eight feet in height with a heavy
stylized iron gate that swung open on well-greased hinges. No one manned the
gate, so Rezkin assumed it was only locked at night.

Lieutenant Jimson took his leave saying that he would send
someone to collect the horses and would call on them in a few days. Reaylin
insisted on handing her horse over immediately arguing that she could find her
own way to wherever she was staying. Jimson wanted to escort her, but she flatly
refused. As a compromise, he purchased a fare on one of the rickshaws for the
injured young woman. Reaylin had actually been excited to have the opportunity
to ride in one, so she did not complain. She claimed she would return in a few
days to find out when they were leaving for the tournament.

The horses clattered over the cobbled path that ended in a
loop wide enough for a carriage or coach to turn around. As the three remaining
travelers dismounted, the massive front door swung open silently. An older man
in dark blue livery awaited their approach. Unsure how to address the weary
travelers who were caked in road dust and damp from the summer’s heat, the man
bowed deferentially. Without meeting the eyes of any one person, he said,
“Welcome to House Marcum. How may I assist you?”

Frisha bounded forward with a grand smile and said, “I am
Frisha Souvain. My uncle is expecting me.”

The steward’s eyebrows nearly touched his thinning grey
hairline as a friendly smile graced his face. “Ah, Lady Frisha,” he greeted as
he bowed even lower. “I am Narus, Steward of House Marcum. It is my honor to
serve you. We have been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Your uncle is not here
at the moment, but I will send a runner to inform him of your arrival. Please
enter.”

Frisha and Tam started forward, but Rezkin caught the young
woman’s arm. Frisha shivered at his touch and looked at him questioningly.
Rezkin thumbed over his shoulder back at the horses. “I should see to Pride,
first.”

The observant steward said, “I assure you our stable hands
will do a fine job of caring for the horses, Lord…” the
statement-turned-question hung in the air until Frisha realized she should
probably introduce her companions.

“Oh, my dear. I am so sorry. I should have introduced my
friends. This is my long-time friend and escort from Cheswick, Tamarin
Blackwater, carpenter’s apprentice and future recruit of the King’s Army. And,
this is Rezkin, um…a dear friend and protector.” Frisha blushed, realizing
somehow she still did not know enough about Rezkin to introduce him properly.