Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy) (2 page)

“No,” Lorik said. “I have a friend to find.”

Vera sat in the common room of the smallest inn in town. The harbor town had more than its share of taverns and inns, most doing a steady business with the sailors who stopped in the harbor. The Sailor’s Graveyard kept the larger merchant ships away, so most of the visitors were small-time pirates, adventurers, treasure hunters, or fishermen, but they all needed food, shelter, and more often than not the comfort of a woman’s arms. Vera was glad that she no longer catered to those needs.

She and Stone had been forced to stop their search for a new life when news reached them that the king had ordered all his troops south, including those normally tasked with keeping the peace and guarding the Wilderlands from the Norsik. Stone’s gold had secured them a room in the small inn, but it was risky to spend gold when lawless men felt freed from the worry of dealing with soldiers or justice of any kind. Stone preferred to earn silver instead. Vera didn’t like to see him fight, and neither of them enjoyed making money from sailors’ lost wages, but she saw the benefits: not only did it provide them with funds, but Stone’s reputation in the small town gave her an added bit of security. People knew that Vera was Stone’s woman, and as such, they gave her respect.

Lorik’s lip was bleeding and his muscles felt weak. His head was soaked with sweat and his knuckles were skinned and bloody. The inn was dim but not crowded. It took a moment for the big man’s eyes to adjust, but Vera recognized him instantly. Her heart leapt into her throat and she froze in panic and fear. Lorik was her oldest and dearest friend, but he looked in that moment like a vicious animal, the type of ruthless killer she remembered from her days in Hassell Point, where pirates and outlaws congregated.

Once his eyes adjusted to the gloom of the inn, he moved toward her, his feet dragging across the rough-hewn planks of the floor. The common room had grown silent, and the only sounds were Lorik’s ragged breathing and his heavy boots shuffling across the floor.

“Oy! We need ale over here!” said an older man with skinny legs and a protruding belly.

“Give me a few minutes alone,” Lorik said.

Vera was surprised to see two sailors with Lorik. She didn’t recognize either man, but they both seemed protective of Lorik.

He walked toward Vera, then slumped onto the bench across the long table from her. She could see the bruises forming on his face. The flesh around one eye was puffy, and his clothes were ripped in several places.

“I see you found the Pit,” she said in a disapproving tone.

“I did, then I found you.”

“How did you know where to find to me?” she asked.

“It wasn’t hard.”

“Is Liam alive?” she asked, trying her best to keep the fear she felt for Stone out of her voice, but failing.

“Yes.”

“You fought him?”

“Yes.”

“Is he hurt?”

“No more than me.”

“But you beat him, didn’t you?”

“Barely,” Lorik said. “I got lucky this time. He didn’t want to hurt me.”

“But you had no qualms about hurting him?” Vera demanded. “Why are you here, Lorik?”

“I’m sailing north to fight the Norsik.”

“Why?”

“It needs done,” Lorik said.

“I’ve never understood you,” she said. “Even in Hassell Point, you could have had a wife, children, a good life, but you were never satisfied, were you? What is it you’re chasing?”

“I don’t know,” Lorik said. “Why are you so angry?”

“Look at you. You look like a pirate or an outlaw. You look like you belong with Marsdyn’s gang.”

“So you’re mad because I was fighting? What about Stone? He was there, too.”

“He was doing what he had to do to protect us.”

“Is that right? I thought he had gold. I know you had plenty of coin when you left the Marshlands. So why does he need to fight?”

“Things have changed, in case you haven’t noticed. We can’t go around spending gold. We’d have every outlaw and unfortunate person waiting to stick a knife in our backs. I don’t like Stone fighting, but it serves a purpose.”

“Purpose is in desperate need right now,” Lorik said, taking the pint of ale that was set in front of him by a nervous inn keeper. Lorik emptied the cup in one long, thirsty draught and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Did Griff find you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Why don’t you relax?” Lorik said. “I thought you’d be glad to see me.”

“I am glad to see you. I’m just not glad to see you looking the way you do.”

“Sorry about that. I guess I could have cleaned up a bit, but I suspect that Yulver will want to sail with the tide.”

“Sail where?”

“North,” Lorik said. “We’re going to fight the Norsik.”

“It’s a fool’s errand,” Vera said.

“No it isn’t,” Lorik said. “You know how vicious they are. The Norsik are slavers. They’ll raid into Ortis for years if we don’t drive them back now.”

“It isn’t your fight. You’ll just be killed.”

“So? At least my death will have some meaning,” Lorik said.

“Death never has meaning, you fool.”

“Good gods, woman, what has happened to you? You sound like a bitter old crone.”

“You aren’t the only one with broken dreams, Lorik. You think this is how I imagined life outside the Marshlands?”

“At least you have Stone.”

“Until some drunken sailor or outlaw kills him. Then what do you suppose I’ll do?”

“Stone can take care of himself.”

“He was doing a pretty good job of that until today,” Vera said scathingly. “Of course now he’ll have to find another way to earn coin, and with his reputation tarnished, the ingrates here will only become more bold. You should have let him beat you.”

“Sorry, that’s not who I am.”

“You don’t even know who you are,” she said, the words felt like scorching brands burning into Lorik’s tortured soul. “You’re fighting because you feel like it will give meaning to your life, but you’ve already turned your back on everything that should have been important to you.”

“I’m not the one who left Hassell Point,” Lorik said angrily. “That was your plan, remember?”

“I do, but I also remember asking you to come with us.”

“You didn’t need me tagging along.”

“I didn’t? I didn’t need my best friend? Liam didn’t need a partner? It was your pride that kept you away, and now it’s your pride leading you to fight someone else’s war.”

Lorik was speechless. He had never considered that Vera might have needed him, or even Stone for that matter. He’d always assumed that his presence would be a burden. Guilt rose up inside of Lorik like bile, bitter and nauseating.

“I don’t care what else you do,” Vera continued. “But don’t drag Liam north. Don’t even offer the possibility to him. He’s desperate to find a place to belong, but I don’t intend to see him killed. I love him, Lorik. Do you understand that? Don’t take him away from me.”

“I’m not,” Lorik said. “I just... well, I don’t even know why I came here. I wanted to see you again, that’s all. I wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

Vera frowned. She was pretty in her own way, but not beautiful. Her normally jovial expression was marred now by worry and fear. She looked at Lorik with piercing eyes.

“Another drink?” the inn keeper asked timidly, setting down another pint of ale.

Lorik nodded but didn’t speak. His mind was spinning. Vera seemed different, and she was not happy to see him. The pain of her rebuke hurt the big teamster more than anything in the Pit. He had been lost when she left the Marshlands with Stone. He’d felt abandoned, although he knew he had no right to feel that way. Vera wasn’t his woman, just a friend. Still, it seemed that all the joy in his life had fled right along with her.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say.

“I know,” Vera said. “I am, too.”

“I’ll leave,” he said.

He stood up and drank some more of the ale. Then he set the wooden cup down and looked at Vera one last time.

“Good luck,” he said.

Then he turned and started walking toward the door.

“We leaving already?” Selber said in surprise.

“It’s time we got back to the ship,” Jons said.

“You sound like an old woman,” Selber said. “Would you quit worrying and loosen up a little? We’ve got plenty of time. Let’s find you a more lively establishment, eh, Lorik?”

Lorik didn’t answer. He walked to the door and was about to step outside when Stone entered. The two men looked at each other for a long moment. Then Lorik stepped back so that Stone could pass. Lorik could see that Stone was moving gingerly.

“You hurt?” he asked.

“Not permanently,” Stone replied. “Where are you going?”

“North,” Lorik said, starting to step around his friend.

“Wait, do you have to leave right now? Let’s have a drink. I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

“Another time, perhaps,” Lorik said.

Stone was surprised, but he didn’t try to stop Lorik from leaving. He stood aside and watched as Lorik left with Selber and Jons. Then Stone turned to Vera and saw tears streaking down her face.

Everything had changed, Lorik thought. He had always heard that you can’t go back to the way things were, and he was finding it to be true. His heart ached as he thought of Vera, her words echoing in his mind as he walked. He could feel his muscles starting to stiffen, but he welcomed the physical pain. He felt like he deserved it. He had honestly thought that he would be a burden to Vera and Stone when they left the Marshlands. They were newly in love and he didn’t want to crowd their relationship, but he had never thought about how his decision might affect them.

His lack of direction in life had become clear to him when Vera decided to leave Hassell Point, but, despite the time that had passed since she left, he still had found no real sense of purpose. He had joined the crew sailing north simply to have something to do, for a change of scenery. Hassell Point and even his own house seemed dead to him. He still had friends in the Marshlands, but the place seemed stagnant and lifeless to Lorik. It was as if he had stepped into the past and his life was moving on without him. So he had taken the first chance he got to leave the Point. Fighting for his countrymen seemed like a good idea, even noble, but he couldn’t shake the fact that he was rushing into someone else’s fight rather than doing what it took to discover his own purpose in life.

Vera was worried; that much was clear. But what exactly she was worried about he didn’t know. It could be that she was unhappy with life outside the Marshlands. Hassell Point was a pirate’s haven and home to outlaws, but it was also a small community where she knew the locals almost like family. With the king’s soldiers marching south, Ortis was quickly becoming a cold and unfriendly place. The people Lorik had met were bracing for hard times and trust was rare. Everyone he saw carried weapons, and the small fishing villages they had passed as they sailed north were either locked up or abandoned.

Still, Lorik doubted that the current state of events in Ortis was really bothering Vera. She had dealt with hardship in her life before. Her parents had died when she was just a teenager. She had come to love Lorik’s parents dearly, but they had passed away, too. Through it all he had never seen her lose her jovial disposition or her indomitable spirit. Now she seemed defeated, almost like she was on the verge of desperation. He wondered if Vera’s greatest concern was that Stone would want to follow Lorik. That made sense to the big teamster. Stone was a highly trained fighter. Lorik had seen Stone in action, taking on groups of pirates and raiders single-handedly. In fact, when Stone had wanted to partner with Lorik and learn to move cargo through the Marshlands, Lorik had trouble believing Stone was being honest with him.

The thing Lorik didn’t understand was why Vera worried that Stone would want to go north in the first place. It made sense that Stone would want to go, but he wouldn’t leave Vera behind. Stone might be killed fighting the Norsik, but as she herself had said, it wasn’t safe anywhere in Ortis at the moment. There had to be more to the fact that Stone might want to go north than Vera was letting on, but he had no way of discovering what it might be. His only choice was to honor her wishes.

“I know a little place,” Selber was saying to Lorik, although the big man hadn’t been listening very closely. “The wenches are clean and friendly. The ale is good, too. We’ve still got half a day before Yulver will want to weigh anchor. We should avail ourselves of our good fortune,” he added, holding up a fat purse.

“You were betting on the fights?” Lorik asked.

“Of course, my friend. I had no doubts in your abilities.”

“Did you bet against Stone? He almost beat me. In fact, he would have, if he hadn’t been trying not to hurt me.”

“I was never worried,” Selber said.

“You never worry about anything,” Jons said. “We should go back to the ship.”

“I don’t want smoked fish or stale bread,” Selber said. “We should at least eat something decent before going back.”

“Food sounds good,” Lorik said. “Then I’m going back to the ship. If you want to stay and frolic with the young maidens hereabouts, I won’t stop you.”

Selber smiled, but Jons frowned. Jons was a sober young man, a capable seaman, but cautious. He didn’t share Selber’s need for a good time, not when his captain had given him a task. He would stay with Lorik no matter what the teamster decided to do. Selber, on the other hand, had been waiting for an excuse to break free from the brooding teamster.

“All right, I’ll meet you both back on board in a few hours,” Selber said.

“Captain’s orders were to stay with Lorik,” Jons argued.

“Don’t worry. Let him go,” Lorik said. “I’m not looking for trouble.”

“But trouble’s found you, mate,” came a familiar voice from behind them.

Lorik turned quickly, wishing he had his battle axe with him now. Six men stood behind him, along with the fight promoter from the Pit, four of them easily as large as Lorik. Jons and Selber were capable fighters in their own right, each with small knives on their belts, but the men with the fight promoter were all armed with Hax knives or short swords.

“What the hell do you want?” Lorik said.

There were people gathering around them on the street, and they quickly cleared a space, most staying to watch what would happen. Lorik felt his anger rising again and had to struggle to keep his temper in check.

“I want the money you cost me,” the promoter said.

“It was a fair fight,” Lorik snapped. “You’ve no right to demand anything from us.”

“On the contrary, you knew my man and somehow convinced him to throw the fight.”

“Believe whatever you want, but Stone didn’t throw the fight. He’s a good man.”

“He’s a dead man, just as soon as I finish with you.”

“You’re going to murder us in the street, eh?” Lorik asked.

“Who’s to stop me?” the promoter said. “Not the three of you, I don’t think. I’ve seen you fight, but you’re unarmed and outnumbered. Give me the gold you won today and I’ll let you live.”

“Here,” said Selber, throwing the fat purse of coins into the street between them. “Now crawl back under the rock you came from.”

“I said I’d let you live,” the promoter said. “I never said I’d simply let you go. Show them what I mean,” he said to the men around him.

The six men moved forward, brandishing their weapons. Lorik’s hand clenched into fists and he had to force himself to relax. He knew fighting without a weapon required him to be fast and agile. The fact that he felt weak and tired didn’t give him much confidence, but he wasn’t about to let the slimy con artist’s thugs hurt Stone or Vera. Even if he died fighting, he would make sure that none of the six men survived.

“Jons, Selber, this isn’t your fight,” Lorik said.

“The hell it ain’t,” Selber said.

“I’ve got orders,” Jons said, his voice low and menacing. “I aim to see them through.”

“All right, let’s do it.”

The men rushed forward, raising their weapons. They clearly expected Lorik and his companions to run away. Instead they closed with their attackers. Selber was the first to strike. He threw his small knife, which he used on a daily basis on board the ship, straight at one attacker. The knife buried itself in the man’s chest, and he dropped dead into the dusty street.

Jons crossed his arms above his head to stop the overhanded strike from his nearest opponent, at the same time driving his knee into the man’s groin. Then he spun toward the next man, slashing with his small knife and cutting the attacker across the ribs before the man could connect with the short sword he was wielding. The man jumped back and nearly dropped his weapon as he doubled over in pain.

The three men approaching Lorik moved more slowly. They knew he didn’t have a weapon, but they had seen his skill in the Pit. They all held their Hax knives, thick-bladed heavy knives used as tools by seamen, low and in front of them. Lorik feinted, first one direction and then another, before rushing back toward the side of the street. The attacker closest to Lorik lashed out with his Hax knife but didn’t connect. Lorik grabbed the man’s arm and flung him into the second attacker, and they both tripped and fell. The third man rushed forward, attempting to run Lorik through.

Lorik used the palm of his hand to slap the blade to the side. His hand hit the blade on the flat side, but his timing was just slightly off, and the tip of the blade ripped a hole in Lorik’s shirt and gouged a deep scratch across his stomach that quickly welled with blood. Lorik hardly noticed the wound. He punched the attacker with a left hook that caught the man hard on the cheek. The punch staggered Lorik’s opponent, but he was a big man and he didn’t go down. Instead, the attacker raised his Hax knife, planning to stab it down into Lorik’s chest, but the teamster kicked his opponent between the legs hard enough that it lifted the man off the ground.

The attacker fell hard, but the other two men were back on their feet. Lorik had just enough time to snatch up the Hax knife that the fallen attacker had dropped. He used it to parry the first attacker’s thrust, but the second man slashed Lorik’s shoulder before he could sway back out of reach. The wound wasn’t deep, but the sight of blood caused the two men to renew their attack.

The first attacker swung his big knife at Lorik’s other shoulder, but Lorik blocked the blow with his Hax knife. Selber meanwhile jumped onto the second attacker’s back. The spry sailor with the potbelly wrapped an arm around the assailant’s neck and used the other to hold back the attacker’s weapon while using his teeth to bite the attacker’s ear. Selber bit hard like a wild animal, jerking his head back and then spitting the man’s ruined ear into the air along with a mouthful of blood.

Jons was busy warding off the short sword of the assailant he had already wounded. Lorik closed with his attacker, using the blade guard of his knife to push the other man’s weapon away. Then Lorik’s free hand grabbed the attacker’s throat. His wounded shoulder shot flaming tongues of pain up into Lorik’s neck and down his arm, but Lorik refused to let go. The man’s face turned red and he dropped his weapon to use both hands in an attempt to escape. Lorik slammed the butt of the Hax knife into the side of the man’s head. The attacker collapsed.

Two men were on the ground, moaning in pain and holding their groins. One was dead in the street with Selber’s knife protruding from his chest. Another was senseless, and a fifth had fled with only half an ear. Only Jons’s opponent was still in the fight, although the man was wounded and glancing nervously at the sailor in front of him and his companions on the ground around him.

“Finish him,” Lorik bellowed, as he turned to find the fight promoter, but the con artist had slipped away once he saw his thugs weren’t up to the task of defeating Lorik and his companions.

Lorik ran up the street, leaving the sailors behind. He had only one thought: he had to get back to the inn and warn Stone. Vera may not have wanted to join Lorik’s crusade, but they couldn’t stay in the village, not now that Lorik knew the fight promoter wanted Stone dead.