The Forever Knight: A Novel of the Bronze Knight (Books of the Bronze Knight) (9 page)

“It isn’t human, that’s for sure,” said Fallon. “It comes at night, looking for me, prowling outside the palace. Nine feet tall at least.”

“You’ve seen it?”

Fallon shook his head. “No. But Marilius has.”

“So?” I looked at Marilius. “What’s it like?”

“Like Anton said, Lukien—a monster. I barely even got a look at it.”

“When was that?”

Marilius shrugged. “About a week ago.”

“Right before he left me,” sneered Fallon. “After the worst attack.”

“Mercenaries don’t stick around when things get too tough,” I said. “Now I know why you left, Marilius. The only thing I don’t understand is why you came back.”

“And that’s none of your concern, Lukien. Are you going to help us or not?”

“I still haven’t heard a good reason why I should.”

“Because I’m rich,” said Fallon. “And I can make you rich, too.”

“Not interested. Marilius should have told you I’m not a mercenary anymore.”

“He’s a knight-errant,” said Marilius sarcastically. “Lukien wants to do good, Anton.”

“Well then, it’s killed people,” said Fallon, dangling that fact like a treat. “Not just soldiers but townspeople too. Almost a dozen now.”

I tried to look unmoved. “Maybe the townsfolk should leave.”

Fallon grinned. “Or maybe you’re afraid, Sir Lukien?”

“I’m not afraid of anything, Fallon. Not dying and certainly not your monster. I just don’t want us involved.”

“Bullshit,” said Marilius. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to get involved. You came to the Bitter Kingdoms looking for trouble, Lukien, you and that sword of yours. You want to prove what a big man you are? Here’s your chance.”

“Marilius, I don’t think I’m the one trying to prove himself here,” I said with a wink. “Besides . . . my business is in Akyre.”

“Oh, right,” said Marilius. “Time for a rematch with Wrestler. Go ahead, take Cricket to Akyre. Get your neck broken again. But just remember those people you saw on the road, Lukien. That’s what Diriel is like. That’s what you’ll be riding into if you leave here.”

“Or you can stay!” said Fallon brightly. He reached a hand across the table toward Cricket. “Let me help you figure out who you are, child. You’ll be safe here.”

“
If
you help us beat this monster, Lukien,” said Marilius.

Now they had me stumped. Fallon, Marilius, even the servants—they all waited, staring like helpless kittens. But the only one I really cared about was Cricket.

“Cricket, walk with me.”

I got out of my chair and started toward the other side of the pool, where the sea lapped into the palace. Cricket quickly followed. Out of earshot I said, “I’m lost here, squire. I can’t make this decision without you.”

“What about Malator?” she asked. “What’s he think you should do?”

“I haven’t asked him, and I’m not going to. These are our lives, Cricket. We can leave right now. We can head back toward Akyre and take our chances, maybe try to find that waterfall of yours, shake lose some of your memories.”

“We could,” agreed Cricket. “But I know you, Lukien. You want to fight this thing because no one else can beat it. And you want to pay your debt to Marilius for saving us.”

“Cricket, Fallon is out of his mind. And I can’t be sure, but I think he and Marilius are lovers.”

“What?” Cricket stifled her laugh with her hand. “Honestly!”

I just shook my head. “This is madness. Malator showed me a monster before we left Jador. And I saw a monster in my dreams. It’s all connected, Cricket—the monster, the Legion of the Lost, everything.”

“Then that’s your answer, Lukien. You found your mission.”

“I already have a mission, Cricket. You.”

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere, Lukien, don’t you worry. I’m your squire. I want to see this beasty for myself!”

I didn’t tell Cricket why I really wanted to find this monster. I didn’t tell her that day or any other day. This monster stalking Anton Fallon, this unnamed, unseen thing—how could it not be the same beast Malator had drawn? It wasn’t just after Fallon, it was after Cricket, too. And if it was after Cricket, that meant it had to die.

W
e rode out from Isowon at dawn the next morning, the new day’s sunlight gleaming off my old bronze armor. Cricket had spent much of the night making it ready, insisting I wear it to battle the beast. She had polished the breast plate into a satiny mirror, removing every bit of grime. She worked proudly, like a real squire, and rode at my side on her well-groomed pony, her cape of rass skin on her shoulders like a trophy.

Marilius rode at point, leading us east along the coast. Before he’d fled Isowon for Arad, other of Fallon’s men had tracked a trail of blood this same way. They never found the monster, just the skeletal remains of their fellow mercenaries. Still, they suspected the creature made its lair in the hills at the mouth of the Dovra River—almost a day’s ride from Fallon’s palace.

No one seemed to know why the creature only attacked at night, or why it made its home so far from its intended prey. I puzzled over this as we rode.

Before long we were out of Isowon’s shadow, leaving the protection of the palace far behind. For the first time in months—maybe even years—I felt like a knight again, like a Royal Charger, confident and ready to face Fallon’s monster. I’d made a terrible mistake when fighting Wrestler—I had left my sword behind. This time, Malator and all his magic would be with me. Whatever the creature might be, it was mortal, and I was not, and that meant I could kill it. I made the link with Malator as we rode, speaking to him wordlessly while Cricket and Marilius made small talk of their own.

You’ve been quiet
, I told him.
Any advice?

I expected Malator to be petulant over being excluded. Instead he was pensive.
This is why you came here
,
Lukien
, he said.
Maybe now we’ll have some answers.

You still don’t know what the monster is?

I do not.

But you’ve been thinking about it, right?
I sighed out loud.
Come on, Malator—you saw death when you drew that picture in the sand.

You saw death, Lukien. I saw a monster.

But you told me not to take Cricket with me! Why? Because of the monster?

Lukien, I can only tell you what I know. And I can’t know everything, remember?

His answer unnerved me.
This will be our fight, Malator
, I said.
We’ll face this thing together. Whatever it is.

I’ll do my best.

Hey . . . your best?
I stared ahead as I rode, but my mind’s eye fixed on him.
Malator, are you afraid?

It’s always wise to be a little afraid before battle. You know that.

“Lukien?”

I awoke as if from a trance. Cricket was bouncing along next to me, excited. “Huh?”

“I told Marilius about the waterfall. He knows it, Lukien!”

“Waterfall?”

“The place with the
stream
,” she said, annoyed. “The place I dreamt about, remember? I dreamt about it again last night.”

“It’s Sky Falls,” said Marilius. Then he shrugged. “Probably.”

“Sky Falls . . .” Cricket’s eyes went dreamy. “Yes.”

“Yes, you remember it?” I asked.

“No, but that must be it. I can feel it, Lukien. Marilius described it just like I picture it. Tell him, Marilius.”

“Not much to tell,” said Marilius. “It’s up in Akyre near the border with Kasse. Part of the Dovra River. People go there to see it. Or they used to before the war. It’s well known.”

I wasn’t convinced. “That’s not much to go on. There could be a hundred waterfalls up there, right?”

“Maybe, but why would Cricket know about any of them? She’s just a kid. I figure the only one she could have seen is Sky Falls.”

“It is Sky Falls,” Cricket insisted. “Lukien, can we go?”

I looked at Marilius. “How safe is it?”

“To swim? It’s a waterfall.”

“Not the waterfall, idiot—what about the area? Can we get there safely?”

“No chance. Diriel’s men are on the march all around there.”

“But that’s the place,” said Cricket desperately. “I remember the ferns, the boulders—everything Marilius described.”

“And the caves,” said Marilius. “There’s little caves around the cliff—remember?”

Cricket blinked quickly. “I don’t remember caves. Oh, but that’s the place. We have to go, Lukien!”

“We’ll try, Cricket.”

“When?”

“As soon as we can.”

Her dark eyes grew skeptical. “When, Lukien?”

I didn’t want to tell her how much I mistrusted her memories. “When we’re done with this mission. We’ll kill this monster, then we’ll ride for Sky Falls.”

“Promise?”

“Cricket, you’re my squire. Everything I say to you is a promise.”

*   *   *

“Look at that,” said Cricket. She pointed up ahead toward a sparkling lake, circled in shade by a vanguard of trees. “What do you say, Lukien?”

It had been hours since our last rest. Marilius was sure we’d reach the mouth of the river by dusk. Finally, I saw the chance I’d been waiting for.

“Yeah, good idea,” I told Cricket. “Ride up ahead. Make sure it’s clear.”

“Really?” Cricket studied the way ahead. The flat road led clearly to the lake. “Why?”

“Because I said so. Ride on, squire.”

With a shrug Cricket drove her pony forward, leaving me with Marilius. Marilius watched her go without saying a word. When she was far enough ahead, he let out a heavy breath.

“All right, she’s gone,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

He’d been waiting for it.

“Anton Fallon,” I kept my one eye straight ahead as we rode. “I’m guessing you’re more than just his hireling. Now listen: it makes no difference to me what a man does for his pleasures. I just want to know what I’m getting into with you both. Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll say no more about it.”

“You’re not wrong,” said Marilius. “It’s obvious.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why he made you a captain?”

Marilius nodded. He looked ashamed and very, very young. “I shouldn’t have let him. But it was a place for me to stay. Anton knew what I was and didn’t care. You show me one other man who would have kept me on as a soldier after knowing what I am.”

“I can’t,” I admitted. “I spent my whole life soldiering. Men like you don’t usually last too long. How long have you been with him?”

“Two months. I came down from Norvor to hire on as a freelance. I heard Anton Fallon had all the money so I went to him first. He liked me, and I liked him. The rest just happened.”

“So I was right about you trying to prove yourself. And I bet that’s why you took up soldiering in the first place.”

“How’d you know that?”

“I see it all the time. Men are always running away from things and thinking that becoming a soldier can fix it. Fix
them
.” As soon as I said it I thought about my own life. “Seen it all before.”

Marilius and I slowed our horses. I turned my head to look at him—really look at him. I knew his story. Somewhere there was a father that disapproved, or a brother, maybe. Somewhere, someone important to him had made up their minds and decided he wasn’t good enough.

“I ran, Lukien,” he said suddenly. His face turned ashen. “I was scared. I’m scared right now. I don’t want to see that thing again. If not for you I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Everyone gets scared, Marilius. Being scared isn’t the problem. Running away and staying away—that’s the problem.”

“But you don’t get scared. I saw the way you went after Wrestler. And when Anton told you about the monster you didn’t even think twice. That’s the way I want to be. But I’ll never be that way because I’m a—”

He stopped himself.

“What?” I pressed. “What are you, Marilius? A boy-lover?” I laughed. “Stupid. It’s so stupid! Listen, you know the worst kinds of men to have in battle? Men that don’t give a damn. You have to love men to be a soldier. You’re not a coward, Marilius. If you were a coward you wouldn’t be here. If you were a coward you never would have come back.”

Marilius let a tiny smile supplant his frown. “Did you ever love a man, Lukien?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “Not in the way you mean, maybe, but yes. There once was a man I loved almost more than my own life.”

“Who?” wondered Marilius. “King Akeela?”

I turned in surprise. “How’d you know about Akeela?”

“I told you—I know a lot about you, Lukien.”

“Yeah, well . . .” I rode on, uncomfortable. “I don’t talk much about Akeela these days. I’m the one that killed him, after all.”

“His madness killed him,” said Marilius. “That’s what I heard.”

“I drove him to that madness. Make no mistake about that, Marilius. Whatever else you hear about me, know this: I am a king-slayer. I’ll bear that guilt all the way to whatever hell awaits me. You’re a better lover of men than I am.”

“Ah, now you mock me.”

“No, I do not,” I said seriously. “Whatever you are, you’re no coward. Don’t let a father label you a failure. Don’t let any man. You’ve got courage inside you. I see it. I promise—when the time comes, you’ll know what to do.”

T
he Bitter Kingdoms were nothing like my old home in Liiria. They were rocky and harsh and wholly ugly, and I had never thought to feel at ease there until the end of that day’s ride, when we finally reached the river valley. There, with dusk just touching us, we saw the hills with the pine trees Marilius had promised, the land sloping gently downward toward a hidden dell. I could smell the river too, the musk of it like the River Kryss where I’d fought so long ago. It felt like I had stumbled again into one of Malator’s made-up dreamscapes, with birds chirping in the trees and long shadows touching the land. I took a breath, shocked by the sweetness of the air. How could this be the place?

“Here?” I looked around, slowing Zephyr, my exhausted horse. “You’re sure your monster isn’t a bear, maybe?”

Marilius seemed more nervous than usual. Instead of just slowing his horse, he brought it completely to a stop. “Let’s wait here,” he said. “It’ll be dark by the time we get deep enough into the valley.”

“Wait?” said Cricket. “For what?”

“For it to find us,” said Marilius. “It comes out at night, remember? It probably already knows we’re here.”

I looked ahead, studying the dell and surrounding hills. “We’ll find its lair,” I told Marilius. “Better to kill it while it sleeps than have it find us first.”

“The valley’s full of caves, Lukien. We’ll be groping around like blind men. Better to wait till morning, when it’s light.”

“There’s enough sunlight to get started,” I said. I looked at Marilius, not wanting to embarrass him. Yes, he was afraid, but there was something else, too. “We should go on . . . don’t you think?”

“Let’s go,” said Cricket anxiously. “Before it wakes up!”

“Look at those cliffs,” said Marilius, pointing ahead. “If we enter the dell it’ll be able to trap us. It may already know we’re here. We should stay where there’s room to fight.”

It was worth considering. The hills did indeed close in around the dell, but I wanted to see it for myself. “Fallon said it only comes at night, right?”

Reluctantly, Marilius nodded.

“Then maybe it only
can
come out at night. Maybe it sleeps during the day, like a rass.”

“The day’s almost over, Lukien. If the monster hasn’t wakened yet then it soon will. I say we stay and wait for it here, out in the open.”

“Oh, let’s decide!” said Cricket. “Before it finds us!”

“Easy, squire. The last time I went off without thinking I got my neck broken, remember?” I looked west toward the setting sun, then ahead toward the dell. Bare minutes of sunlight remained. We could strike a camp, I thought . . . But no.

“We go on,” I decided. “If this thing does have a lair we should find it.”

Cricket bounced in her saddle. “I’m ready.”

Marilius frowned. “Me first, then,” he said. At his side hung the beat-up sword he’d spent the night sharpening. He drew the blade as he urged his horse slowly forward, his eyes lighting up like embers. I didn’t need to tell Cricket to stay close. She stuck beside me as I followed Marilius, my ears alert to every breeze and chirping bird. I sensed Malator inside my sword, felt his essence searching out in front of me.

Malator? Anything?

Yes.

His certainty startled me.
Where? Do you see it?

This place . . .
He paused as if looking around.
This is where it comes from.

Is it awake?

It’s . . . alive.

Where is it, Malator? Does it see us?

Malator fell silent. I could almost feel him putting up a hand to quiet me. I thought of slowing down, maybe stopping until he answered, but Marilius was already far ahead. Cricket rode next to me, stiff with fear.

“Breathe,” I whispered.

With one giant sigh she let out the air she’d been holding.

It’s hiding
, said Malator finally.

I nodded.
A trap. What is it, Malator?

A monster, Lukien. Just like they said.

“Marilius,” I called out. “It’s up ahead.”

Marilius snapped his head around. “How do you know?”

“I just do. It’s not sleeping. It’s waiting for us in the dell.”

“Waiting for the darkness, I bet.” Marilius reined in his horse. “What do you want to do?”

“Find it,” I said. “Let it think it has us trapped.” At last I drew my sword, angered at the thought of being stalked. Marilius brought his horse around again, about to continue. He sniffed the air.

“Ugh! What the hell is that?”

The shifting breeze carried the smell over to Cricket and me. Cricket hurried a hand over her mouth.

“Fate above!” She turned away, shutting her eyes and clamping shut her nose.

I barely had to inhale—the stench struck me all at once. The smell of rot, like an open grave. Marilius strained to control his dancing horse. The breeze rolled out of the dell, bearing with it the unimaginable stink. Cricket pulled up her cape to shield her face. I held my breath as I wondered what it was.

“The monster?” Cricket guessed.

“No, it didn’t stink,” said Marilius. “Only corpses smell like that!”

I’d trudged through enough battlefields to know he was right. “Malator,” I said out loud, “What else do you see?”

Malator was quiet, but I could feel his confusion.
Find it, Lukien.

“But what is it?”

I cannot say.

“Cannot?” I spat. “Or won’t?”

I’m not a god, Lukien. I don’t know everything. Find it for yourself.

His answer wasn’t angry, just matter of fact, and I was too confused to argue. I drove my horse forward, catching up to Marilius and urging him onward. Together with Cricket we rode for the dell, staring at the long-faced hills. The trees tightened around us, funneling us forward, the stench growing more unbearable. A fly flittered past me, then another and more, until I spotted a swarm of them ahead, and the heap of flesh they feasted on.

“God’s death!” screeched Marilius. He moved to block Cricket’s way, but she’d already seen it. Her face flashed purple, then up came her breakfast, right over the side of her pony.

I left them behind, moving up slowly, forgetting the monster as I spied the hill of body parts. Bones and rags of skin sat rotting in a pile, withers-high to my horse. I stared, disgusted and confounded, watched by the dead eye of a half-chewed human skull. An outstretched arm beckoned me with rigored fingers. Blood-crusted fur and bits of people wriggled with maggots. I saw an antler in the pile sticking up like a flag, the scrap of a uniform caught in its tines. Decaying entrails dripped watery bile into the soil. I choked down a rush of vomit.

“Cricket, don’t come closer,” I shouted.

“Oh, don’t!” She turned away from the heap completely, wiping the puke from her mouth. She waved at me with her free hand. “Just get away from it!”

But I was too shocked to look away. Blood never bothered me but this did. I stared, watching the maggots bring the mass to life, the squirming of old bowels and shit. Behind me Marilius was saying something. Cricket kept puking, and Malator . . .

Lukien!

Why didn’t I hear him? It was only when the mound started moving that I realized Malator was shouting. My horse wheeled beneath me, ready to bolt. The mound of bones and bodies shivered, shedding flesh and scurrying the flies. Malator hollered in my brain, warning me back. I just stared like a dullard. Slowly, impossibly, the hill tumbled toward me, surrounding the hooves of my snorting horse as the creature emerged, rising up out of the limbs and cast-off bones.

No good gods had created the thing I saw. It was wholly unnatural, made from the very skeletons and skins it had burrowed beneath. It climbed into the sky, towering over me astride my horse, its bony head the stolen skull of an ox. A ladder of broken spines made its backbone, the ribs of its varied victims forming its chest. Four legs protruded from its vaguely human shape, the two in front capped at the knees by mismatched skulls, the other pair dangling behind it. It made its arms from borrowed bones, using goat horns for fingers. In fact the thing was armored in bones, human and otherwise, an absurd and ghastly mishmash of corpses hung with rags of flesh.

This was the thing stalking my dreams. Nine feet over the ground, its dead-eyed ox head looked at me. I searched for a heart inside its ribs but saw instead a glowing darkness. Nothing alive seemed within it. I spun Zephyr free of the filth around his hooves, out where I could fight. Cricket and Marilius started toward me.

“Back!” I cried.

They reined in their mounts. The creature, whatever it was, pulled free of the stinking mound, then stopped as if guarding the dell.

“It’s different now,” said Marilius. “It was just skins when I saw it.”

“But what is it?” asked Cricket. “What
is
it?”

“A monster, I told you!”

I quickly rubbed Zephyr’s neck to calm him. I needed him now. And Malator.

Malator? Are you with me?
I asked, gripping the sword tighter.

I felt him pour into me.
Like thunder, Lukien.

Rage is all I know in battle, and rage was all I felt. I silenced the others with a wave, raised the Sword of Angels, then cried out and charged. Zephyr shot forward, straight for the beast. The sockets of its two dead eyes turned against us. I drew back my sword, turning my arm to steel, spying the heartless chest of the thing, the pulsing darkness behind its stolen ribs. It hunched to meet the blow, unafraid. Zephyr galloped forward, splashing through the gore. A single bony arm came up, big as a tree limb. I ducked beneath it easily, saw my mark . . .

I swung the sword. I hit the mark. And then like fire it struck me. Unimaginable, burning pain, turning my arm to water in my armor. I think I screamed. I know I fell from horseback. The sword tumbled out of my hand, over and over my head until it hit the ground beside me. I tasted dirt in my mouth. I rolled to recover, but my arm felt broken, almost useless. Cricket ran to me, grabbing my breastplate. Marilius was over her, still on horseback.

“The horse!” he cried, and I didn’t know why.

I staggered to my feet, felt the shadow of the creature, and shoved Cricket away.

“Move!” I shouted, and turned to see Marilius. His horse bucked wildly, fighting him. My own horse had tangled in the bones of the beast, its slapping reins wrapped around a pair of elk ribs. Marilius whirled his mount around to push me backward.

“Lukien, run!”

My sword! I scrambled to find it. Cricket rushed it into my hand.

“Come on!” she cried, tugging at my hair. Marilius was still in front of me. I shouldered past him to get to Zephyr, watching as my horse—my brave and beautiful horse—kicked its way free of the beast and ran.

“Zephyr, go!”

I ran forward, screaming, as the monster came at me, its ox skull animated, the four legs coming alive beneath it. Again it met my sword, and again that icy fire surged up my arm. This time I managed to keep the sword in hand, spinning for another blow. Pain roared up my arm, rattling the bones and burning the skin. Malator cloaked me in his magic. Up went the creature’s enormous hand, slapping hard against my breastplate, sending me tumbling. I shook off the pain and rose again.

“Cricket, Marilius, run now! Run!”

Marilius galloped toward me. He raised his sword, charging past me like a mad man. His blade glanced the monster’s hide and shattered. Marilius screamed, holding up his hand. I could see the red and blistered skin, already charred. He managed his horse, turning it back toward Cricket, who once again was coming for me.

“You stay there, god-damn it!” I shouted.

Marilius brought his horse in front of her, guarding her. I looked up into the monster’s eyes, those two black holes crawling with insects, and summoned the rest of my strength.

“Whatever you are, demon, whatever hell you came from, hear me—I am forever! Cursed and immortal!”

It lowered its head, its uneven horns twisting in thought, as though pondering what I was. I braced myself, holding the sword in both hands now, my sword arm still shrieking in pain. It took one hulking step, its fleshless nostrils sniffing me. Then like a dog it sprang, its goat horn fingers seizing my shoulders, forcing me down and pinning me to the dirt. I struggled, trying to drive the sword into it, but all its weight and fire pressed on me, cooking me inside my armor.

“Malator! Strengthen me!”

The great ox skull hovered over my face, and I looked into those maggoty eyes, hypnotized by the living emptiness. I swear, whatever soul I had fled my body. The monster was inside me, searching me, raging in my mind even as Malator fought to free me. The breath spilled from my lungs, filling with fire instead. I wanted to scream but couldn’t. Darkness soaked my brain, and I felt my one eye closing, closing . . .

And then it was off me. It rose up, retracting its bony limbs, and with one last questioning look regarded me. Then the thing turned and stalked toward the dell. I sputtered, coughing blood from my seared lungs, fighting unconsciousness. My fingers coiled around the sword, hungry for its power.

It’s gone
, spoke Malator.
Hold on.

“After it,” I choked. “Marilius, help me.”

Cricket hovered over me, wiping the blood from my mouth with her sleeve. Marilius swooped down from his horse.

“We’re getting out of here,” he said. “Cricket, help me with him.”

“It’s escaping . . .”

“Lukien, my shoulder,” ordered Cricket, burrowing under my arm to lift me. “Come on, onto the horse.”

I could barely feel my arm. Words bubbled from my bloody lips. “Why’d it go? It let me live.”

“Stop talking,” snapped Marilius. With Cricket’s help he hoisted me into the saddle. “Hold on to that damn sword. Go, Cricket!”

Cricket snatched the reins. Quickly she pulled the horse back the way we’d come. I don’t remember much of anything after that. My vision dimmed as I surrendered to nothingness, but I wasn’t afraid. I couldn’t die, no matter what the creature dealt me. As sleep took me I heard Marilius’s voice, at once taunting and sweet.