The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (11 page)

“Herthil balm?” I questioned, rubbing my temples in a circular motion.  It didn’t help.

“A mild antiseptic.
  Herthil blossoms are easy enough to find in this area,” he explained patiently.

“For a sawmill operator, you know a lot about this medical stuff,” I muttered as the pain in my chest began to garner attention. 

Briscott chuckled again, running a hand through his hair.  “My father—Loranis bless his soul—took care of quite a few sick animals in his day.” 

“Thanks for that information.  It’s good to know that if I get a lame leg, you’ll be there to put me out of my misery,” I replied, joking but still unable to bring myself to smile.  Apparently I’d been wrong with my prediction that Briscott’s presence could snap me from my dark thoughts.  I just felt so lost. 
So hopeless.  So broken.  So alone.  So useless.

With my eyes closed against the pain, I didn’t notice Briscott slide over beside me.  One of his hands went to my forehead, the other to my wrist to feel for a pulse.  “No sign of fever.  You’re doing much better than most.  You’ll make it through.”

That
brought a dry laugh from me.  “Great.  Always wanted to be a slave.”  I looked up to Briscott and saw eyes filled with deep sadness.  He had no response.

“How were you able to apply the herthil balm?” I asked, trying to keep from falling into silence in which my thoughts would be my only company.  “I couldn’t even get close to touching the area.”

“Jefren’s orders allow me to perform medical care if it’s necessary,” Briscott answered quietly.

“Oh.”  I dropped my hands from my temples and turned to the front of the cart.  Between the moonlight and the flickering lantern light, I could see that two of Jefren’s men were riding the horses pulling the cart.  There was no sign of anyone else or of the other two horses.  We were moving down a dirt road through open fields.  I had to have been asleep for hours.

I stretched my arms, pulling them behind my back to help alleviate the dull ache of my muscles.  When I rotated my neck to ease its stiffness, I was startled to see Kait’ sleeping beside me, her long black hair spilling out over a small cushion.  She was covered by a wool blanket.  I looked back to Briscott questioningly.

“She and Jefren are taking turns sleeping.  Jefren wants us moving through the night,” Briscott explained softly.  “Jefren’s been hanging behind on lookout for your Kolarin friend.  He’s got Kevrin with him.  He’ll probably be switching with Kaitlyne soon.  Ullian’s up ahead, scouting for the next town or village and watching for brigands.  Vhillin and Tagin are leading the wagon, and Oslen’s curled up over in that corner taking his turn at sleep.” 

I turned to see Oslen’s huddled shape in the corner.  I hadn’t even noticed him before then.  I scooted towards Briscott, feeling uneasy just being near Kait’.  Then I thought about the leeches that were under her sleeves and scooted a little further.

Briscott’s eyebrows arched, sympathy shining through his eyes.  “I’d get some more blighted sleep if I were you.  You’ll be put to work tomorrow.  We don’t get much opportunity for rest.  Only two of us are allowed to sleep at any given time.  There are always two of us on watch, one out hunting.  Everything is broken into four-hour shifts.  Tonight’s a bit different, though.  We usually don’t move through the night.  For now, only one of us gets to sleep at a time.  Well, except for me.  I’ve been tasked to solely watch you.  It’s allowed me some time to read for once.”  He gestured to the book he had laid on the floor of the cart.

“That doesn’t sound like a good way to have you all in any condition to protect the two of them.  You’d think they’d want you well rested,” I whispered, finding myself terrified to wake Kait’.  She just about had full control of me, and I in no way wanted her to abuse that control if I disturbed her sleep.

Briscott sighed.  “They just rely on these rocks to work us through our blighted tiredness.  The blighted truth is that it works.”  Briscott loved to pepper his talk with curses.  “Blighted” was a new one for me.  It must‘ve been something native to Gualain.

I turned my gaze up to the sky.  The moon was half-covered with dark clouds, only a few stars visible.  “This is just ridiculous.  Do they really expect to be able to take on these undead you told me about with just a few enslaved soldiers?  This just seems like a drawn-out death sentence.”

“Their plans have changed,” Briscott replied soberly.  “We’re being put to a new blighted use, one that’s been inspired by your admission to be traveling to the Wizard Academy.”

My eyes jerked snapped back to Briscott.  “What do you mean?”

“Since you believe the Kolarin will likely be coming after us or making his way there, Jefren feels we should just head toward Tahron so that he’ll either find us or we’ll catch up to him.”

I shook my head.  “That doesn’t make any sense.  What if he doesn’t do what I think he will?  Why would Jefren take us closer to the Wizard Academy when we may not even find him that way?  I thought Jefren wanted to stay away from Tahron and its wizards.”

Briscott took in a deep breath, his eyes dropping to the cart’s bed.  “The new plan is to take us into Tahron.  Not to the Wizard Academy, but to towns along Tahron’s borders.  Kaitlyne believes that we’ll find plenty of wizards in those towns, ones that we can sequester and take on with our current resources.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, taken aback.  “They plan for us to attack wizards?” 

Briscott bit his lip, nodding.  “Jefren and Kaitlyne still have more than a dozen of the rocks.  Their plan is for us to capture as many wizards as we can and . . .
”  He trailed off, gesturing to his chest.

Every muscle in my face and neck
tightened, a reaction that certainly didn’t help the excruciating pain in my head.  “That’s just crazy.  No, make that stupid,” I argued, turning my eyes down to Kait’ to make sure my raised voice hadn’t woken her.  Thankfully, the only movement from her was the rhythmic breathing of sleep.

“Aye, that it is,” one of the men riding the horses called back with a sharp voice.  I looked up to see Vhillin turned towards us.  Apparently our discussion had been loud enough for him to overhear.  His curly brown hair bounced with his each of his horse’s steps. 
“Averinax-blooded stupid, the lot of ’em.”  With that, he turned back to the road ahead. 

I gestured towards Vhillin.  “Not much for conversation, is he?” 

“You won’t get much out of any of these men,” Briscott answered.  “I’m surprised we just got that.”

I nodded, pinching the bridge of my nose as if it would alleviate the daggers stabbing into my eyeballs.  “So,” I mused, “Jefren’s wondrously brilliant plan is to turn wizards into slaves, then
march to Gualain and use them as weapons against the monsters there.  You were his friend, right?  Couldn’t you talk some sense into him?”

Briscott shrugged.  “Like I said, he’s not quite right in the head anymore,” he whispered.  He nodded towards Kait’.  “And she’s right blighting there with him.  I’ve given up trying to talk sense into anyone.  I just try to find happiness where I can and pretend the rest is just a dream.”  He smiled, his eyes still sad, though.

I leaned back on my elbows and shut my eyes again, trying to ignore the pain ripping through the inside of my skull.  My other pains didn’t hold a candle to its brutal intensity.  “I might try to find some happiness once my head quits feeling like a war drum during battle.”

“That doesn’t go away,” Briscott replied.  “You really should get some more sleep.  It’ll give you a reprieve from the pain.”

“I don’t think that’s likely at this point,” I uttered.

We rode in silence for a couple hours after that.  I didn’t know what to say.  Everything just seemed so hopeless.  I spent most of my time trying to think of a way to get myself out of the mess I was in.  However, I could not come up with even a ghost of a plan.

I hoped that Til’ wasn’t sticking around to rescue me and instead was making his way to the Wizard Academy.  If he could stay far enough ahead of us, he could possibly find Sal’ and free Max.  Then, just maybe they could all come for me and figure out how to free me from my slavery.  I would put Sal’ and Max against Jefren and his gang any day.  Well, Max at least.  Sal’ was still a little hit or miss with casting magic. 

Really, though, I didn’t relish the thought of my friends risking themselves for me, no matter how miserable my situation was.  The last thing I needed was my friends to become slaves as well.  If Jefren was going to enslave wizards, he sure as hell wasn’t getting Max and Sal’ if I could help it. 

I couldn’t understand how Jefren could think his plan was going to work.  He was going to get us all killed.  If I was to be killed by a wizard, I preferred it to it be Raijom during a fight to the death.  I mean, I’d rather be the victor in that scenario, but I’d take death at his hands before some random wizard due to Jefren’s addled stupidity. 

Briscott read for a while before blowing out his lantern and curling up on the cramped cart bed.  Just when I decided to try to get a few hours of sleep myself, Jefren came trotting up on one of the dappled mares he had acquired from Til’ and me.  Kevrin came running, breathless, behind him.  Jefren must have been forcing Kevrin to keep up with him on foot the whole night. 

“Hold,” Jefren yelled, his hoarse voice cracking.  The cart shuddered as Vhillin and Tagin reined their horses.

Beside me, Briscott jerked awake.  Kait’ sat up groggily, her eyes narrowed to weary slits.  When she saw me, her lips curled into a tired smile.  “Well, well, well,” she said through a stretching yawn.  Without another word, she was up and hopping over the back of the cart.

I sat up straighter to take in what was going on in the light of the moon.  Kait’ ambled to Jefren, offering a hand to help him dismount.  Jefren just stared at her untrustingly before dismounting on his own.  Kait’s eyes gleamed with amusement as Jefren stepped past her.  Jefren motioned for Kait’ to follow him, and they walked off into the night. 

Kevrin made his way to the cart and clambered over the back, appearing haggard and weary.  Kevrin was a thick-muscled man with a scraggly blond beard and short-cropped hair.  He wore a black leather cuirass like the one Briscott had worn the night he shot an arrow at me, though he was in the process of unbuckling and removing it. 

Kevrin stepped to the front of the cart, nodding at me as if in acknowledgment of my survival.  Without a word, he shook Oslen from his slumber.  With a few muttered curses, Oslen rose up, standing a head shorter than Kevrin, and held out a hand in acceptance of the cuirass Kevrin had removed.  It suddenly occurred to me that Jefren made the others wear the cuirasses when away from camp so as to keep hidden.  Given the green glow bleeding from under my shirt, it made sense.

“Yer ta watch for the K’larin wit Katlin when she’s done talkin’ wit Jefren,” Kevrin grumbled with a backwoods accent, still catching his breath. 

Oslen wordlessly grunted in response as he shrugged into the cuirass.  He started forward, rubbing at his eyes.  Before climbing off the wagon, he spotted me sitting next to Briscott and gave me a look that was somewhere between pitying and impressed. 

“Didn’t think a scrawny young thing like you would make it,” he admitted bluntly.

“Sorry to disappoint,” I muttered, unable to keep the irritation from my voice.  People always seemed to underestimate me because of my youthful appearance and my size.  Could they not identify the lithe and lean build of a fighter?  Just because I didn’t have biceps the size of my head didn’t mean I was weak. 

Maybe I was just extra sensitive about the subject because of the agonizing pain I was in.  I couldn’t understand how I could have a gem embedded in my chest and a stitched-up shoulder wound, yet could barely even tell over the pain in my head.

Oslen had no reply and simply jumped to the ground over the back of the cart.  He just stood there with his thick arms crossed, awaiting Kait’s return from her conversation with Jefren.

I slumped forward, resting my elbows on my thighs and pressing my clasped hands against my hanging forehead.  “There’s no hope for us, is there, Briscott?” I whispered, not even knowing if he’d hear me. 

Briscott’s hand gripped my uninjured shoulder.  “It’s only when we give up hope that there’s none left.”  His voice had taken on a friendly tone once again.  I looked over to see him smiling at me.  “Loranis will see us through.”

Given my relationship with religion, I could’ve laughed, but instead made a weak attempt at giving Briscott a reassuring smile in return.

Jefren and Kait’ returned to the cart not long after setting out to talk.  Oslen joined Kait’, the two of them disappearing into the night.  Jefren climbed up onto the cart, eyeing Briscott and me suspiciously.  His eyes were sunken and drained. 

“I see you’re all right,” he stated huskily, his bushy eyebrows drawing down.  “Kait’ better be right about you.  I don’t need dead weight holding us back, using up our resources.  Thanks to the supplies Briscott and Tagin were able to get in trade for one of your Kolarin friend’s wood carvings, we can travel through the night for the next couple of days.  We may be able to make it to Tahron on what we make from the rest.  For that, I will give you a chance.”  His tone indicated that I should consider myself lucky for that chance.

I’d forgotten that Til’ kept a couple pieces of woodwork stashed in his saddlebags.  Jefren probably planned on selling the rest in a city where he would get some good money for it.  The thought of Jefren using Til’s woodwork to finance his insane quest angered me.  And when anger gets the best of me . . .