The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (12 page)

“Be sure to save some of that money to have someone take care of those eyebrows,” I quipped, immediately regretting my words.  Jefren could literally do
anything
to punish me and I wouldn’t be able to do a damned thing about it. 

His eyes widened in rage, and he backhanded me with a leather bracer.  I only felt the pain for a brief second before my headache resumed its dominance.  “For punishment, on my command, you will get out of this cart and run to meet up with Kaitlyne,” he sneered. 

Eyes still flaring, he continued, “Once you catch up to them, you will run back to this cart without stopping until you catch up to us.  Then, if you’re ready to apologize, I may let you ride until morning.”

“You can’t,” Briscott cut in desperately.  “He’s still recovering.  He may not
blighting live through such exertion.”

“He should’ve thought about that before trying to be clever with me,” Jefren rasped.

“But—”

“You will not talk back to me!”  Jefren’s raised voice drew Vhillin’s and Tagin’s eyes, their horses dancing nervously.

Briscott’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.  Jefren smiled darkly.  “That goes for all of you,” he announced.  “You are not to argue against my orders.”  Briscott sighed and dropped his head, now unable to dispute Jefren’s punishment for me. 

Jefren retrieved something wrapped in cloth from behind him and handed it to me.  “Just in case,” he grinned.  I unrolled the long, cloth-wrapped bundle.  Inside was my shortsword and belt.  There was no sign of my dagger.  I was pretty sure he wasn’t giving my sword back for my safety, but to plainly reinforce the fact that I couldn’t use my weapons against him. 
Bastard. 

“Put them on,” Jefren commanded. 
“Vhillin.  Tagin.  Get us moving.”  The cart started forward. 

My hands involuntarily wrapped the belt around my waist and buckled on the scabbard.  After that, we all sat in silence.  Jefren was allowing Kait’ and Kevrin to put distance between themselves and the cart. 
Again, bastard.

Jefren’s vicious eyes eventually turned to me.  “You may start your punishment now.”

Moments later, I was running down the dark road.  Blood trickled down my stomach, and my shoulder began to throb.  Not far into my run, blood started oozing from my shoulder, the stitches finally relenting to the strain.  My body was weak, and each breath was like fire ripping through my chest.  My body continued on against its will, however, though my mind wanted me to collapse. 

It was no surprise that Kait and Jefren didn’t bother giving everyone else ample time to sleep.  Our bodies worked well enough without it.  I wondered if Jefren and Kait’ knew what they were really doing, though.  Even with the gem to force compliance, a body can only take so much before wearing out.  And by wearing out, I mean die.

Tears stung my eyes as I ran, the wind tearing them across my face, cutting icy veins over my skin.  They weren’t just from physical pain, but from the pain of failure.  I’d failed my friends.  There was a good chance of me dying without ever seeing them again.  There was a good chance of that death occurring as I ran into the night, searching for Kait’. 

On a positive note, the running seemed to diminish the pain in my head.  Believe it or not, even with the other pains, that was a true relief.  And, since I couldn’t physically do anything to undermine Jefren’s orders, I spent my punishment thinking about all the bad things I would do to the bastard if I could.  Somehow,
that made me feel a lot better.

Chapter 12

The Ridiculousness of the Gods

Jefren ended up being only
mostly
a bastard.  Once I found Kait’—who was actually somewhat livid about my punishment—my return run to the cart was no longer than my run out.  Apparently, as soon as I’d passed out of sight, Jefren had ordered the cart stopped to give the horses some rest.  Maybe he
did
understand what could happen if you pushed a living being too hard.

Briscott appeared genuinely relieved to see me return alive and promptly set to work cleaning my wounds, applying more herthil balm, and getting some food and water in me.  After making me promise that I would keep it secret, he gave me a low dose of dried tashave leaf to help ease my pain.  While he did all this for me, he talked about Loranis working in mysterious ways.  I politely chose to hold my tongue about what I currently thought about Loranis.

Once the horses started moving, Jefren fell asleep.  If only I could have throttled him in his defenseless state . . . or at least given him a good glare or two—glares that would have made Max proud.  Instead, I settled for sincerely thanking Briscott with a half-hearted smile and allowing the tashave leaf to pull me into a peaceful slumber.

****

The woman’s ringlets shone with an ethereal glow, the warmth of her smile nearly palpable.  She held me tightly, yet gently, against her breast.  Her emerald eyes were hazy behind a wall of tears.  I was confused, not understanding what was going on around me.  At the same time, the woman’s smile put me at peace.

Yet, I somehow knew the softly glowing world around me wasn’t real.  I knew that I shouldn’t have known who the woman before me was, though I could put a name and title to her. 
My mother, Kailyth Lemweir.

“He appears to be as healthy as a newborn can be,” an exhausted voice toned from somewhere nearby.  My gaze stayed locked on the delicately beautiful face hovering over me.

“He’s perfect,” my mother whispered, the love in her voice as tactile as the blanket I was wrapped in.

“That he is,”
came a strong voice from above.  My father, Galvin Lemweir, stepped into view.  I couldn’t understand why I knew the man’s identity or why I noticed the absence of a crown on his head.  His short, dark hair was brushed to the side.  His azure eyes were weary, yet regal.  His beard was trimmed short, but the stubble running further down his neck indicated that it hadn’t received attention for a couple days.

“It was a long birth, but My Queen appears to be stable.  All she needs are fluids and rest.  I suggest keeping her nurse at hand for the rest of the week.  I will be checking in on her daily,” the exhausted voice spoke.  My father nodded agreement without taking his eyes from me.  “The nurse will be in to make sure he will take to the breast.  Call on me if you need anything, Your Majesty. 
My Queen.  I will leave you to bond with . . .”  His voice trailed off.

“We haven’t decided on a name just yet,” my mother said softly, gazing lovingly into my eyes. 

“You need to wake up,” my father said.  But it wasn’t my father’s voice.  “Blighted tashave leaf.  Wake up!” 

My mother’s face evaporated into mist with a tempestuous swirl, followed by the room we were in, leaving only my father.  His face and body lost all detail, becoming nothing but a shadowy, human shape.  His chest began to glow green . . .

****

My eyes slid open, revealing Briscott leaning over me and firmly shaking my shoulders.  Briscott exhaled in relief and sat back, running a hand through his hair.  Through the skeletal trees behind him, I saw that the sky was purpling with the rising sun.  Thick clouds muted the morning glow, hovering like sentinels over the land.  The air was moist and chill. 

I weakly sat up, feeling dizzy.  It seemed that even a small amount of dried tashave leaf had lingering effects.  My aches were still mostly numbed, the pain behind my eyes only a dull throb.  Of course, I wouldn’t feel as pleasant in the next few hours, but I was thankful for the momentary reprieve.

“I thought you weren’t going to wake up there for a moment,” Briscott admitted with a nervous laugh.

I wiped the sleep from my eyes, flinching as my hand rubbed over my swollen left eye.  The skin around it was puffy and most likely a lovely shade of purple.  Briscott’s own blackened eye had faded slightly, jaundiced around its border.

“Sorry about your eye,” I apologized, finally accepting that Briscott had only tried to put an arrow through me that first night because of the gem in his chest.

“I never thought a thing of it,” he replied with a hint of his inherent kindness.  “I should apologize for being too blighting slow to dodge your punch.”

Surprisingly, I laughed. 
A real laugh.  It felt good. 

Looking around, I saw that aside from the two of us on the cart, there was no one else around.  I stretched my arms above my head and yawned.  I felt a pull at my stitches and quickly dropped my arms back down.  “Where is everyone?”

Briscott gestured over his shoulder.  I craned my neck to see canvas tents set up around a burned-out fire pit.  We were camped inside a copse of trees, hidden from the road.   The faint scent of roasted meat and wood smoke hung in the air.

“Jefren decided to set up camp after all.  I don’t think sleeping on the cart was working out for him,” Briscott explained.

Shivering, I wrapped my arms around my stomach.  “Then why are we still out here?” I asked, vapor misting from my mouth as I spoke.

“The tashave leaf knocked you out good.  If we had tried to move you to the tents, you wouldn’t have stirred, and Jefren may have realized what I gave you.  I just told him that you didn’t need to be moved after what he put you through last night.  He didn’t question, so here we are.”

“So, basically to cover your own ass,” I suggested with a smile. 

“Something
like that,” Briscott chuckled.  With an apologetic shrug, he turned to rummage through a bag beside him.

“Well, I actually feel good, considering,” I said, yawning.  “Maybe you were onto something with the whole ‘finding happiness where you can’ thing.  I’m happy about the relative lack of pain and being distanced from Eyebrows and Kait’.”  Eyebrows immediately became my new name for Jefren for when I wasn’t around him or Kait’.

Briscott guffawed, quickly putting a hand over his mouth to mute the sound.  “Oh, you’re going to get yourself in trouble with that mouth,” he said as his laughter died.  “But I’ll be damned if you’re not entertaining.”  He pulled a half-rotten apple from the bag, along with a hard bread heel.  It appeared that I was going to have to get used to spoiling fruit and stale bread on our journey.  “Might as well get a bit of food in you.  You’re recovering well, but we need to keep your energy up to make sure you continue to do so.  Sorry there’s no rabbit left.  Jefren and Kait’ ate most of it themselves.”

Even if I’d missed out on the roasted rabbit meat, my growling stomach and I graciously accepted the food and dug into it with fervor.  I don’t know if it was just the effects of the tashave leaf, but I felt better about everything as I ate.  The hopelessness of the previous day had been replaced with acceptance.

Maybe my training with Chasus was to thank for overcoming my hopelessness.  Chasus had once told me about a border skirmish between Alandrin and Courthan that he had fought in.  The king of Courthan decided that King Agolin had encroached on his territory based on some outdated maps he had acquired.  Due to some exteremely bad luck, and some brilliant strategy from the opposing forces, Chasus found himself as a prisoner of war. 

At first, Chasus retained a sense of resistance, not letting his situation break his spirit.  After two failed attempts by his men to mount a rescue, he lost hope and decided to simply wait
for the moment his captors decided to either kill him or extradite him to a prison back in Courthan. 

After two days of this self-defeating attitude, something changed inside of Chasus.  He took control of his emotions and rekindled the fire of resistance in his heart.  His new perspective allowed him to note weaknesses in Courthan’s forces, and he eventually figured out a way to break free from his capture without the aid of his own forces.  He was able to bring back information about the opposition that led to victory for his men a mere two days later.  He told me that he never again allowed himself to lose hope.

Then again, maybe I’d merely built up a natural resistance to seemingly hopeless situations after the events surrounding the dragon egg. 

Although Chasus’s story was not consciously in my thoughts as I sat there eating my browned apple and stale bread, I believe its moral was rooted somewhere in my soul, giving my mind the will it needed to take hold of my situation.  Resigning to feeling sorry for
myself would do nothing.  I couldn’t let the gem embedded in my chest allow me to give up.  I needed to accept my slavery and study my enemy until I found a way to break free from them.  I would start by getting some answers from Briscott.

“So,” I began as I finished off the bread and accepted a cup of water Briscott had filled from one of the water barrels, “why is it that you’re being so kind to me?”

“I’m not a bad person, Korin, though after what you’ve been through I can see why you might think so.  I’m a Loranis-fearing man and I believe in kindness to others.”  He glanced towards the camp.  “Well, maybe kindness to
most
others.  Also, it’s just nice to have someone to talk to.”

“What about the other men?”  I set down the cup and wiped my mouth with my sleeve.  “I don’t see you talking to them much.  Did they get the same treatment with the tashave leaf and all?”

Briscott shook his head.  “No, you just got lucky with that.  We just picked some up a couple of cities back.  I convinced Jefren it would help keep new recruits alive.  Up until you, we simply used brandy to blighting sterilize the wounds.  Sadly, even with the tashave leaf we bought and the herthil balm I’ve been able to make, one man, Isak, didn’t make it.  Loranis bless his soul.

“As for how I interact with the others, I’ve given them all a chance.  Several chances, really.  They decided early on that it was best to just give up caring and not resist.  It’s understandable, but it just makes them so blighting cynical when they deign to even speak in the first place.  Loranis willing, I can keep you from going down that same road.”

I fought not to scoff and failed.  “Loranis, huh?  What if I’m just a killer, and that’s why I had four men after me back in Laurlan?  What if I’m just a bad person?  Do you think Loranis gives one whit about what happens with me if that’s the case?”  In all truthfulness, I
had
once
killed a man, and I couldn’t really vouch that I was a good person anymore.

Briscott gave me a warm smile.  “I know better.  I have prayed and have
a clarity of vision.  You’re a good man.  You’re probably much less deserving of being here than anyone of us.”

Ridiculous notions of godly worship allowing someone the clarity of vision to deem someone to be a good person or not aside, I was grateful that Briscott did feel that I was a good man.  It made him a potential ally.

It was time to change subjects and get some useful information that could help me fight back against my captivity.  “What can you tell me about these gems?” I asked, gesturing to the glow bleeding through my shirt.

Briscott lifted an eyebrow. 
“Gems?  I wouldn’t call them that.  Gems have value—they have beauty.  They’re good for something.  These are just plain, ugly rocks, pure and simple.”

“Okay, what can you tell me about these
rocks
?” I amended.

“Nothing I haven’t already told you.  Jefren and Kait’ tell us to do something, and we do it.  There’s no way to fight against it. 
None that I’ve found, at least.  Believe me, I’ve tried.  Jefren may have been a friend once, but I wouldn’t mind putting a kingdom or two between us now.”

I knew it was too much to hope that Briscott would clue me in on any weaknesses in the power of the rocks, but it was still worth looking into.  For now, I would have to shift focus to finding weaknesses in my captors instead. 

“What about Eyebrows?  Any thoughts on how to get through to him about how dumb all this is?”

Briscott laughed mirthlessly.  “That’s a dead horse you’re trying to beat there.  Look, I know what you’re trying to do.  I don’t have any answers for you.  Like I
said, all we can do now is take happiness where we can find it and let Loranis’s will be done.”

My jaw clenched in irritation.  This man was as bad as a priest.  At least he kept his theology limited to Loranis and not one of the ridiculous gods like Eilorim, the god of spices.  Yes, you read that right. 
Spices.  If Briscott held any information that could help me, he wasn’t aware of it, so there was no use in direct questioning.  I was just going to have to glean what I could from our conversations and my own observations. 

“Okay, you got me.  Tell me about what I can expect today, then,” I said, twisting to stretch my back.  Sleeping on a wooden cart bed leads to very stiff muscles.  “I don’t want to be caught off guard by anything today.”