The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (15 page)

The memory of the man I’d killed flashed into my mind.  Menar, a man sent by Raijom to kill me, had set his men after me.  I was greatly outnumbered and accidentally killed one of the men during the fight.  Even without the ellifil, I could’ve brought the memory to mind in perfect detail down to the feel of my sword piercing the man’s body.  The recollection of his death still sickened me. 

Of course, if Kait’s story was true, she was completely justified in her actions.  Heck, I almost wanted to applaud Kait’ for killing the wizard.  However, I couldn’t imagine ending a life and being able to speak so coldly about it. 

Kait’ continued, emotionless once again.  “Westis had more than enough money for me to travel back to Yillia in comfort, something that felt foreign after so many years of abuse.  I sent a letter to my mother once I arrived, not yet ready to confront my father.  I waited at the local tavern for my mother to show, but my sister appeared in her stead, her belly rounded with child.  She was still just a kid, not a year past coming of age.

“She started screaming at me for leaving her.  She beat me with her fists, blaming me for our mother’s death by our father’s abusive hand.  She berated me for her being with child . . . our father’s child.  That’s the moment my heart died—the moment that life turned gray and became meaningless.”  Kait’ paused again, and I could’ve sworn I heard her sniffle, but her hood obscured her face, keeping me from knowing for sure.

“My father had followed her to the tavern and stormed in, ready to end my life the way he had my mother’s.  Before he could even get within reach of me, I used these,” she pulled out a handful of her metal spheres, “to rip through his blighted, gods-forsaken skull.”  She shoved the spheres back into her cloak.  “My sister dropped to his dead body and cried, calling me a murderer.  And that’s the moment my soul died.

“I was arrested on the spot.  I didn’t care; there was nothing left in life for me anyway.  I was awaiting trial when the undead started plaguing the land.  When I learned about it, the last shred of caring in my heart flared.  I had to save my sister, even if she hated me.  Using the chaos of the undead’s attack, I was able to escape my imprisonment, but she was already dead when I found
her—both she and her unborn child.  It was all my fault; I should have stayed from the beginning.”  I was positive I heard her voice catch that time.

Tears continued to trace icy rivulets down my cheeks.  I had to take a gasping breath to hold back a sob.  “Kait’, I—”

Kait’ spun to me, her damp eyes burning with anger, her nostrils flaring.  “Not a word of this is to ever be spoken to anyone,” she hissed.  She turned away, muttering something about the ellifil.

After a significant stretch of silence spent trying to take rein of my emotions—following the euphoric rush caused by ellifil, a depressive crash is typical before emotions stabilize, especially in people unaccustomed to the drug—Kait’ stopped and turned to me.  Her face was an emotionless mask.

“Here we are,” she stated.  “How’s your pain?  Is your mind still clear?”

“Yes,” I answered truthfully.  I’d completely forgotten about the pain, my only discomfort coming from my sensitivity to the cold. 

My senses were still heightened, allowing me to hear soft crunching noises ahead of us, though I only saw empty forest.  Looking around, I could make out subtle depressions in the leaves where someone had recently been walking.  I smelled traces of smoke from a long-extinguished fire. 

“What are we doing here?” I asked, unease filling me.

Kait’ didn’t have to answer.  Stepping out from behind thick trees ahead of us, a group of six men in mismatched leather armor gathered.  Some held daggers, some held swords, and one had a bow with a feathered arrow nocked.  Brigands.

“Well, well, looks like we got company,” the forefront brigand called out in a twangy accent.  Unlike the five men behind him, the bearded man wore studded leather armor, marking him as their leader.  “I’m sure they won’t mind parting with their money.” 

My hand went to my sword, but Kait’ simply looked at me and shook her head.  My hand involuntarily pulled away, the shaking of her head working as well as a spoken command. 

As the men approached, the leader gave Kait’ a lecherous glare.  He whistled through the prominent gap between his front teeth. 
“Looks like we got some entertainment on our hands, too.”  He stopped a few strides from where we stood, his men fanning out to either side.  “It’ll be cold when we get those clothes off ya, hon’, but I promise we’ll warm ya back up.”  He and his men broke into laughter.

Kait’ gave the man a broad, sinister smile before turning to me, malice shining in her tilted eyes.  “Attack them all.”

Chapter 14

Wasn’t One Enough?

Drawing my shortsword, I prepared to rush into death.  It’s not that I doubted my fighting abilities; it’s just that there were six of the brigands and only one of me.  Kait’s casual posture was a strong indicator that I would be on my own during the fight.  Nothing, not even the ellifil’s effects, could make me convince myself that I had a chance against six armed men alone.  If this was how Kait’ and Eyebrows tested their new recruits, it was a miracle that any of them had survived, even after a successful implantation of one of the rocks.

Kait’s teachings on how the rocks worked allowed me to hesitate before hurrying into battle.  Without a timeline on the order, I wasn’t forced into an immediate attack.  I knew I couldn’t run away, though.  Whether I launched into an attack or not, these men were going to come after us.  I’d been commanded to protect Kait’, so no matter what, I was in for an unbalanced fight. 

Knowing I had no real choice in fighting the men, I needed a plan of attack.  I quickly assessed my situation.  On their side, there were two men with swords, three with daggers, and one ready to send an arrow through me.  On my side, there was just me with my decently sharp shortsword and a woman—one who had no intention of moving a muscle—wearing a malicious smile.  My odds weren’t looking so good.

“Looks like we got us a hero,” the leader laughed, spitting toward me through the gap in his teeth.  He smoothed back his shaggy brown hair with one hand and pointed his sword at me.  “Ya know
, it’s rude to attack a man in his own home.”  He gestured at the forest around him.  “Men, teach him a lesson in manners so we can get to making the lass comfortable.”  With that, four of his men charged at me. 

With my mind focused, I dropped into a crouch, feeling the wind from the bowman’s arrow as it sailed mere fingerbreadths over my head.  The first man, a dagger in his dirty hand, closed the distance between us.  Rising from my crouch, I used my momentum to greet him with an uppercut to his jaw. 

I twirled to catch a hook-nosed man’s sword with my own as it slashed down at me.  The hook-nosed man threw a punch towards my face with his other hand, which I knocked away with a forearm.  Bringing my forehead down into his face, I both heard and felt the cartilage in his nose snap.  I’ll be calling him Hook Nose from this point on, though Broken Nose would’ve been a more fitting name after my attack.

Being outnumbered six to one kind of makes the fighting styles my uncle taught me useless.  When heavily outnumbered, you have to act without thinking.  Instinct takes over, and
you just go with the flow.  Concerning yourself with multiple enemies doesn’t afford much time to strategize or coordinate attacks.

Hook Nose’s sword dropped to the ground, and his hands flew to his bloodied nose.  I stepped back and dropped into a defensive stance, sword at the ready.  The first man was already recovered and slashed at me with his dagger.  I barely deflected it with my sword, not noticing the burly man coming at my opposite side.  The new attacker took advantage of my distraction and drove a fist into the side of my head.  The ellifil kept me numbed from the pain of the punch, but blows to the head do more than just hurt.

Staggering back, I swung my sword blindly, only parrying the burly man’s dagger by pure luck.  While I fought to regain my balance from the dizzying blow to the head, another arrow zipped past me.  The rest of the men were closing in, two of them skirting around to get behind me.  If they were successful in surrounding me, I’d be dead in short order.  I turned to escape to a more defensible position.

Before I could retreat, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air, causing everyone to pause.  I turned towards Kait’, who stood before the brigand leader, his body pinned to the ground by his own sword.  His hand was clenched around the hilt, as if he’d stabbed himself.  Unless my guess was wrong, one of Kait’s metal spheres was on the ground beneath him.  His sword had likely been drawn to it, following a direct path through his body.

Kait’s eyes flashed with dark amusement as the brigand leader struggled to pull the sword from his stomach.  I could only imagine the pain of the sword tearing his insides as he futilely writhed on the ground to get away.  Even after all I’d seen in the past month of my life, I found myself nauseated by the sight.

Kait’s eyes rose to meet mine, a sickening smirk on her face.  “Isn’t there something you should be doing?”  My attention shot back to the four men trying to surround me.  They were all stunned, staring at their fallen leader, unsure of what to do. 

The bowman, still a goodly distance away, was the first of the men to break from his stupor.  He speedily released his next arrow, aiming at Kait’.  Kait’s smile broadened as the arrow snapped off course and stabbed into the brigand leader’s chest instead, right where there was a metal stud in the armor.  The brigand leader did not scream this time but gave a wincing grimace before going still.  That stud had been right over his heart. 

“Now,” Kait’ announced loudly for everyone to hear, “I’m your new leader. 
Ten gold to the one who kills this man.”  She raised a hand to point at me. 

The funny thing is
, I actually felt like laughing.  Not one of those “oh, Malki’s blood, I’m about to die” laughs, but an ellifil-induced, mirthful laugh, as if I were watching a comedic play acting out around me.  I mean, who finds themselves as a slave following someone’s orders to fight at five-to-one odds against men who have been ordered by that same someone to kill them? 

Okay, maybe it wasn’t really funny, but the ellifil sure made it seem that way.  At least the euphoric effects of the ellifil had waned enough for me to resist the urge to break into a fit of laughter.

As the brigands closed in, the bowman nocking another arrow, I had a moment of clarity, most likely thanks to the drug coursing through me.  I realized that the only way I was going to make it out of the situation alive was to surrender to the ellifil’s effects.  Without it, pain and fear would cripple me to the point of succumbing to the brigands’ attack.  With it, I had a chance at taking them on. 

My lack of fear and increased focus helped me recognize that I was most likely a more skilled fighter than any of the brigands.  Brigands are not typically trained fighters.  Their main skills lie in intimidation and a simple disregard for the lives of others.  As long as I could keep them from all attacking at once, I’d have a strong advantage through sheer skill.

Also to my advantage, due to Kait’s offer to pay the man who actually killed me, the brigands wouldn’t be working as a team.  Brigands are not ones to share if they can help it.  Each of these men would now only be looking out for themselves, concerned only with obtaining the gold for their own selfish reasons. 

Of course, I didn’t need the ellifil to come to these conclusions, but it did allow me to do so more quickly.  All those thoughts hit me in the small handful of moments it took for the first dagger to come slashing towards my face. 

I didn’t bother to raise my sword and simply leaned back from the attack, using the momentum to spin around and dart further into the trees.  Stomping footsteps crunched behind me, but I kept my eyes forward and sprinted as fast as I could away from them.  An arrow flew a pace or two from its intended mark to my right.  Still I pressed on, hoping to the gods that I was faster than at least two of the four men who were actively trying to catch up to me—I assumed the bowman would keep his distance, giving him the advantage of a steady shot, as opposed to trying to hit me while chasing me down. 

Finally, just as I started feeling that if I kept going, I’d be too tired to actually put up a fight, I stopped.  Keeping a wide tree at my back to prevent being surrounded, I lowered my sword in a two-handed grip, ready to defend or attack as necessary. 

Now, this is why I’d hoped to greatly outrun at least half the men.  It would give me time to prepare, and unless they were all running at the exact same speed, they wouldn’t be able to all reach me at once. 

Only one of the men, Hook Nose himself, was anywhere near me, and I was barely winded.  Either these men were really out of shape, or my drugged body was supercharged with energy.  Either way, I still had several moments to anticipate Hook Nose’s plan of attack.  Given the clumsy overhead swing of his sword as he came upon my position, it was several moments more than I needed.

I lazily lifted my sword horizontally above my head to parry his attack.  Holding the hilt with both hands and tensing my arms, the impact was minimally jarring and allowed me to push upwards to slide his blade off to the side.  I followed up with a side-swinging blow to Hook Nose’s head with the pommel of my sword.  He dropped limply to the ground just in time for me to prepare for two dagger-wielding brigands who reached me at the same time. 

The first sliced diagonally towards me, while the second went for a side-armed stab towards my neck.  With a simple spin around the base of the tree, I avoided both attacks.  I turned to catch a second slash from the first brigand with my blade, my ellifil-enhanced concentration allowing me to spot the second brigand darting around the tree to come at my back.  I threw my foot forward in a kick to the first man’s knee, knocking him off balance and giving me time to spin to meet my backstabbing attacker.  I’ll just call him Backstabber. 

Backstabber hadn’t anticipated my quick reflexes and wasn’t prepared when I caught his wrist as he stabbed his dagger down at me.  He also wasn’t prepared for the punch to his face from my sword hand.  The ensuing nose-breaking crack was barely audible over his gurgling scream.  His hand reflexively sprang open and went to his nose, dropping his dagger into the dead leaves blanketing the forest floor.  As I twirled to meet my first attacker, I swept my foot out to kick the dagger away from where it landed, sending it further away under the leaves and making it nearly impossible for Backstabber to find it before I brought my attention back to him.

The first brigand, still on his feet, charged at me with a guttural roar.  He started slashing at me wildly, forcing me into a back-stepping retreat.  Defending against a small weapon such as a dagger is just about impossible when the wielder is basically flailing the weapon around like a madman. 

In the periphery of my vision, I saw the fourth brigand nearing the fray, meaning that I had very little time to take care of the dagger-wielding attacker before me.  Killing him was not an option in my mind but striking a nonlethal blow was. 

With the brigand’s careless assault leaving his defenses wide open, he was in no position to stop my sword from stabbing shallowly into his right shoulder.  He let out a vicious snarl, releasing his dagger with an involuntary spasm of his hand.  Chasus would’ve been disappointed with these brigands’ inability to hold on to their weapons, even if caused by a natural reaction to pain.  I withdrew my blade and, as I had with Backstabber, quickly kicked away his dropped dagger.

Then everything started to fall apart. 

My knees suddenly buckled, nearly taking me to the ground.  Violent pain exploded behind my eyes and branched through my chest.  Profound weakness and weariness seeped through every burning muscle in my body, forcing me to gasp in lungfuls of air due to my sudden windedness.  I would later learn that heavy exertion is a good way to quickly flush ellifil from the body.  At that moment, however, I was only learning that there wasn’t much of a
comedown from the drug; one moment its effects were present, and the next, they simply weren’t.  The toll of the physical exertion I’d put my body through, coupled with the head and chest pain caused by the rock, hit me all at once.  My vision went white from the agony.  I was able to feel fear again.  And I felt a whole mess of it.

Only the sound of crunching leaves gave me warning of Backstabber’s approach from behind, giving further credence to the moniker I’d given him.  I started to turn to meet his attack but dizzily dropped to my knees instead.  Backstabber’s fist, which had been aiming for my face, soared over my head, his forward momentum sending him tripping over me and taking us both to the ground, his body pinning my sword arm.  Backstabber let out a scream of pain.  It wasn’t until I felt the warmth of blood on my hand that I realized my sword had stabbed completely through his thigh.  Backstabber rolled away, wrenching the sword from my hand. 

The fourth attacker, the burly brigand who’d punched me in the head earlier, finally arrived, looking ready to finish the fight as I lay unarmed on the ground.  Murder smoldered in his eyes and glinted off his dagger.  Just as the brigand reared back his arm to attack, luck reared its Thilis-blooded head.  Thilis is the god of luck, by the way, and one I was sorely tempted to start worshipping after what happened next. 

The first attacker, the one
whom I’d stabbed in the arm, apparently wasn’t going to let the late arrival get the gold for killing me.  He tackled his fellow brigand to the ground—a remarkable feat given his injury—and wrestling for the dagger ensued. 

With the debilitating pain and weakness coursing through my body, I didn’t feel that I had the ability to do anything but lie in wait for whichever brigand won the chance to murder me.  However, my arms started moving of their own accord, pushing me to my feet.  My body was acting on Kait’s order to attack the brigands.  The explosive pain in my head distracted me from using her earlier advice, and so all semblance of self-control fled my mind.

Once to my feet, I looked down at Backstabber, who’d seemingly passed out.  I hoped he was unconscious due to pain and not blood loss.  If my sword had pierced an artery in his leg, he could’ve easily bled out enough to lose consciousness already and soon be dead.