The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (5 page)

“Yeah, we’ve heard about that.”  I doubted the man was going to be able to tell us anything we didn’t already know.  I was wrong.

“Yeh, but did ya’ hur that thur army is large ’nough to rival any two armies in tha kingdoms?” he asked.

“Seems unlikely,” I replied.  Gualain was much too small a kingdom for such a rumor to be true.

The drunken man just shook his head.  “Nah, it’s the truth.  They
says Gualain’s army increased tenfold o’ernight.  No ’un knows nothin’ ’bout whur the new uns came from.”

The man’s words stole Til’s attention away from his work on the broken peg. 

“What do you mean?” I asked.

The man smiled, putting all of his crooked yellow teeth on display.  “They says that new ’cruits are jus’ showin’ up every day outta nowhere.  Army jus’ keeps growin’.” 

He took another swig of ale, his expression turning serious as he lowered his mug to the table.  “Tha’s not even the worst of it.  They says the dead roam the kingdom, that they’s gots glowin’ green lights in their chests.”  His brow dropped.  If nothing else, he at least believed he was telling the truth.  “They says their’s a new king there, jus’ lets it happen.”

I had to stifle a laugh with a clearing of my throat to keep from offending the man.  First of all, he was so drunk, I could barely understand him.  I was pretty sure that I ran the risk of becoming inebriated from his breath alone.  Second, what he was saying made no sense.  “And where did you hear this?” I questioned, hoping that I was able to hide my sarcasm.

He gestured towards the stairs with his mug.  “Man an’ his girl showed up this mornin’.  They’s upstairs in the otha’ room.  They says they come from out that way.  Man says he saw the dead fer himself.  Says his wife done been killed by ’em.  Poor bastard.”

My memory flashed back to the eldrhim that Sal’ had initially claimed to be a zombie—the dead come back to life.  Could Raijom or Prexwin have been summoning eldrhims in Gualain that people were confusing with the walking dead?  The possibilities starting to form in my head set my heart to speeding.

“Well, thanks for the warning,” I said, noting the unease in my voice.  I couldn’t believe I was actually beginning to believe the drunken man.

By this time, Til’ had finished his work on the broken peg.  He’d carved Nalis’s sigil into its center, the remaining surface covered with intricate swirls.  Nalis is the goddess of spirits, and by spirits, I’m not talking about ghosts or souls.  Let’s just say it was fitting for this man.  It wasn’t
Til’s best work, but it was enough to satisfy the slovenly drunk.

“By my own flesh an’ blood,” the man laughed as he snatched the peg from Til’s hand. 
“This is perty good, lil’ feller.”  He slapped his hand against Til’s back.  “Guess what they says is true.  Well, I better stagger on home now.  Don’ wanna anger tha missus.”  He stood up from the table, barely keeping on his feet.  Instead of going out the door, however, he went back to the bar and, with a solid
thunk
, dropped his head down onto it.

Til’ rolled his eyes and looked back to me.  “And that’s why Kolari don’t drink.  You don’t think what he said is true, do you?  You know, about the zombies.  I don’t think I’d want to see the dead come back to life.”  Til’ shuddered.

I fought not to shudder myself.  “He was drunk, Til’.  I doubt his words were anything more than embellished rumor.”  I let out a deep breath.  “Still, rumors are usually based on some shred of truth.  If Raijom’s involved with the mess in Gualain, maybe eldrhims are the real problem.”

“That’d be even worse,” Til’ muttered, wrapping his arms around his body as if chilled.

“True,” I agreed.  “We have more pressing matters, though.  Max, Sal’, and Xalis are our only concerns for now.  We’re not leaving them to the whims of the Wizard Academy.  Gualain’s going to have to wait, no matter what’s going on out there.  Besides, it’s going take a lot more than the two us to stop the war.”

“Yeah, we’ve got to save them first,” Til approved. 

I stretched my arms, yawning.  I’d only drank half of my ale, but it was stout enough that I was starting to feel relaxed.  “It’ll be nice to get cleaned up and have a real bed to sleep in.  We’ll need to get an early start tomorrow.

“Bill!” Til’ called out loudly. 

“Ant said we could pay him in the morning,” I replied tiredly through another yawn.

“No, Bill!” Til’ urged, tugging my sleeve and pointing towards one of the front windows.

Sure enough, the tattooed, shaved-head brute from Galius’s basement was outside, hitching what looked like a warhorse next to our mares.  Needless to say, our plans for a comfortable night’s sleep were ruined.

Chapter 6

Ignoring the Gut

Bill showing up at the Old Homestead did not bode well for us.  It appeared that he hadn’t been released from his Activated Contract with Galius after all. 
Stupid Julan Bertal.

A cursory glance at the entry door revealed it to have both a metal latch and a key lock above its handle.  I quickly jumped from my chair and darted to the door, slamming down the latch.  Taking a cue from my actions, Til’ ran to the windows and closed the shutters.

“What should we do?” Til’ asked shrilly.  “We could take him, right?  I mean, we’ve taken on worse.”

Til’ had a point, but I wasn’t about to willingly jump into a fight with the muscular Holder.  For the most part, any person using a Contract to make a living is tough, clever, adept, and a little crazy.  A Holder’s skills and smarts are all they have to protect themselves from lifelong servitude to a Setter.  Those attributes have to be sharp as a sword, or the Holder’s life is forfeit.  Basically, I wasn’t going to confront Bill unless I had to. 

“We’re not even going let them know we’re here,” I replied.  I grabbed Til’s arm and started for the doorway behind the bar, hoping to find a rear exit.  “That bastard Julan must not have forced Galius to cancel his Contract Terms with Bill.  Why else would Bill be after us?”

“But he can’t even hurt you, can he?” Til’ questioned.

Pausing, I looked back at Til’.  He was technically correct.  I’d forgotten all about Galius’s order for Bill and his fellow thugs to kill me.  The magic of my prior Activated Contract with Galius would’ve protected me from physical harm at Bill’s hands.  However, I couldn’t be sure if Bill had planned for that or not.

“No, but he can still hurt you.  We’re not taking any chances.  Our friends’ lives are too important to put ourselves at risk right now.”  My explanation silenced the Kolarin, and we continued on through the doorway.

The back room had no windows or lamps, but I could faintly make out a door on the rear wall.  The soft glow from the doorway behind us kept me from running into tables and food-lined shelving.  When I reached the door, I found it to be locked. 

“Damn, it’s locked,” I muttered as I pulled on the door’s handle to no avail.  “Let’s head upstairs and see if we can get the key from Ant.”

Back in the barroom, the front door started rattling in its frame.  This was followed by several heavy knocks.  “I know you are still open.  I can see the lights in there,” Bill called out loudly in his rough voice.  The drunken man at the bar didn’t stir in the least.

I caught
Til’s attention and held a finger to my lips.  We grabbed our cloaks and backpacks from the table and made our way up the stairs.  Ant was just exiting our room when we reached the top.  He looked about ready to pass out on his feet.

“Your room’s all ready, gentlemen.”  Ant craned his neck as if trying to look behind us.  “Is that someone knocking down there?  I ain’t locked the door yet.”

“Ant, we need to leave, and you need to keep quiet that we were ever here,” I whispered.  “Til’, give him a couple silvers.”  I may have had strong morals, but I wasn’t above bribery if it meant saving my life or the lives of those I cared about.

Til’ pulled out three silver coins, the majority of what we had left, and handed them to the stunned innkeeper. 

“Look, I don’t want no part of no trouble,” Ant protested shakily, trying to hand the coins back to Til’. 

“Listen, Ant,” I began, trying to keep my voice down, “we haven’t done anything wrong.  Please, help us.”  Another round of knocking echoed up the stairway.

Ant reluctantly closed his hand.  “You promise y’all ain’t criminals?”

“I promise,” I replied, ignoring that Til’
had been a thief, and that I’d probably done some unlawful things inadvertently with my prior Activated Contracts.

Ant licked his lips nervously, but he pocketed the coins.  “Okay, but if y’all need to sneak out, you got to go out that window there,” he said, pointing to the end of the hallway. 

“What about the back door?” I asked.  “Can’t you just unlock it for us?”

“There ain’t
no back door.  Downstairs, there’s jus’ the storage closet,” Ant explained, drawing a sigh from me.  Who doesn’t have a back door to their business? 

“
All right,” I conceded.  “Give us a slow count to thirty before you open the door.  I’m sure he won’t hurt you, but he may break down your door if he thinks we’re in here.”

Ant, clearly shaken by the whole situation, nodded and started down the stairs.  Til’ and I ran to the end of the hallway.  The casement window was held shut by a simple hook latch.  As I flipped the latch and pushed open the window, I heard Bill’s heavy boots stamp into the inn.

“So much for that slow count of thirty,” I muttered.  I leaned out the window to see a straight drop to the muddy ground.  I pushed Til’ ahead of me.  “You first.  He can’t hurt me.”

Til’ climbed onto the windowsill.  I grabbed his hands and lowered him as far as I could before releasing them.  He landed hard on the wet ground, just barely keeping on his feet.  I dropped our damp cloaks and backpacks after him.

Bill’s deep voice drifted up through the stairway.  “Have you had a Kolarin and a young man with short brown hair about yea tall come by here?”  He sounded perfectly civil, though I knew he’d be anything but if he found us.

Ant was true to his word.  “No, stranger, can’t say—”

Ant was cut off by the drunken man at the bar, who of course had decided that now was the perfect time to regain consciousness.  “They’s gots a room just up thur.  That K’larin’s the damnedest lil’ feller I e’er did see.  Made me this hur stick.”

There was a terse silence before I heard Bill’s footsteps approach the stairs.

“Malki’s blood,” I swore under my breath, practically jumping onto the window sill.  As I turned to lower myself from the frame, my eyes met Bill’s in the orange glow of a wall lamp. 

“We need to talk, Mr. Karell,” he said, his tattooed face impassive yet still intimidating.

“Sorry, I have plans.  Try me again next week,” I quipped, nimbly dropping backwards out the window.  I let my fingers briefly catch the window frame to keep from falling too fast.  My feet nearly slipped out from under me on the sodden grass, but I was miraculously able to remain standing.  Til’ handed me my backpack and cloak, and we started running.  Bill yelled something after us, but I couldn’t make out his words.

“What about the horses?” Til’ asked as we ran.

“We’ll get them after Mister Tattoo leaves the inn,” I panted, the cold air burning my lungs. 

“Then we could release his horse, and he couldn’t follow us, huh?  That’s a good plan.  He’d never catch us on foot.  Heck, even without the horses we could probably outrun him.  We’ve outrun a dragon before!” Til’ spoke without a hint of breathlessness. 

We came up to the back wall of a thatch-roofed house.  I slowly peered around the corner to check for Bill.  He was walking through the town’s central clearing with deadly grace, his hand casually resting on the hilt of the longsword at his hip.  His tattooed face swiveled back and forth, searching for us.  As his gaze neared our hiding spot, I whipped back around the corner.  When I ventured another peek, Bill had moved further into the clearing, his attention moved on.

The houses in Laurlan were spaced far apart, and the brightness of the full moon would make it hard to move around without being seen.  Therefore, we made our way from house to house slowly, keeping an eye on the clearing to make sure Bill didn’t see us or double back towards the inn. 

Once we made it to the rear of the house closest to the Old Homestead, we paused.  From our position, we’d be able to make a break for the inn, unhitch our horses, and be on our way out of Laurlan before Bill could even react.  When I turned the corner, however, my heart attempted to take a flying leap out of my ribcage.

Three men, two of which were Lily Pants and Crooked Nose, were stationed in front of the inn on horseback.  Lily Pants was holding a soft-glowing lantern, surveying the area around them.  Crooked Nose held his position in front of our horses, making any attempt to retrieve them pointless.  The third man, a thick-bearded lout just as rough looking as the other two, had a longbow strapped over his shoulder.  This was not good. 
Very not good.

“What—?”  Before Til’ could finish his question, I slapped a hand over his mouth and held a finger to my lips.  I tried to give him a “talk and we’re dead” kind of look.  The way his silver eyes widened, I think he understood.

Once I dropped my hand, Til’ silently peeked around the corner and then quickly flung himself back against the wall beside me.  With a gesture of his hands and a shrug, he seemed to ask, “What do we do now?”

At that moment, I didn’t have an answer.  I figured that once Bill completed his general sweep of Laurlan, he’d probably set two of his men to search for us while the third guarded our horses.  While that would’ve given us plenty of time to escape, they’d obviously been able to track us thus far, so I had to assume they could do so even more easily if we were on foot. 

I shook my head and took a deep, steadying breath.  I’d thought the actual journey to Tahron would be the least of my troubles.  Clearly, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Our only option at this point was to go into hiding—maybe head out into the countryside a couple miles, covering our tracks.  Then we could return in the morning to retrieve our horses.  That was as good a plan as I could come up with on a moment’s notice, anyway. 

After throwing my damp cloak around my shoulders and over my backpack, I grabbed Til’s arm to lead him away from the town.  I turned only to come to a dead stop just short of a shadowy figure wearing a dark, hooded cloak.  They stood equal to my own height, their face obscured by darkness within their hood.  My right hand instinctively dropped to my sword’s hilt.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.  Do you?”  The figure’s whispery voice was decidedly feminine and quite sultry to boot.  I mean, I was allowed to find a voice attractive, even when my heart belonged elsewhere, right?  Anyway, her thick accent marked her as someone from eastern Amirand—possibly Josuan, or . . .

“You and your father are the ones here from Gualain, aren’t you?” I questioned in a whisper, remembering the drunken man’s words at the Old Homestead. 

The shadow-faced woman was silent, making me wonder if she’d even heard me.  After a tense moment, she finally responded, “Well noted, friend.  I am Kaitlyne Remsha.”

“Kait’, not that I don’t appreciate the introduction, but your sneaking up on is a bit suspicious.”  My voice came out louder than I’d intended, prompting me to swing my head back around the corner to make sure I hadn’t been heard.  The three brutes were just as I’d last seen them, awaiting further orders from Bill. 

Though I couldn’t see Kait’s face, I had the feeling she was smirking.  “Is that how you treat all women who try to help you?  Just give them affectionate nicknames and blow them off?” 

Kait’s words took me back to when I’d first met Sal’; I’d done just about the same thing with her.  Maybe Max had always been right about my ignorance with women.  Anyway, something about this girl made me wary.

“And exactly why is it that you wish to help us?”

Kait’ raised her hand in the direction of the Old Homestead.  “Seems you’ve caused enough stir for four men, all twice your size, to come hunting you down.”  She then pointed in the opposite direction.  “The bald one with the tattoos on his face doesn’t seem to be your run-of-the-mill tough or brigand.  He seems to know what he’s doing, and by the way he moves, I would place money on him being a master with that sword of his.”

Kait’ had irritatingly strayed from a direct answer.  She seemed to recognize my annoyance, continuing after only a brief hesitation.  “Look, I’m just interested in learning what kind of person could warrant such attention.  Obviously there’s more to you than what I see before me.  Plus, I don’t like unfair fights.  I have no desire to see any harm come to you or . . . your son?” 

“Hey, I’m a Kolarin,” Til’ interjected with a scowl, thankfully with his voice lowered.  I still checked around the corner again to make sure no attention had been drawn to our location. 

Did Kait’ fail to notice Til’s pointed ears poking out from his hair or the fact that his silver eyes were so large?  In what world could
Til’ be mistaken for my son?  Maybe she was subtly drawing information from us.

“Hm, is that so?” Kait’ mused.  “That’s interesting.”  Her hood slowly bobbed as she studied
Til’.

“Korin, I don’t trust her.  Let’s get out of here.”  Til’s words held as much intensity as I imagined possible for a whisper. 

“Sure,” Kait’ shrugged.  “Take your chances on your own.  Or, you can follow me.  My father and I have traveling companions camped close by.  They’ll keep you safe from these men, even if you’re tracked there.  I can bring your horses to you in the morning.”  Kait’ gestured towards the inn once again.  “I’m assuming those horses out front are yours, right?”

“You don’t even know us,” Til’ accused.

Kait’ chuckled.  “Looking at the two of you, and judging by the looks of them, I doubt that
you’re
the bad guys here.  Besides, who ever heard of a Kolarin criminal?”