The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (8 page)

Briscott rubbed at his beard and leaned back from me.  His eyes narrowed, and the friendliness melted from his expression.  All that was left was the haunted look of a man who’d seen way too much for his years.  “We took the glowing rocks from each of those blighted men. 
Together, we were even able to take down two of those Rizear-damned undead.  There were so many dead bodies in the streets.  So many women, children . . . it wasn’t until we found Kaitlyne hiding in an alley that we decided to try and capture one of the living men and find out what was going on.”

“Kait’s not his daughter?” I found myself asking, remembering what the drunken man in the Old Homestead had told me.

Briscott’s eyes lit up again.  “Kait’, huh?  You’ve known her for a single night, and you’re giving her nicknames.”  He brushed his hair back, shaking his head.  “She’s a dangerous one.  You’d do best to watch your tongue with her.  But no, she’s no daughter of Jefren’s.”

I arched an eyebrow.  Well, at least I tried to.

Briscott must’ve caught something in my expression.  “No, no, not that either.  They’re more like business associates.  She’d been locked up in a prison in Yillia for something; she wouldn’t tell us what.  She broke out during all this mess.  That magic of hers . . . let’s just say that those undead weren’t so much of a problem with her around.”

Briscott glanced back towards the tent’s entrance.  “Sorry, we don’t have much time here, and I’m rambling.  We caught one of the living men, and let me tell you, it was no easy task.  The bastard wouldn’t stop trying to kill us, no matter what we did.  Jefren and Kaitlyne broke all his limbs, and he still kept trying to kill us.  The strange thing was that he was apologizing the whole time.   Just about the strangest blighted thing I ever did see.

“When he couldn’t fight back any longer, he told us how the undead carried the green rocks, dipping their points into bottles of blood hanging from their necks.  The creatures would hammer the blighted things right into men’s chests.”  Briscott accompanied his explanation with a gesture as if he were hammering a nail into a board.  I couldn’t help but shiver.  What kind of dark magic was Raijom using?

“Now for the crazy part.”
 

My heart was already beating in double time, my chest was like a spring coiled a little too tightly, and my body felt even weaker than the tashave leaf had already made it.  And now Briscott was telling me that everything leading up to this point had
not
been the craziest part of his explanation.  I steeled myself for what could be worse than the undead killing women and children and hammering green gems into people’s chests.

Briscott took a deep breath, his eyes taking on a haunted look once again.  “The man said that as soon as that blighted rock was hammered in, he could hear a voice in his head giving him orders. 
Some kind of vile voice that filled his veins with ice and his lungs with fire.  The voice told him to find men without the green rocks in their chests and to put one there.  It blighting told him to kill any who got in his way of doing so.  He was to do this until he received his next set of orders.  And do you know what the worst blighted part of it was?”

Briscott paused long enough to indicate that he actually expected me to answer.  “He couldn’t do anything but follow those orders,” I answered, my body numb at the realization. 

Whatever these green gems were, their magic was akin to the link created between a Holder and a Setter when an Activated Contract was unfulfilled.  However, this link was immediate, whereas with an Activated Contract, the Holder would never become a slave if they fulfilled the Setter’s Terms.  Also, Raijom, or whoever else was responsible for the gems, was able to give orders without being physically present.  Only pride kept me from sicking up right then and there. 

Briscott nodded gravely.  “Apparently some men were just given the order to return to the capital to join up with the king’s army.  The man said that the undead who actually hammered in the blighted rocks carried large bags full of pouches.  Some pouches were full of more of the green rocks, the others with small glass vials of blood.  The bags were handed out to the new recruits, some to use, some to pass on to their victims.

“Kaitlyne . . .”  Briscott trailed off, looking away from me, his eyes misting.  “She thought she understood how the rocks worked.  She and Jefren wanted to test them.  I’d always been close to Jefren.  I trusted him.  I volunteered.”  Briscott swallowed heavily as a tear broke free and made its way down his cheek.  “It was stupid of me, I know, but I didn’t realize how addled his mind had become, how seeing his wife and daughter torn to pieces and killing those men . . . I just didn’t see.  I couldn’t blighting see.  Hold on.”  Briscott rose and left the tent.  He wasn’t gone long, but I spent that time absorbing the insanity of what he’d told me. 

Part of me wanted to tell Briscott that everything would be okay, to comfort him.  I didn’t like seeing anyone sad, and it was a natural instinct for me to try to make unhappy people feel better.  However, everything was
not
okay.  It wasn’t even close to okay.  And I don’t even mean just because I’d been captured and tied up.  If what Briscott said was true, things in Gualain were much direr than I could’ve ever imagined. 

There was also the fact that Briscott was part of the group responsible for my current situation.  I was letting myself feel sorry for the man, yet he had shot me with a damned arrow.  He could’ve killed me.  He was working for the enemy.  Why should I have cared if everything would be okay for him? 

Briscott returned and pushed his hair from his eyes.  They were alert and clear of tears.  Maybe he’d just needed a moment to compose himself.  “Sorry about that.” 

I nodded silently, my mind too jumbled with emotions to speak.

“Where was I?  Oh, yes.  Kaitlyne was the one who came up with the idea that the blood in the vials linked the rocks to some single source, likely a wizard.  She figured that the wizard used the rocks as a conduit to exert his will on those with the blighted things hammered into them. 

“We decided to test Kaitlyne’s theory with Jefren’s blood.  We cleaned one of the rocks with vinegar and alcohol.  They blighting put it in me . . . I can’t describe the pain . . . not just here.”  Briscott touched his chest.  “But here.”  He then touched his temple.  “Then Jefren told me to jump . . . and I did.  I couldn’t help it.

“Jefren assumed that since a wizard had to behind the use of the rocks, the Wizard Academy must be to blame.  It wasn’t until then that I realized what had happened to his mind.  He dragged Kaitlyne into his madness as well.  They decided to create their own blighted force to fight back.  The plan was to escape Gualain with the rocks we’d taken, find the best fighters possible, and use the rocks to make them join us, whether they wanted to or not.  We just set out west and kept going.

“I tried to convince them of the insanity of it all, but they wouldn’t listen.  Instead, Jefren commanded me to follow his and Kaitlyne’s every blighted order.  So here we are.  All we have to show for our travels is about a half dozen street-roughs and a near-empty coffer.  They planned on robbing that inn back in town, but then, they found you.”  Briscott turned his gaze away from me.

“And what does that mean exactly?” I asked, surprised I could even speak through the tangle of emotions knotted in my chest and the lingering effects of the tashave leaf.

“Well, Kaitlyne wants you because of the four men chasing after you.  That was enough to make her believe you’d be a valuable asset to our group.  After seeing how well you fought last night, I’d say she was right.” 

I didn’t like where any of this was going.  Most of Kait’s men that I’d seen had the green gems affixed to their chests.  If they wanted me to be a part of their group . . .

“Then there’s the Kolarin,” Briscott continued solemnly.  “She sees him as our ticket to a well-funded army.  Just stick in a green rock, tell him to carve us some wood, and monetary problems are no more.  You get me?”

I nodded, feeling sick.  As of a week ago, I’d become all too familiar with how monetarily beneficial traveling with a Kolarin could be.  “So what now?” I asked, my words coming out clear.  Maybe the tashave leaf’s effects had finally passed.

Briscott took in a deep breath to answer, but paused as a shadow fell across the ground between us.  I didn’t have to turn my head to know that Kait’ and Jefren had arrived.

“Is he awake?” a hoarse, male voice inquired in a thick accent. 

A tall man ducked his way into the tent, his tilted eyes and dark skin identifying him as Jefren, the third of the Gualainian refugees.  Long black hair hung straight to his shoulders, framing a square face.  His broad nose made his eyes seem to be spaced too far apart.  He was clean-shaven except for a long, braided strand hanging from his chin.  He looked to be Briscott’s age, just beneath his middle years.
He wore simple leather armor with a green shirt underneath.  Leather bracers ran the full length of his forearms and covered the backs of his hands.  Black boots came up to his knees.  His bushy eyebrows were drawn down in displeasure.

“Yes, he just came to not long ago,” Briscott answered dutifully, rising as much as he could in the confines of the tent, again brushing back his hair with one of his hands.

Jefren gave Briscott a suspicious, narrowed-eyed glare.  I wondered if he somehow knew about what Briscott had told me.  I was pretty sure that Jefren wouldn’t have wanted me to know what I now did.  Especially the whole him being crazy part.

Jefren took a couple hunched steps towards me, revealing Kait’ standing outside the tent with her arms crossed under her breasts.  Not that I cared, but with the daylight outside, I could tell it was an impressive chest indeed. 
Just being observant, as always.  You need to know your enemy as well as possible, right?  To the point, she was staring at me with a half smile, as if gloating for her victory from the night before. 

I turned my attention back to Jefren.  His eyes scanned over me, shaping me up as if purchasing livestock.  His bushy eyebrows drew even lower above dark brown eyes that burned with anger.  Maybe they just burned with crazy.  All I know is that I was incredibly threatened and could hardly breathe.  I feared what he had planned for me.  I feared that because of this man, I’d never be able to rescue Max, leaving him to be a permanent laboratory subject.  I feared that I’d never see Sal’ again.  I feared that Raijom would be left unchecked to bring terror upon Amirand.  Therefore, I reacted as I always did in situations like this.

“Be careful, those things above your eyes look ready to bite,” I said without a hint of tashave leaf effects, flashing Jefren a condescending smirk.  The only thing I have to say about what happened next is that backhanded strikes hurt, especially when leather bracers are involved.  The small bit of pride in insulting my captor was masked by the taste of blood on my tongue.

Jefren snorted.  “You do not look like much to me,” he rasped, the hoarseness of his voice making him sound as if he’d smoked a pipe his entire life. 

“Trust me, Jefren,” Kait cut in as she stepped forward into the tent.  “Korin is worthy of one of the stones—more so than the men we have now.  I saw how he fought.  This man’s had training.  If not for my magic, I doubt we could’ve taken him.  Also, we can use him to find the Kolarin.”  Her eyes stayed on me the entire time, her full lips frozen in a lofty smile.

Jefren’s eyes narrowed until I couldn’t even tell if they were open.  “Are you certain?  He is so young.”

“As certain as my hatred for the Rizear-blighted beasts that will soon feel our wrath,” Kait’ answered smoothly.

“I trust you,” Jefren conceded, taking his eyes from me and starting for the tent flap.  “Briscott, fetch Oslen and have him take care of Korin, here.  If he lives, we’ll see what he knows about the Kolarin and strike camp.  I’ll be back to give him orders shortly.  I want him ready by this afternoon.  Understood?”

“Yes, Jefren,” Briscott answered meekly, his face a mask of gloom.

I took a little pleasure in the fact that Jefren couldn’t make a dignified exit, waddling due to the low ceiling of the tent.  Kait’ flashed me a devious, toothy grin before following after him.

“I really don’t like him,” I muttered, shaking my head. 

“He really was a good man once,” Briscott countered sullenly.

“Well, that does me no good now.”  I exhaled slowly, trying to get my tensed muscles to relax.  Relaxing isn’t easy once you’ve discovered that you may not live through the next hour of your life.  “So, this might kill me.”  It wasn’t a question.

Briscott’s once friendly face held nothing but regretful sorrow.  “I should’ve told you about this first . . . I just didn’t want to . . . I’m sorry.  Given the results we’ve had so far with the rocks, you have about as much chance of living through the process as not.  I’ll do all I can to make sure you make it through.” 

Briscott turned, presumably to retrieve Oslen per Jefren’s orders.  Once this Oslen pounded one of the green gems into my chest, I’d also be subject to Jefren’s whims.  The very thought twisted my stomach and threatened to do the same to my sanity.

“Briscott,” I called before he left the tent.  “Please tell me you were a physicker back in Gualain.”  It was a bit much to hope for with the poor stitching on my shoulder, but I was looking for any possible reassurance that I’d live through the day. 
That I’d live to find a way to break free.  That I’d live to help my friends.