The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight (54 page)

When the creature turned its back, the Lurker hopped high, attaching itself below the base of Rakamore's neck. Quickly, it burrowed under the skin.

You are now mine! Invader!

Rakamore tried to scream, but found that he could not.

Like a puppet master, the Lurker controlled all. No one but Rakamore was aware of the takeover.

So, little by little, the king had started to change. A few new "experimental" programs here and there. A few reassignments of key elves. A subtle change in the Royal Guards and outer military patrols.

Enough to cause fear.

Enough to cause doubt.

Democratic governments were so easy to break, once the power had been handed over.

The Lurker did its job superbly.

"Sire?" the elf whispered.

Rakamore awoke with a start. He had been sleeping in his chair, unaware that his subjects had been waiting for over five cycles for him to reawaken. Grumbling, the elf tried his best to readjust his clothing.

"Yes?"

"We have word that Prince Rolmore has obtained Prince Rohan, sire."

Rohan? Rohan is the brat, is he not?

The king gave out a shiver. The words rammed through his head like a painful thunderbolt. His right eye started to twitch.

"Shall we prepare the court?"

"By all means, do."

Get up! I want to enjoy this!

Rakamore jerked from his seat like an injured animal seeking peace. His movements were deliberate and awkwardly clumsy. He appeared both confused and desperate.

Every muscle in his body rebelled against the thing. The elf tried to scream out that he was not in charge. He tried to beg the gods to take his life. He lived in a private little hell, realizing that he was allowing the monster inside of him to destroy his nation.

"Let's go and see the traitor!" the king mumbled.

Rohan blinked his eyes hard. He fought the urge to pass out as he spit both blood and teeth from his mouth. While fighting with the bulk of his chains, the unfortunate elf failed to see an oncoming fist from the angry crowd, until it was too late.

The crowd started to calm. Then, like a living sea, the people divided.

Standing at the end of the chaos was Rakamore.

Rohan glared up at his father.

"All of Eulogia welcomes you home, my son," the king said, bowing.

There was something about him that Rohan could not accept.

"Father?" the elf said, wiping caked mud off his vest. "For what reason do you treat me like this? I am your son. I am a member of the Imperial Court."

"And, having lived in the Imperial Court, have you forgotten the importance of protocol?" The king let out a controlled huff.

"Protocol?" Dorian was heard whispering.

Rohan straightened his back, and tried to appear courtly.

To everyone's surprise, the elf bowed to his king.

"Greetings, your majesty," Rohan stated. "I have the honor to inform you that my mission to seek our missing kinsmen has been of some success."

"How so?" Rakamore asked.

"Although our elfin brothers are missing and presumed dead, Count Voslow has been disposed of. He will no longer be a bother. I am quite sure our troubles in that area of patrol are over."

"Indeed?" The king looked pleased.

Dorian, upon witnessing such a display of proper etiquette, gawked at the two elves with a barely tolerable patience.

Rakamore's eyes turned to the dwarf.

"Is this the woman, then?"

"It is, sire." Rohan bowed.

"Truly a beauty." The king stated, bowing towards Dorian with respect. "I can see why you love her so. Such a rare thing."

Dorian's eyes widened with surprise.

As King Rakamore turned, she saw the Lurker.

"Rohan!" she whispered, frantically waving the elf over.

"What?"

"Do you not see it?" the woman pointed toward Rakamore.

Rohan studied his father. He saw nothing.

"Be calm," the elf reassured. "We are not even close to being out of danger."

"Why are you bothering with all of this?" the dwarf asked. "Get on with it!"

Rohan let out a laugh.

"Even with elves, there is a natural way to doing things. Rolmore knows when and how to strike."

"Upon my nose, I hope so." Dorian huffed. "Can we at least get these chains removed?"

Rohan bowed his head. "We were just coming to that part, my love."

"Oh&" Dorian turned awkward.

"Be brave, my dear."

Rakamore glared at the dwarf.

It can see us!

"Rohan, my son, the law is the law."

"Father?" Rohan's brow turned confused.

"No elf shall love a dwarf." The king reminded. "That is the law."

"The law is only secondary to my need for her love."

"Quite," Rakamore stood quietly for a few beats. "Rolmore?"

Rolmore put away the chains, allowing his brother and Dorian the privilege of free movement. He had been concentrating on a few well-placed elves high above the city, ready to give them the signal needed for their attack.

"Yes, father?" the elf captain asked.

"Kill the dwarf," Rakamore calmly ordered. Turning, he walked back toward the Royal Court.

Ka-Ron walked the entire course of the
Argo's
main deck, patiently observing the positions of the guards stationed upon the dock. Most were off the tiny vessel, paying more attention to the riots going on deep within the city. Neither the knight nor the wizard had ever seen an elfish township so chaotic. Something was going on here, and it wasn't something that could be so easily gotten rid of. Of that, both were sure.

"Is everyone ready?" Keeth whispered, joining Ka-Ron in her walk.

"As ready as they can ever be."

"Good."

Ka-Ron's face betrayed her thoughts.

"You do not sit kindly with this plan?" Keeth asked.

"It is not within my nature to fight battles that do not concern me."

"War, my dear, concerns us all."

The knight shook her head, agreeing. "Just get this over with, wizard. I have an overdue appointment at The Fire Mountains."

Keeth stopped at the ship's wheel.

With a shaky hand, he pulled down his newest lever.

The elfin harbor began to feel the rumbling. Then, one by one, the sentries posted outside the
Argo
turned to notice the ship. On board, they could barely hear the cheerful laughter coming from the wizard.

The seas began to bubble.

Amazingly, the
Argo
began to rise out of the water.

Cargo holds and trap doors slowly opened, clicking and clanking away. The ship's wooden masts began to fold, lowering into the bowels of the vast under housings. A reinforced hut rose, covering the area of the bridge.

"Wonderful!" Keeth cheered. "She's working wonderfully!"

The wizard allowed himself his moment. It was, after all, such a marvelous achievement, given the fact that he had barely any time to plan, build, and perfect the damn thing!

With her bow pointed east, and her stern to the west, the
Argo
began to move north, sideways, out of the water. And when the tiny vessel ran out of water, she became land-worthy.

"Up she goes!" Keeth shouted.

The keel of the ship began to divide, and huge panels of her hull retreated into her sidewalls. Lowering and causing the
Argo
to rise were two huge oblong devices. Each held within them several wheels of various designs and sizes. Each looked quite capable of carrying the vessel on its own, but all wheels were covered with an enveloping set of tracks, which concentrated all the wheels into two vast machines capable of traveling upon any and all terrain. As the
Argo
continued to voyage up upon the elfin beach, these tracks left heavy indentations in her wake.

Try as they might, the elfish forces had nothing at their command, which could stop this monster!

"Get the general command!" one of the elfin sailors shouted, running out of arrows with which to assault the wizard's vessel.

Ka-Ron clapped her hands, and before she knew it, she had kissed Keeth upon the cheek.

"Keeth, you are a wonder!" the knight shouted.

"Yes. I often amaze myself."

The old man grabbed the ship's wheel and turned it fully to the right. After doing so, he pulled up another lever.

"Hold on!" he warned.

The "land tracks" momentarily paused, causing the ship to bump and sway upon its sudden stop. This had given an opportunity for several brave elfin soldiers to try boarding the vessel.

It was a bad idea.

The hull of the
Argo
started to pivot, responding to the sharp starboard turn commanded by the wizard. The bow of the ship slowly and quite noisily, and pointed toward the main venue of the elfin village. Whatever the ship had been turned into, the wizard had the desire to "drive" it down, through, and into the village.

Keeth pulled away at three more levers.

"Onward!"

Almost shaking herself apart, the
Argo
ventured forward. Although upon land, the ship was under her own power and sail. A constant clank-clank-clank-clanking echoed from deep within her wooden bowels. Huge puffs of smoke exited from her stern windows, making it almost impossible for anyone to see her as she passed.

"Get ready to do your business, knight," the wizard suggested. Delighted to see everything working so well, the wizard pulled down upon a rope that hung from the bridge's new fortified roof. Upon doing so, a loud whistle musically played a simple sound, informing all ahead that "something wonderful" would soon be approaching. At the very least, it would warn the unsuspected to get the hell out of the way!

"A call it my All-Surface Vehicle," the wizard proclaimed, folding prideful hands upon his chest. "This is so great!"

Several cannons fired at the
Argo
, but after unfolding and collapsing so many compartments, the wizard had reinforced the ship's hull, causing any and all cannonballs simply to bounce off the several thousand planks of treated wood.

No matter what the military tried to do, the ship was unstoppable.

Everyone around the king simply froze. No one could bring himself to obey the order.

Rakamore turned, appalled that his son hadn't carried out his command. He huffed, glanced down at Dorian, who was terrorized beyond words, and grabbed the woman by the throat.

"Rolmore!" Rakamore shouted, gritting his teeth. "I told you to kill this bitch!"

Rohan had seen enough.

Before their departure on board
The Willows' Breath
, Rolmore had provided his brother with a small set of weapons. These devices were hidden: carried within the circumference of his belt and waist. It had been explained to Rohan that most of the weapons had been designed, built, and perfected by the Elfin Intelligence Agency - back in the era of nationalized conflicts.

In any case, they were all quite handy.

Rohan reached for a portable bow and arrow device.

"You will back away from my woman!" Rohan yelled, pointing the dangerous weapon at his king.

"You dare&" Rakamore had started to yell.

"Let her go!"

Dorian was doing all that she could to keep her feet steady upon the ground. The king's grasp was so powerful, and he was so much taller than she was, that several times during her combating the situation she found herself airborne.

"Rolmore!" the elf king challenged. "Could you live, knowing that your brother could bear half-breed bastards that would one day rule both kingdom and elf? She is an abomination that must be taken care of now!"

"The only abomination I am aware of, sire, is the man who is currently wearing the crown." The elf captain fired a signal into the air with his bow. A silver bolt sparkled and whistled as it flew its prearranged course.

They have failed you! They seek your kingdom. Kill them! Kill them all!!!!

Rakamore grabbed at his head in pain. Again, his body started to quake.

"Father?" Rohan questioned, studying everything.

"It is the fever again." Rolmore explained.

In his convulsions, the king let go of Dorian.

Coughing and falling to the ground, the dwarf turned her terrified eyes over to her lover. Rohan's steadfast stare was all she required to gather whatever courage she needed to persevere.

"Stay with me," Rohan advised.

"Just one beat, my love," Dorian stated.

The woman tried to walk back toward the king, who was still struggling with his ailments. The elfin leader's arms flayed through the air as if he were a rag doll being punished by a psychotic god.

"What are you doing?" Rohan asked his love, quite amazed at her actions.

"I'm going to punch that son-of-a-bitch in the balls," Dorian huffed.

Laughing and shaking his head, Rohan pulled his love away to safety.

Rolmore looked on. Even he was impressed with the dwarf's courage. "How dare you threaten the crown!" Rakamore cried, his shaking now under control.

Upon seeing the signal, swarms of elves, faithful toward Rolmore and the democratic preservation of the monarchy, surrounded the soldiers of the Imperial Guard. Most surrendered. Most knew the motivation behind the coup and secretly approved of the maneuver. They had seen the madness of their king.

However, in each revolution, there are those who just don't get it.

Through a need to follow, or a desire to avoid change, they never seem to stop and question.

The king still had an army.

Order your men to kill these two, and the whole movement will collapse. Look in their eyes. See the false hope rising there. All you need is one disappointment - one kill - and your crown will be safe.

Order it!

Before the king could do or say anything, a thunderous sound enveloped the scene. Several trees and several nearby houses simply collapsed. Screams and shouts echoed throughout the streets as all were foreshadowed by an approaching hulk.