CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
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King Te’Korei
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28th of Decepter, 935 PC
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Emptiness. Death. Sadness. There was no way to tell the order of the severity with which these things were tearing at King’s heart. To be fair, he’d spent more time with Garth’s corpse as it lay in the middle of the wagon than he had with the man when he was alive in the last few years, but it still hurt to see his oversized feet sticking out from underneath the blankets Narah had tossed over him. They’d chosen to bury him anywhere but in Shirk. As the saying goes…
The wagon rumbled over a bumpy patch in the dirt trail. With no magic he couldn’t do anything to combat the painful jolts that shot through his body. A fact he couldn’t yet determine how he felt about. On one hand, there was no way to delay his death as it inched toward him like a shadow in the evening. Or the pain that would come with it. But on the other hand, it was refreshing to know he’d cause no one else any harm with his cursed blessings. He could leave the horrible misfortunes that ruined people’s lives to The Creator and live out the final days of his own life in a peaceful, albeit, painful bliss. Odd though, knowing there was nothing in his soul anymore. Almost felt as if it was no longer there. He couldn’t feel it, couldn’t open it or close it. Gone. If he had to deal with such a thought for any longer than a few days, he wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot he had a soul altogether. It’s no wonder so many commoners are always in such a bad mood.
And then there was Colin. Poor Colin Humpfrey. Stuck with men guided by malintent, destined to find themselves on the wrong end of a steel blade. If only he could have brought the lad with him, or even just said goodbye. But there’d never be a goodbye. Or an apology. Or another story. If King had any hope left in him he could believe Colin knew he didn’t feel the way his frustration had come out but his magic wasn’t the only well to have run dry. He’d decided it was best that he search for a comfortable place to sit and watch the rest of Colin’s days when he got home. So his apology was that much more personal.
Danella Puretti, that’s what Shade had called the assailant, stared at King from the other side of the wagon, her feet tucked beneath her thighs and her hands bound behind her back. She barely swayed an inch despite the rocking of the vehicle. Without her red scarf she was far less intimidating. Lovely, really. Her buttery blonde hair wasn’t terribly different from Colin’s. With a good washing, it would likely feel as soft as its appearance implied. The green eyes that had been so menacing before now looked hurt and defeated. Of course, there was a chance the woman was simply still recovering from being hit in the head by a fist made of steel, but as she was now, King felt sorry for her. He could tell there was a story inside her, one of pain and sorrow, and he couldn’t help but think he may have had something to do with that.
“Tell us why you attacked King or I’ll be forced to pry the information from you,” Narah said. The quiet boy, Maddy, sat as close to her as he could get without actually making contact. From what King could see, he was less than useful than Colin but slightly more independent. No reason we couldn’t have traded him for the lad. “We will have the information one way or another. Better for you that you cooperate.”
King wanted to know the reason behind the woman’s attempts on his life as badly as anyone but there was no necessity for violence or torture. The assailant didn’t respond. Nor had she for hours. He spoke on her behalf.
“Whatever the reason, I’m sure it is well-deserved.” He turned to Danella. “If it makes you feel any better, I will be dead soon. A matter of days if how I feel can be trusted.” Danella’s face didn’t change a bit. Clearly, she’d only be happy if she was the one who ended him.
“Forgive me, King Te’Korei, but you are as unwelcome as she is until one of you proves the other is the threat. If you weren’t on your deathbed, you’d be restrained as well,” Narah said, bringing a disturbing feeling to his chest. He’d never been thought of as a threat in his entire life. Quite the opposite actually – a pleasure to be around.
Suddenly, he found himself compelled to prove he was not the problem here. He’d be damned if he’d die with these people thinking less of him than an assassin willing to kill an innocent man.
“Miss Puretti.” –he coughed, spitting blood on the wood beside him– “I know not what I am accused of.” He took several long breaths. “I would ask another, but it appears the secret lies with you and you alone.” Another pause to catch his breath. However, if I am not mistaken, I believe by the laws of the empire I am entitled to a fair trial. Either by combat or by a jury of our peers. And since I’m not suited for combat here and now, I demand that you tell us what I’ve done so I can prove how audacious of a claim it is.” Still his efforts deemed no answer from the woman. He wanted to say more but it was becoming too difficult to catch his breath. Better wrap it up. He turned to Narah. “No evidence to stand by if you ask me.” He paused. “Might I add that Garth Buxton vouched for me before his untimely death.”
“We knew Garth about as well as we know you. And given the other men he spent his time with, his word gives you very little credibility in my eyes.” She had a point there. Alaric and Elgar Sampson, Jameson Wicket, Yormir Huff, Tripelthin Styner. Fighting for a justified cause but hardly men of honor and morals.
“Then how do you suggest I prove my innocence?” he asked.
She turned to Maddy. “We are going to need a few drops of your magic? Is that alright?” The boy nodded his head.
Narah crawled over Garth’s corpse and positioned herself next to Danella, grabbing her elbow. “Try anything and I’ll make you look like a grandmother.” The meaning of her words were lost on King. Who knew if the captive understood. Statue-esque as ever. “Maddy.”
The boy climbed over Garth as well, resting on his knees and placing his hands on Danella’s head. His fingers wrapped as far around it as possible, thumbs pressed to the skin above her eyebrows. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It took but a moment before he lowered his hands down and leaned away from Danella. If the look he gave King was anything to judge by then King was apparently guilty of something.
“What did you find?” Narah asked, glancing back and forth between the boy and King. She drew a dagger.
“Lords!” King said. “That’s not necessary!”
The wagon came to a stop. “What’s wrong back there?” Shade hollered to his sister.
“I don’t know yet!” she said. “Maddy, what is it?”
The boy pointed at King, face riddled with distrust. “He took her son and gave him to the Lotus Queen.”
“Like hell I did!” King shouted. Even Danella was staring at him now. A sense of justice in his thin smirk. “I’ve done my fair share of questionable things but never have I kidnapped a child! And I’d never help Iris Everton!” He racked his brain for what on earth the boy was talking about. Then, it hit him. Kovey Walber.
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“Are you alright?” Shade asked, helping King to the wet ground on the side of the road. Black leather from head to toe seldom made people around it more comfortable, but Shade was an exception. It helped that every movement he made appeared twice as slow and twice as graceful as anything King could manage right now. A drastic difference than what King had witnessed of the man back in Shirk.
King coughed, curling forward in pain. The pain in his throat strongly suggested what was running down his chin was too thick to be saliva. The metallic taste on his tongue confirmed. “I’m standing at The Creator’s gate with no intention of bringing anyone with me. Yet, I sit here bound like a prisoner. Do you think I’m alright?”
Narah hadn’t even let him try to explain himself before she pounced on him like a cat. Rolled him over roughly and tied him up. Treated him no better than Danella and she’d openly shown her vicious side.
“She’s stern,” Shade said, watching his sister dig Garth’s grave with the shovel she’d bought from a passing merchant half an hour before. Danella sat at the back of the wagon, tied legs dangling. Her satisfaction in proving King’s guilt came out as the thinnest of smiles. Maddy was entertaining himself by staring at the captive from a safe distance. Every so often he would glance at King as if trying to piece together the story he’d stolen from Danella’s mind.
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“You’re not mistaken,” King said, doing everything in his power not to cough more. “I met a mountain troll with a better personality than her.” He glanced at Shade when he heard himself. “No offense.”
“None taken. I used to hide from her when she wanted to teach me arithmetic. Consider your restraints getting off easy.”
“Forgive me if I appear sour. I’ve spent my entire life trying to be a good person. An example of The Creator. And still, every step of the way I’ve been given nothing but hardship.”
“If it means anything, I don’t doubt you’re a threat.”
King blew by the comment, insisting on making his self-pity the primary piece of conversation. “You know how I came down with this damn disease?” He received a modest shrug and an even more modest shake of Shade’s head. “I rescued a woman from her horrible life as a sex slave. Walked by her place of employment”– he said the last few words sarcastically– “every morning for what had to be two weeks or more. And every morning she’d wave and invite me inside. To which I declined because that’s what a man of The Creator should do. Eventually, she stopped inviting me and instead gave me a smile, a wave, and a plea for help with her eyes.”
“I’m not seeing how this ends with you suffering from the dark demise,” Shade said while King coughed up a lung.
“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll see the sick, demented twist in a moment. Being the good man I am, I said to myself, I can help this young woman with my blessings.” He turned to Shade. “My magic was good luck. Or so I thought. Anyway, long story short, I used one of those tainted blessings to get her out of her shackles one evening and took her to the edge of town. She kissed me as a thank you. One the lips. The coughing started two days later.”
“Ah. Yes, that is twisted and demented. A shame. My mother used to tell me that no good deed goes unpunished. I never quite saw the truth in that until now.” He glanced at King. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
There was long silence between them as they watched Narah dig as though she hated the earth. Tol’s final words to him cycled through his mind over and over again. Your death will be a painful one. He hadn’t yet wrapped his head around what Tol had done to Garth or him. There were folk tales about servants of The Creator that were meant to monitor the use of magic but no one believed them. They were treated as stories that were meant to keep young Purists from doing foolish things with their power. Witnessing Tol’s magic in action made him question that.
“I don’t know what happened to her son,” King said. “I know who likely did it, but I have no idea what happened.”
“Maybe you should let the boy take a look inside your head. She’ll be more likely to believe you that way. Might even let me cut your ropes.”
King had considered this possibility but the secrets of his past had no business ending up in a young boy’s head. Nor would they be likely to clear his name. “On second thought, I think I’ll die in restraints.”
“Not proud of your past?”
“No.”
“Sounds like too much to carry on the walk home…”
“Telling it won’t make me forget it.”
The way Shade nodded his head ever so slightly was so perfectly efficient. “But it will make it easier to bear. It’ll also help you face the death you fear so much.”
Just then, it began to sprinkle. A fact he’d hardly put more thought into than a whimsical shrug of his shoulders before he’d met Savar. Now, he wondered if Tol and the others were lurking somewhere nearby.
“Too long a story,” King said.
“Well, she’s not going to finish that hole anytime soon.”
“Don’t suppose she’d let you dig for her so I could rest?”
“What do you think?” Shade said.
King bit at his lip. He’d loved making stories and loved telling them more but he’d never told anyone this one. Vowed not to, in fact. A secret for he and The Creator to share. Never even mentioned it to her directly but he knew she was well aware.
“A secret in exchange for a story,” Shade said when he recognized King’s reluctance.
“Not a fair trade, there are secrets woven into my story,” King said, finding himself trying to remain boorish but enjoying Shade’s company more and more by the minute.
“Two secrets then,” Shade said. “I figure I can trust you’ll be walking home before you find anyone significant to tell. Besides Narah, of course. I’d ask that you not mention them to her. You can imagine the hassle that’d cause me.”
King readjusted himself on the embankment. “You first. Gives me a chance to die before it’s my turn.”
“Fair enough.” Shade stared at Danella like she’d put him in a trance. “I know her.”
“If that’s all you’ve got, I regret making this deal.”
Shade shook his head but not at King. He was having a conversation in his own mind. The words fell out of his mouth in a way that wasn’t entirely clear he knew he was saying them. “She killed our parents. They were commoners. Protected by the words of The Creator but they’d been given to her as targets and once you get your targets, you don’t ask questions.” Who assigned the targets, King had no idea, though he knew of groups of assassins in the west that treated their work as most would treat a religion. “She came to me. Told me what she had to do.”
“And you didn’t stop her?”
Another blank shake of his head. “It doesn’t work like that. You know it’s a possibility when you take the oath.”
“Am I to assume Narah doesn’t know that?”
“Your assumption would be right. She’s never to know. No matter how badly I want to tell her. She’d kill Danella and she doesn’t deserve to die.”
“But your parents…”
Shade nodded. “As much as anyone who’s ever been given the white rose.”
“You’re a Thorn?” The Thorns may not be the most active assassin’s guild in Thandlecor, but they were the most feared and the most talented. It was said that if you ever found a white rose in your home you could have been killed a dozen times before that moment.
“Aye. On a temporary leave in order to help with this cause.”
“Why did you attack her then? In Shirk.”
“Narah’s sharper than any of my blades. Finds clues where clues don’t seem to exist.”
It didn’t take Narah’s intellect to tell Shade didn’t want to keep talking. “I was wrong. One secret is plenty.”
Shade’s eyes were still adhered to Danella. “Good, because I don’t have a second I need to share.” Narah was still working feverishly to respect the fallen. Great globs of mud stuck to the shovel now that the rain had picked up. “As I said, Narah doesn’t know and I’d like to keep it that way. She wouldn’t understand. She didn’t know what my parents were up to, what got the white roses delivered in the first place.”
They let the rain do the talking for them for a few moments until King said, “I was laughed out of the High Chamber.”
Shade turned to him. “Please tell me there is more than a barrel full of embarrassment.”
“Only the beginning, my frightening friend, only the beginning.”
King’s imagination spotted a devious grin in the dark clouds forming overhead. At least, he hoped it was his imagination.
“Shall we get out of the rain?” Shade asked.
“Your choice. Can’t imagine it will hurt me any.” When Shade didn’t move, King continued his story. “I spent several years living in Steppe.”
“The hidden village?”
“Aye. I became a king of sorts. Where I got my name if you can believe it. The people there worshiped me for my magic. They were the ones who turned me onto calling them blessings. Simple people. Best communicated with through words of religion. Something I became fluent in as they made me feel like The Creator’s messenger. But I was never truly a devout man. Always gave the bare minimum. In fact, it was me that I loved with all my heart. I became infatuated by my status amongst the Steppes. So much so, that when I heard there was a seat open in the High Chamber, I believed no one could fill it as well as I. Marched my way to Locke and demanded I be elected to fill the vacancy. I had never been to Locke before. Didn’t realize how proud the Purists there were. Lost the vote seven to one.”
“So, you convinced someone. That’s admirable,” Shade said, pulling his damp hood down further over his face.
“Aye. I’d later find out it was someone Alaric Sampson had in his pocket.”
“Oh. Really? He’s a hard man to impress. What’d you do to catch his eye?”
“My magic, of course. At one point I was believed to be the luckiest man in the world. And Alaric needed a healthy dose of luck back then. Even more than he does now, you see. But back then he didn’t just see people as a means to an end. Or if he did, he was better at hiding it. Either way, a friendship was born. He invited me to stay in his home for weeks before I returned to Steppe. Told me if I stayed he’d work on the others in the Crimson Nine. Try to convince them I was worthy of the open seat. Naturally, I took up the offer excitedly.”
What came next stirred even more discomfort in King’s stomach. Luckily, the rain began to fall so hard it was impossible not to seek shelter. “Into the wagon!” Narah yelled to them.
Shade stood, helping King to his feet, leading him across the road. “I expect you to live long enough to finish this story.”
“No promises,” King said, coughing into his shoulder.