Free the Darkness (King's Dark Tidings Book 1) (51 page)

It was a common enough complaint among apprentices, but this
young man looked almost defeated. It seemed that any love he might have had for
his life’s calling had been beaten from him with endless hours of toil for
little gain. “I have need of healing,” Rezkin stated without preamble.

“I figured, else you would not be here,” the healer replied.
“Many such as you came through here. They were always showing up at odd hours
with mysterious injuries – usually traumatic ones – claiming they
occurred in the most mundane of ways. What is your excuse?”

“I fell after fixing a roof,” Rezkin replied.

The young man snorted. “Because every thatcher carries
swords and daggers and wears armor.”

Rezkin pounded fist on the desk. His fever and the pain were
making him irritable. “I did not say I was a thatcher, but the cause is still
the same.”

The young healer’s face sobered. “Look, I am not Dronidus.
Whatever he was involved in, I am not a part of it. I do
not
treat
criminals unless it is requested by the city guard or magistrate.”

“I can make it worth your while,” Rezkin said as he plopped
a heavy purse on the desk.

Yerwey glanced at the purse thoughtfully and then shook his
head. “No, you need to leave. Find someone else.”

Rezkin sighed, his fatigue getting the best of him. He
upended the purse on the desk, and gleaming coins spilled out in a small mound.
Yerwey’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “That’s gold!” he exclaimed.
Rezkin waited as the young man eyed the small fortune hungrily. It was probably
half a year’s income for a Journeyman, and only slightly less for a new Healer.

“I…uh…damn. No, I cannot,” the young healer said as he shook
his head emphatically. “I do not treat criminals,” he whispered quietly, almost
as though it was a mantra he was repeating to convince
himself
.

Rezkin did not have the energy to find another healer. He
needed this one. “I am not a criminal, and likely those men Dronidus treated
were not either. They were most likely strikers.”

“
What
?” Yerwey exclaimed, meeting Rezkin’s fevered
gaze once again.

The warrior sighed again and said, “The strikers do not
visit the Healer’s wards. Their business and their identities are secret and
only a few select healers would be permitted to know of them. When they are
injured, they will go to a Healer’s safe house, like this one,” he gestured to
the room around them.

The young healer looked doubtful, so Rezkin continued.
“Think back. They were all likely large men, finely built with expensive,
quality weapons and equipment. They would have shown little or no reaction to
the pain they were in, and they would already have evaluated their own wounds
prior to arrival. How man criminals would you expect to meet such a standard?”

Rezkin did not know if other strikers had come to Dronidus
for healing, but the strikers who had trained him had insisted he memorize this
place among many others that he could use if ever he was injured in the outworld.
It was likely that if they knew of and had vetted it, then other strikers would
have as well.

Yerwey’s eyes were wide and his lips rounded in an ‘
o
’
as understanding dawned. “And you…” he trailed off.

Rezkin leaned back in is chair. “I am something else,” he
said as he unceremoniously dropped an unsheathed Bladesunder onto the desk with
a
clunk
.

“A Sword Bearer,” Yerwey sputtered. The young healer’s eyes
were riveted to the shiny, swirled blade. A high squeal and hiss sounded loudly
from somewhere in the room, and it eventually drew his attention from the
fantastical blade. “Oh!” he called as his grabbed a thick pad and pulled the
screeching kettle from the flame. He held the kettle as he glanced back toward
the Sheyalin, but the stranger had already withdrawn the magnificent weapon.

Glancing down, Yerwey realized he needed to finish pouring
the tea. He filled a second cup, as well, and brought it over to the young
Sword Bearer. The man’s face was flushed, and perspiration gathered at his
brow. “I, ah, I guess I should check your injuries.”

Rezkin was relieved to see that the man was going to finally
cooperate. He appreciated that the healer lived by a moral code, but he did not
care for the fact that it had delayed his own healing. “My left shoulder was
dislocated, I have at least one broken rib on the left side, and my left tibia
is fractured. I might also have fluid in my lungs.”

As the young man came around to check Rezkin’s injuries he
remarked, “You did not get fluid in your lungs repairing a roof.”

“No, after I was injured, I went for a swim,” Rezkin
replied.

“Of course you did,” the healer muttered as he began the
healing process.

The morning had been quiet. Frisha had not left her room,
and Lady Adelina ordered the young lady’s meals to be delivered to her
quarters. Rezkin had not been around in the morning for their usual training,
so a couple of hours after the midday meal Tam and Rezkin found themselves
training in the back lawn. Rezkin took Pride for a brisk ride around the
perimeter several times so that the spirited stallion could get some exercise.
No one knew that Rezkin had been out with the horse all night, although the
Stable Master Finnian might have noticed. If he had, the man had said nothing.

In the late afternoon, Finnian strode into the stables
announcing that a guest had arrived. Captain Jimson was not expected until
closer to the dinner hour, since he had duties until they left for the
tournament. Unfortunately, with all of the drama the night before, the would-be
travelers had not had the opportunity to discuss their travel arrangements. Tam
and Rezkin made their way into the house only to hear Lady Adelina fussing over
someone.

“No, my lady, I had no problem traveling with the men. They
were all very respectful. Of course, there was the one incident at the
river…Oh, hi Rezkin!” Reaylin beamed as Rezkin and Tam entered the parlor.

“Reaylin,” Rezkin said with a slight bow in greeting. “It is
good to see you again.” Rezkin was not quite sure of the veracity of the
statement, but it was a polite greeting, anyway.

“Not going to greet me, eh, Reaylin?” Tam scoffed.

“Oh, hi Tam,” Reaylin said with decidedly less enthusiasm.
“I was just talking with Lady Adelina.”

“Yes, we heard,” Tam said. “Best not go into the river
incident. I think it was embarrassing enough for everyone the first time.”

Reaylin’s face flushed, “Oh, right.”

Lady Adelina’s eyes sparkled as she asserted, “Oh, no, dear.
You cannot leave off, now. You have already broached the subject, and now you
simply
must
share.”

Reaylin flushed again, “Oh, um, well, you see…Frisha and I
went to bathe upstream, and then when we were walking back we came upon Rezkin.
He was also bathing, but you know, the water wasn’t that deep, and anyway…well,
then Frisha and I kind of fell in…”

Tam cleared his throat loudly, “If you’re going to tell an
embarrassing story, you have to tell it right!”

Reaylin’s face was bright red as she darted a glance at
Rezkin who was standing stoically waiting to hear the rest of the story.
Actually, he had never asked what caused the fight in the first place, although
Jimson had mentioned his hypothesis.

“Right, well, Frisha and I sort of got into a fight, and
then we fell in the water and kept fighting…a lot,” Reaylin said as Lady
Adelina gasped. “Rezkin heard one of us scream, so he came running to see what
the problem was. Well, you know, he had been bathing, so he was completely
naked.” Lady Adelina could not stop the giggle that bubbled up and had to cover
her mouth to hide a smile as her eyes wandered over the handsome, well-defined
young man. “So, then all of a sudden Tam and Jimson show up, and Jimson thinks
Rezkin is trying to take advantage of us.”

Adelina gasped again, “No!”

Reaylin nodded emphatically, “Well, Rezkin did not take
kindly to the accusation, and things weren’t so good between him and Jimson for
a while, but they didn’t fight or anything. When it was all over, Rezkin was
sweet enough to treat our wounds, and he gave us some herbs that really helped
with the pain. We were all really embarrassed. Except Rezkin, I think, who was
just mad, and Tam, I guess, who didn’t do anything.”

Lady Adelina grinned and said, “Frisha did not tell me that
story. I think I might have to mention it.” Then, her face fell and she said,
“Well, not right away, I suppose.” She waved her hand and said, “I will let you
young people visit while I go check on my dear niece. It was a pleasure to meet
you Reaylin.”

“Likewise, my lady,” Reaylin said performing an awkward
curtsy that just looked strange with her wearing pants and a sword strapped to
her hip. As Adelina left, Reaylin looked back at Tam and Rezkin and asked, “So,
what’s wrong with Frisha? Is she ill?”

Tam glanced at Rezkin, who did not seem inclined to answer
and decided to just tell her and get it over with. “Frisha’s uncle rejected
Rezkin’s proposal.”

Reaylin’s eyes widened. “What?” Her attention darted to
Rezkin. “You proposed?
Marriage
? And, he
rejected
you? I can’t
believe that! Who in their right mind would reject
you
?” Reaylin’s mouth
snapped shut as she realized what she said, and her face flushed once again.

Rezkin shook his head, “It does not matter, now. The
decision has been made, and he is not likely to change his mind.” Changing the
subject, Rezkin informed her, “Captain Jimson will be here in about an hour. We
are to discuss our travel plans at that time. I assume that is why you are
here.”

“Captain? He got promoted, huh? That’s great. Uh, yes, I
came by to see when we were leaving for the tournament and how we plan to get
there,” Reaylin answered.

Rezkin turned to Tam. “Perhaps you would like to take
Reaylin on a tour of the grounds while we await the captain’s arrival?”

Tam scowled at Rezkin. He absolutely had no desire to be
left alone with the neurotic female, but he replied, “Sure, that sounds great.
You’ll love it, Reaylin.”

Rezkin was glad to be rid of the pair. He really did not
like dealing with the awkward looks of mixed confusion and sympathy every time
someone brought up his failed proposal. Rezkin had never been a prideful man.
All of his experiences prior to leaving the fortress had to do with battle and
training, which fell under the jurisdiction of
Rule 14 – Do not revel
in success
. He had to admit, though, that this rejection stung. The fact
that the decision had been made based on the general’s opinion of Rezkin’s
character
actually caused that increasingly familiar tightness in his chest to return.

Rezkin wandered into the study that held the multitude of
weapons. He retrieved two matching ones he had seen in his previous visits.
They were identical and meant to be wielded as a set. Each one consisted of a
central hardwood shaft about the length of his forearm. A curved scythe-like
blade extended from the tip of each end of the shaft back toward the other end
of the shaft but did not connect. They were most unusual weapons for Ashai, but
he had seen them before. They were called su’carai and were used by the nomads
of the mountain tribes far to the East. A foreign warrior had been brought to
the fortress to train Rezkin in the use of the strange weapons, but it had been
a while since he had worked with them.

The young warrior took one in each hand, placing his palms
in the centers of the shafts. Then, he began spinning them in his fingers so
that each looked like a bladed disk. He walked with them into the center of the
room, which was kept clear, presumably for this purpose and began sweeping
through the forms scoured from his memories.

As his body fell into the familiar motions, the blades spun
faster until they created a whirring sound as they swept through the air.
Rezkin twisted and spun all the while keeping the blades in motion. The whirring
became a melodic cadence that sounded like the ebb and flow of an enormous
locust swarm. When Rezkin had completed the final form, the spinning blades
came to an abrupt halt, and so did the music.

Rezkin turned to the wall to replace the weapons as he said,
“Good afternoon, General. You are home early, again.”

General Marcum stood in the doorway in his crisp military
uniform, clasping his hands behind his back. He grunted and remarked, “I have
never actually seen those weapons in use. They were always fascinating to me,
but I had a difficult time imagining how they could be effective. I understand,
now. The man I purchased them from assured me that a true Master could make
them sing. It seems he was telling the truth.”

“They are surely an interesting weapon – one I had not
seen in quite some time,” Rezkin replied.

Marcum shook his head and replied, “You speak of time as
would a man two or three times your age. How long has it been since you
mastered the su’carai?”

Rezkin cocked his head in thought. “Perhaps three or four
years. These were a little awkward when I first picked them up. Yours are
slightly larger than those to which I was accustomed. I imagine mine were sized
to fit me at the time.”

“It did not appear to be the least bit awkward from my perspective,”
the general commented.

“It came back quickly, and I adjusted,” Rezkin replied. “I
have
practiced with them on occasion since then, just not often.”

The general grunted as his eyes sought the window, where his
attention lingered. Rezkin glanced out the window and saw nothing of interest.
Realizing the general was lost in thought, Rezkin cleared his throat in an
effort to regain the man’s attention. General Marcum looked back at the young
warrior and said, “I have not changed my mind about your proposal, but I have
decided to allow Frisha to travel with you to the tournament. There will be
some conditions, of course. Propriety must be observed.”

“Why?” Rezkin asked. “Why does it matter to you if she
attends the tournament?”

“Because she wishes to go,” the general remarked. “And, it
would give her a chance to meet with the other nobles.” The astute warrior
could tell the general had another reason but was disinclined to discuss it.

Rezkin grunted in disbelief, “So, you would have me escort
her so that she may look for other suitors?”

General Marcum frowned while he ran the conversation through
his head again. Realizing that was indeed what it had sounded like, he said,
“No, that is not what I meant. I was not referring to the young men. I just
meant the other nobles, in general. Many of her peers, the young ones,
especially, will be attending the tournament, and it would be a good social
opportunity for her. Plus, as she pointed out, she would get to experience the
excitement of the tournament before she settles down.”

Rezkin felt that sudden pang in his chest, and he realized
he did not like the idea of Frisha settling down. This time Rezkin glanced
away.

“Does that bother you?” the general asked.

“Is that your intent, General? Do you wish to antagonize
me?” Rezkin asked.

General Marcum released a heavy sigh. “No, that was not my
intent. I just find myself wondering if you are capable of feeling like the
rest of us.”

Rezkin frowned. “Perhaps I am, perhaps not. Are you capable
of feeling in the same manner Frisha does? I heard her crying most of last
night, and she has yet to show herself today. If you are incapable of feeling
the way she does, does that make you less of a person?”

“I acknowledge your point. And, it is also not my intent to
upset Frisha. When I decided to name her my heir, it was in hopes that I could
give her a better life, not that her life was so terrible in the first place.
Her father has been quite successful for a commoner. Ever since she came here,
though, I have been regretting my decision. I had not imagined she would
encounter so much danger on the trip here, and I certainly did not consider
that she might meet the man she wished to marry during the journey. I would
never have expected that it would be one such as you, but conversely, if it had
not been you, then she likely would not have made it here at all.”

Rezkin furrowed his brow. “To be honest, I do not know why
she is so upset. She has so many other options,” he stated as that tightness in
his chest returned, “and aside from the protection I have provided, I have
given her no evidence of my worth.”

“The heart is fickle,” the general grumbled. “I spoke with
Tam, and from what he says, that girl has wanted you since the moment you met.
But,” Marcum stated as he held up a finger to make a point, “what we want is
not always what is best for us.”

“What one man believes is best is not always so,” Rezkin
countered.

“There are certain truths throughout society, and what you
are, Rezkin, is not wholesome,” the general stated.

Rezkin scoffed, “Name me a noble who is
wholesome
,
General. For every major and minor house, I could reveal at least a handful of
scandals and hidden skeletons. Men and women, alike, cheat and steal and even
murder on occasion. Some men beat their wives, engage in extramarital affairs
and have a dozen illegitimate children running homeless in the streets. They
plot and scheme against each other always seeking some new morsel of power or
wealth. No House is spared, General. Not even your own.”

General Marcum narrowed his eyes at the young man. If Rezkin
were any other man, he would think the man knew far too much for his own good,
but this particular man could handle any problems and probably knew expertly
how to use the information. He wondered just what Rezkin knew of the
clandestine affairs of his own House. It was just one more thread of power the
young man had over him that Rezkin refused to use against the general to get
his way. Not that Rezkin really needed any more power, but it was astonishing
that the man could restrain himself from just taking what he wanted. This whole
situation with Frisha was obviously upsetting to them both. If it were he in
the same situation, Marcum knew he would not be so noble. And, there it was
again. The
noble
Rezkin.

Rezkin noted the general’s concern and waved away the
concern. “Do not worry yourself, General. I have no intention of blackmailing
you. I have far more efficient ways of getting things done. All I am saying is
that if you define your word
wholesome
by the actions of the nobles,
then I want nothing to do with it, and I should think you would prefer Frisha
to stay out of it, as well.”