The Forever Knight: A Novel of the Bronze Knight (Books of the Bronze Knight) (14 page)

Cricket?

She’ll be safe.

I had no choice but to believe him. “All right,” I agreed. “We’ll stay the night. If you’d make a place for us.”

“What?” cried Cricket. She pointed at Wrestler. “So he can rape me while I sleep?”

Diriel seemed offended. “Child, haven’t you heard me? This is where you are safe, not out there. Outside these walls you’re a deer to be hunted. Inside you belong to me, and no one touches what is mine.”

I looked at Wrestler. “Listen good, shit-eater. I don’t need sleep. I’m going to be up all night standing guard over her. You’re fast with your hands, I’ll give you that, but it won’t be a fair fight next time. You come after her, you’ll lose your head. Understand?”

Wrestler winked to mock me.

“Gargoyle, I asked if you understand me.”

“I understand.”

Grecht hurried forward and took Cricket’s hand, trying to lead her out of the throne room. She pulled free of him, glaring as though I’d betrayed her.

“Go with him,” I ordered. “I’ll be along.”

Pleased, Diriel relaxed as he watched Cricket taken from the chamber. “Think hard tonight, Sir Lukien,” he advised. “If you can get me the monster, we can part ways happy men.”

“And you’ll guarantee Cricket’s safety?” I asked.

“For as long as you’re here,” agreed the king. “After that, I guarantee nothing.”

I
didn’t sleep at all that night.

We spent the first half of it arguing—me, Cricket, and Malator. Cricket was angrier than I’d ever seen her, blaming me for risking her life and dragging us all to Diriel’s hellhole in the first place. There was nothing I could do to defend myself. My mission was folly. I knew that the first moment I set eyes on Diriel. Now I had trapped us in a castle of horrors, where our host was a cannibal, and his henchman planned to hunt us the moment we left the grounds. Worse, I had learned almost nothing about the monster. I tried to apologize to Cricket but my words were stale. Up till now Cricket had always believed me, but this time I had truly blundered, and I knew that she wished she had never come with me to Akyre or ever agreed to be my squire.

We didn’t eat that night either. Grecht brought food to our dismal little room, a tray of gray meat, hard bread, and some fruit that wasn’t even ripe yet. Cricket and I took one look at the indistinguishable meat and wondered what, or who, it had come from. Food didn’t matter anyway. Cricket was too afraid to eat, and I couldn’t think about anything other than finding a way out. I stared out of the single dingy window, watching night collapse on the courtyard below. The tiny room felt like a prison cell. Malator stood by the door, fully visible to both me and Cricket, scratching his non-existent beard as he considered things. Cricket stretched out on one of the two hard beds, staring up at the ceiling, refusing to look at me.

“We’re going back to Isowon,” I said finally. This was after an hour of arguing, with no good suggestions from anyone.

“Why?” asked Cricket. “Didn’t you already burn that bridge?”

“We have to warn them,” I said. “Marilius was right about Diriel. He was right about everything. Diriel’s insane. He’s going after Isowon no matter what he says.”

“He wants the monster,” said Malator. “Maybe if he thinks you’ll get it for him, it’ll buy Isowon some time.”

I turned away from the window to look at him. “Tell me right now: is that possible? A straight answer, Malator. Can that thing be controlled? Can it hear what we say to it? Can it think?”

“I don’t know, Lukien, truly,” said Malator. He didn’t bother lowering his voice; the castle was so empty no one was listening. “You should have found out more about it from Diriel. He knows things.”

“He doesn’t know Fallon tore up his ancestors’ graves for it,” Cricket snorted.

“The creature comes from an Akyren tomb,” said Malator. “But it’s not some dead king. And it’s not a spirit, either. It’s something more powerful.”

“A demon, you said.”

“There are all sorts of demons, Lukien. All sorts of hells. But there is one thing I can tell you for sure: Diriel can’t bargain with you for the souls of those men. Those men are gone.”

“Gone where?”

“To whatever hell they believe in here. To the same realm the creature comes from, maybe. Remember what Marilius told you—the mummia only worked once the monster came.”

“How many of those legionnaires does Diriel have, you suppose? I counted at least twenty in his throne room.”

“More than that, surely,” said Malator. “If he’s planning on attacking Anton Fallon, he’ll need far more than that.”

“Well, we know they can die,” I said. “That’s something at least.”

Cricket sat up with a groan. “Why do you care, Lukien?” She rolled to the side of the bed. “You don’t know these people. You don’t owe them anything. Malator’s right—there’s nothing you can do for them. Let’s just get out of here.”

“Back to Isowon?” Malator asked.

“Right.”

“What about Sky Falls?” asked Cricket. “What about your promise, Lukien? I’m just starting to remember stuff. If I can just see the Falls again, maybe it’ll all come back to me.”

“And maybe it won’t,” I said sharply. “Has coming here helped your memory at all? You haven’t said.”

“No, but why would it? I’m sure I never came here before. No one could forget this place!”

“You forgot your mother and father. You forgot your family’s name.”

“I remembered the Bloody Knot.”

“And nothing else. We’ve been traveling for days, and that’s the only thing you remember.” I lowered my voice. “We’ll go to Sky Falls when we can, if we’re lucky and no one follows us out of here. We’ll see.”

Cricket scowled but said nothing. She flopped back on the bed.

“Diriel will want his answer in the morning,” said Malator. “What are you going to tell him, Lukien?”

Every option seemed dismal. “I need to think,” I sighed and went back to staring out the window.

*   *   *

Cricket slept, and I watched over her as I’d promised, tipping back on the legs of my chair with the Sword of Angels in my lap and no one to keep me company. Malator had disappeared back into the blade. I could feel him within it, as though he were far away. Outside my dingy window I watched the moon rise and fall, watched the rats skitter across the colonnade. I listened to the wind, like it was crying, wondered if the Kassen slaves were still piled atop each other, and closed my eyes just long enough to picture that man who’d slit his throat the way another might cut a cake. No one came to our room that night, not even Grecht. When the sun finally came up, I welcomed the light until I realized nothing outside my window had changed.

Cricket woke up looking for breakfast, but there wasn’t any, just the untouched tray of inedibles we’d been given the night before. She didn’t apologize, but she didn’t antagonize me anymore, either. She washed her face in a basin of gray water, waiting for me to tell her what kind of plan I’d come up with.

“So?” She dried herself with the inside of her cape. “What’d you decide?”

I was about to answer “Nothing,” when a knock at the door startled us both. Grecht pushed the door aside and peeked in his oversized head. “Sir Lukien? Good morning! Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“Oh, I thought it was clear. King Diriel wishes to speak to you. Right at this moment, please.”

I finally got out of my chair and sheathed my sword. “Our horses ready?”

“In the courtyard. Both fed and rested.” Grecht opened the door wider and stepped aside for us. “Come now.”

Grecht’s smile seemed genuine. Was Diriel really letting us go?

“Let us get our things together,” I said, even though we had almost nothing. Cricket draped her cape around her shoulders and shot me a look of mistrust. All I could do was shrug.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“In the cloister, waiting for you,” said Grecht. “He’s eager for your answer.”

“Take us there,” I ordered. Only I didn’t have an answer. Not really. I spent the night trying to think of one, but Diriel wasn’t going to be reasonable. He’d left reason behind a long time ago.

I followed Grecht into the hallway, keeping Cricket close beside me. The hall was as empty as the night before, and we didn’t pass a single soul until we descended the stairs down to the ground level. The castle was even emptier than the day before. I supposed everyone was sleeping. Shafts of dusty light sliced through the hall from the slender arrow-loops. The hall led us out into daylight, into the arched colonnade I’d watched from our chamber. I took a deep breath to clear the smell of the castle from my lungs, grateful just to be outside again. The colonnade circled the back of the castle, away from the front courtyard and the wind of the mountains. The peace disarmed me. There were no slaves, no skulls, no half-dead soldiers, just old stones, grass, a few struggling trees. Wonderfully boring things. I began to relax.

Until a cry knifed through the silence.

Cricket stopped with a gasp. “What was
that
?”

When the noise came again I listened closely. “An animal?”

“Oh, that damn noise,” grunted Grecht. “Come. Don’t worry. Come.”

Maybe a cat, I thought, remembering the way I’d heard them scream with heat in the streets of Koth. The silence of the morning made the cry seem ten times louder. Yet, my heartbeat calmed and we followed Grecht down the colonnade until we reached a lawn of overgrown grass and dead flowers. Out in the center of the scrubby lawn squatted Diriel, smack in the sunlight, petting a big, regal-looking peacock. The sight so stunned me, I went mute. Cricket peered at him, then declared him completely mindless.

“Now we know, huh?” she scoffed. “As though we doubted it.”

He looked like a child, his knees smudged with dirt, his fingers gentle over the feathers. A big, insane child. He didn’t even notice us watching him. The bird let out another of its piercing cries, and Diriel soothed it, talking to it like a baby and stroking its back. Grecht nervously cleared his throat before stepping on to the lawn.

“Unrivaled?” he called. “He’s here.”

Diriel didn’t even stand up but waved me over like a playmate. “Come over here,” he shouted.

“He means you, Sir Lukien,” said Grecht. “Just you. Not the girl.”

“Why? What’s the problem? I keep telling him—”

“No, it’s all right,” said Cricket. “I’m fine. I’ll wait here.” She glared at Grecht. “Is that okay with you?”

Grecht held up his little hands. “He’s the ruler not me.”

“All right, just stay where I can see you,” I told Cricket. “Let me get this over with so we can leave. Grecht, where’s Wrestler?”

“Somewhere else. King Diriel only comes here himself. The cloister is forbidden to Wrestler.”

I stooped all the way down, face to face with him. “If you’re lying to me, Grecht, you should know I have no conscience about killing midgets.”

Grecht raised his chin at me, then pointed with his flapping sleeve to Diriel. “Go.”

He wasn’t afraid of me. No one here was. I walked across the grass to where Diriel was waiting, digging in to a sack at his belt for feed for the peacock. He scattered the seeds or whatever they were on the ground, then stood to meet me.

“Have you made your decision?” he asked.

I stalled, because I hadn’t. “Is that a pet?”

“No,” said Diriel. “A prize. I wanted you to see it. Have you seen a peacock before? They used to be all over this part of the Bitter Kingdoms. No more though.”

I knew he wanted me to ask, so I did. “Why? What happened to them?”

“War happened. The same thing that happened to all the people. Siege. Starvation. You must have wondered, yes? I saw you sitting by the window all night. You must have been thinking about something.”

“You were down in the yard?”

“I wasn’t spying, if that’s what you’re thinking. I walk every night through the yards.”

“Bad dreams?” I asked. “I wonder why.”

Diriel wiped the seed from his palms. He squatted down next to the peacock and ran his fingers over its long, back feathers. “People think this is a tail, but it isn’t. It’s called a covert. He doesn’t always raise it up like this, but he’s looking for a mate.”

“Like a cat,” I said. “That noise he makes.”

“He won’t find one, though. Not in Akyre. They’re all dead. Haven’t you noticed how quiet it is here? When you were on the road here, did you see peacocks? Or anything?”

I thought about it but couldn’t recall seeing even a flock of starlings. The landscape was a rugged one, but even deserts had animals in them. “You said starvation. You ate them?”

“Everything that could walk, crawl, or fly through the sky,” said Diriel. “And then anything else.” He looked up at me with his pointed teeth. “The Kassens started it. You should know that. Always wanting war. Drin, too. They went along like lap dogs. They love to burn things, the Kassens. The farms were gone in a month. This castle was where they made their siege. We held them, though. They never made it across the bridge. It took almost a year, but eventually they gave up. Retreated back to Kasse. We had so many dead we tossed them into the ravine by the hundreds.”

“When did you start . . .”

I stopped. I just couldn’t say it. But I really didn’t have to. Diriel took my meaning. He took my hand in his own claw-like fingers and guided them to the peacock.

“Like this,” he said, directing my hand as we stroked the beautiful bird. When he let go I kept stroking, understanding instantly his connection with the creature, the only thing of any beauty for miles. I was in for a story whether I liked it or not, and petting the peacock somehow made it more bearable.

“When the siege broke we realized the Kassens had taken or destroyed everything. Anyone who didn’t make it into the castle had scattered. The land was burned. Useless. They call these lands the Bitter Kingdoms for a reason. Even good years here have droughts, blight, every curse the gods know how to give. The year I was born, they tell me there were so many locusts you couldn’t even see the sky. Those bastard bugs ate everything that year, but even then we didn’t eat people.”

Diriel prodded me suddenly with his finger.

“You getting what I’m saying, Liirian? You imagining how bad things were?” He pointed at his sharpened teeth. “You see these? I was the first. I filed them down and sucked the meat off the first Kassen’s bones I could get my lips around, just to show my people I wasn’t afraid. Scared the livin’ shit out of the Kassens. Told them we were coming for them.”

I kept petting the bird as calmly as I could. Just past Diriel I saw Cricket in the colonnade, puzzling over what we were saying.

“Is that when you asked Fallon for the mummia?”

“Not at first. At first I didn’t need it. My legionnaires were starved but hungry for revenge. We broke over the border like a wave! And when those Kassen pigs saw us, all screaming and bloody, they ran. So we went after them. That’s when I remembered. The old Akyren kings knew about magic. They called upon the powers of the dead. That’s my bloodline. It’s my right! I gave everything I had left to that skunk Anton Fallon. And you know why he took it? Because he doesn’t care about anything but money. He didn’t lift a pinky finger to stop the slaughter in Akyre. Just kept right on selling his spices from Zura, silks for his fancy-boy friends, everything.”

“That sounds like Fallon all right.”

“Sounds like a Liirian, too,” spat Diriel. “I sent emissaries to Liiria. And to Reec and Norvor. Do you know what I heard back? Nothing. I told them how the Kassens were murdering us. I sent them a cloth from my own daughter’s dress with a note about how she starved to death. You have some cold-hearted kings on the continent, Sir Lukien. They could’ve helped us. But they didn’t. So piss on all of them!”