Percival felt like a human being for the first time since his capture. The
clothes the men had brought him were a good fit, and a welcome change after
the rags he’d been living in since being stripped of his armor. They
were simple; a green shirt, black pants and leather boots that came to just
below his knees. Still, while the fresh trappings were a valued gift, he
was more thankful for being allowed to wash and shave.
Although the guards had said the meal he was to share with the Captain was
lunch, far too much time had passed since they had delivered the water and
then disappeared. After darkness had overtaken the small amount of light
that permeated his cell, and the air noticeably chilled, he resigned himself
to another night of hunger. Sitting cross-legged on the small bed of straw,
he decided upon offering an evening prayer to Sadie.
His devotions were rudely interrupted by the same two officers who had
accompanied the fat man earlier. One shouted to him in the near-darkness,
“The Captain is ready for you!”
He finished the prayer by offering humble thanks for his blessings and rose
to his feet. The men fumbled with the mass of keys until they finally located
the correct one for the cell. The taller of the two stepped inside and gave
an order: “Put your hands behind your back.”
Percival did as he was asked, as there was no point in resisting. A second
later he felt the rough texture of rope encircle his wrists, and then the
man turned him around. “Start walking towards the stairs. Don’t
try anything stupid. We’re both armed.”
The knight gave a nod as the two men flanked him, their hands firmly gripping
the hilts of their swords. Up the stairs they went, and Percival could tell
that his intuition was correct. He was on a boat—a massive one. Looking
around the deck, even in the darkness, he saw that she had three masts full
of sails, a wide hull, and a small army of men running ragged to keep her
moving towards the star-filled horizon.
The men led him to the stern of the ship, and then up a staircase which brought
them into the Captain’s dining room. It was lush, with a large wooden
table and well-carved chairs set elegantly atop an exotic-looking rug. Lamps
hung about the room provided a fair amount of light, and fresh-smelling flowers
brought fragrance that did a good job of hiding the stench of tar.
Seated at the table was the fat man who said in a sly voice, “I don’t
believe our guest will misbehave. Cut his ties.”
Wordlessly, one of the guards sliced through the rope binding Percival’s
hands and then pushed him down into a chair by his shoulders.
“Keep your hands on the table,” the fat man ordered.
“I think we can speak civilly to our guest, Troian,” a woman who
appeared in the doorway reprimanded.
Troian was apparently caught off guard by her, jumped to his feet and gave
formal introductions. “Rise in the presence of our Captain, Kylan
Locusti.”
The guards yanked Percival back up, as he stared at the black haired woman
and realized she had been the man with the awkward beard in the Pit.
“You seem surprised,” the woman said to her prisoner as she took
a seat and waved him back into his chair. “I expected less of a reaction
from a man who married Zexen’s Silver Maiden.”
“Chris never hid the fact that she was a woman,” Percival retorted.
“We accepted her for what she was—and followed her
regardless.”
Kylan held his gaze. “A romantic notion, but not necessarily a sound
business practice—not in my case at least. I keep my father’s image
and name so that his old enemies believe he is alive. Keeping his legend
breathing has saved me many hassles.”
A knock came on the door before Percival could respond, and the food was
delivered. His stomach growled audibly at the sight. It wasn’t tasteless
gruel, but fresh cooked fish, seasoned vegetables, and a loaf of hot bread.
As the servants placed the meal in front of them he had to fight his instinct
to just grab the food with his hands and eat.
The woman smirked at the Zexen. “Our meal appears to have arrived.”
She turned to the guards and Troian with a raised eyebrow and they followed
the servants out, closing the door behind them.
Kylan served the food, and as she placed a plate in front of Percival she
said, “I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here.”
“It had crossed my mind,” the knight said as he took a bite of
the fish—it was delicious.
She smiled at him as she finished chewing a piece of bread. “Of course,
Andrew.”
“You know my name is Percival,” he said, glancing over the top
of his glass.
“Correction. It was. On this ship, you will be called Andrew.”
“I don’t understand,” the knight countered, as he cut another
piece of fish. “What purpose does forcing me to answer to a foreign
name serve?”
“It serves my purposes.”
“Do you always give responses that make such little sense?”
Kylan glared at him. “They make sense to me. It’s my ship. You’re
a guest—whether you want to be here or not—and I will call you
whatever I wish.”
Percival could see this was going nowhere and tried to cut to the heart of
the matter. “Are you going to tell me why I’m on this boat or
not?”
“Suffice it to say that I’m fulfilling a contract,” she replied.
“A contract?”
“Yes. My client paid me a rather handsome sum to capture and keep
you.”
The knight fought the urge to laugh as he put his fork down. “Me? You
must be mistaken. No one in Zexen would ransom me. I’m not valued by
any of them. I’m not even worthy of one of their precious
titles.”
“Who said they wanted to ransom you?”
“Why else go through all of this?”
“That’s not for me to say.”
“Surely your client told you.”
“No. I care little for details in such matters.”
Resigned to the fact that he would not get any further on the subject, Percival
asked the question that had been consuming him. “What will happen to
my men?”
Kylan finished chewing a bit of vegetable and said, “Ah, such noblesse
oblige.”
“Stop mocking me and answer my question.”
“I don’t think you’re in the position to be making demands,
Andrew.”
“They are good men and deserve better treatment than to be left in that
hell to rot.”
She gave him a wink as she took another bite of fish. “Ah, but they
aren’t there any more.”
“Where are they?”
“That depends on how loyal they are to Zexen,” she replied with
a smirk.
Percival’s patience had vanished. “What the hell is that supposed
to mean?”
“It means, my dearest Andrew, that your pathetic ‘good men’
will be given an option. If they make the right decision, they’ll keep
their lives.”
“You’d execute them for refusing whatever sick desires you wish
for them to fulfill?”
“In a word: yes. I’ve even created a device that ensures a swift
death. No more hanging or beheading by axe. The first way is too boring and
the second too messy.”
He pushed what was left of his meal aside. “Then use this thing you
are so proud of and kill me now. I want nothing more to do with your
group.”
“Ah, no,” Kylan said as she put his plate back in front of him.
“That would be too easy. Besides, my contract guarantees your well-being.
Your men were just collateral damage.”
He reached over the table and grabbed her around the throat. All of his manners,
training, and restraint left him as instinct took over. His voice became
animalistic as he thought of his men, chained like dogs and treated worse
than rats. “I’ll kill you right now if you don’t release
them!”
Kylan was amazingly calm, given that his hand nearly encircled her neck.
“Ah, but you won’t, Andrew. My men have orders to sack Iksay should
anything happen to me while you are on this ship. It wouldn’t even take
my entire fleet to crush both Budehuc and your village! If the winds are
right, that run-down castle is less than five days sail from our current
spot on the chart. Once we land, it would be less than a day’s ride
to Iksay. I bet your sons would be so happy to see you—if even for a
moment before I slit their throats.”
Percival released his grip in defeat and sat back down in his chair. The
woman sneered at him, the creases in the corners of her mouth telling that
she knew all of his weaknesses and how to exploit them. And for that, he
hated her.
Rubbing her neck, she jumped up, opened the door to the cabin and called
in two guards. “Take Andrew to the hole. Leave him there for three days.
No food, no water. He’s got quite a temper on him, and I won’t
have that on my ship.”
The guards bowed their heads to the Captain and hauled Percival to his feet.
One of them snarled, “Come now. Don’t make us be rough on you!”
Reluctantly, the knight allowed the guards to lead him to a grate on the
bow. The smaller of the two yanked it open and said, “Get in or we’ll
put you in!”
Percival sat down and dropped into the hole, feet first. It was too short
to stand in, and not wide enough to sit. Resigned to lean in a most uncomfortable
position, he sighed, and again begged Sadie for a swift and confirmed
death.
Chris finished packing her things in the darkness of Torrie’s living
room, with just a small lamp for light. She had asked Salome to leave early,
not because of time, but so that her children would not be awake to see her
go. It was hard enough to say good-bye the night before, and if she had to
do it again, she might not be able to. Before she tucked them into Torrie’s
guest bed, she gave them both instructions to be on their best behavior,
to eat their greens, and to always remember that no matter what, both she
and their father loved them.
As she was tying up her pack, she heard shuffling in the hallway behind her.
Turning around, she saw the dark eyes of her elder son peering around the
corner. Realizing she had noticed him, he walked into the room, and sat on
the small sofa.
“Ryan,” she whispered. “What are you doing up so
early?”
He shrugged and looked at the floor, “I just wanted to see you
off.”
Chris set the pack on the floor and sat next to her son. Motherly instinct
told her that something was bothering him—the toes on his bare feet
were curled in anxiety. Pulling him onto her lap, she saw his cheeks were
damp, and so she asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m scared, Mother. I know I shouldn’t be, but I
am.”
She held him in her arms as if he were an infant again and brushed his hair
out of his face. “It’s all right, Ryan. There’s nothing to
be afraid of—everything will work out, you’ll see.”
He nodded ever so slightly and rested his head on her shoulder. “I heard
you talking to Louis. I know what’s going to happen to us if
you—“
“Nothing is going to happen,” she interrupted him, and then kissed
his cheek. Guilt suddenly filled her, so she felt compelled to ask, “Do
you want me to stay, Ryan? We could just go home.”
He considered a moment, and then shook his head emphatically. “No. I
want you to go get Father. I want us all to go home together.”
Cuddling him closer, she gave him a kiss on the forehead. “We
will.”
He sat up and faced her, finding some hope within her words and touch. “I
know we will. Father used to always tell me that nothing is gained without
a risk. I know you’re going to be in danger, but I will pray for you.
Then you’ll be sure to be safe.”
Chris pulled him into a tight embrace, his innocent rationale touching her
heart. Oh, how she hated to leave him—to leave them both—but it
was for best. Soon she would return with Percival and the four of them would
go back to Iksay and never part again. She kissed his cheek again, and then
whispered, “Promise me you’ll look after Geoffrey while I’m
away.”
“Of course, Mother.” He pulled back to look her in the eye, and
then spoke in a voice that mustered all his strength. “And…and
if something does happen and we have to go with Louis, I understand. And
when Geoff is old enough, I’ll make sure he does, too.”
“All right,” she said as she fought the strain in her own throat.
With another kiss, she gave him a compliment he was sure to hold in the highest
regard. “Your father would be proud of you, Ryan.”
Chris led her horse to the city gate, impatient for this quest to end, even
thought it had yet to start. She wasn’t surprised to see that Salome
was already there, waiting for her, and performing a ritual she was all too
familiar with—the farewell before dawn. Knowing it would be rude to
approach her friend and his wife as they offered each other words and kisses
of promise, she busied herself with checking her saddle packs and girth.
A few moments later, she heard her name called and looked up at Salome and
Ardeth, pretending to notice them for the first time. Leading her horse over,
she offered her hand in greeting to the other woman as Salome stepped away
to give orders to the knights that made up his escort.
“It’s good to see you again, although I wish the circumstances
were different,” the brunette said. “You have my sympathy and my
prayers.”
“Thank you,” Chris replied, and then paused to find a more intelligent
answer, which did not materialize. “But I’m confident that things
will work out in the end.”
“I pray that they do,” Ardeth said before glancing at her husband.
Chris followed the woman’s eyes as a glimmer of the last farewell she
said to Percival tickled her memory. Upon leaving, he would always say to
her, “Farewell my love, but not good-bye.” How she wished to hear
those words now, but she knew she wouldn’t. So, in a gentle voice, she
just commiserated with the other. “Yes. I know what it’s like to
have him gone all the time. Home for less than a week, and then back he goes
until Goddess knows when.”
Ardeth nodded, and adjusted the weight on her braced right foot. “Chris,
I don’t mean to doubt you, but why are you going to put yourself through
this?”
“I intend to take care of this problem because it’s tearing the
people in our country apart. Families are being destroyed every day just
because the Council is greedy and unable to negotiate a peace we all
deserve.”
“That’s why I respect you, Chris. You may have a personal stake
in this journey, but you are still thinking of everyone else.” She took
the former knight into a friendly embrace. “But please, be
careful.”
“I will.” She said as she returned the hug and then smiled at the
woman. “Your husband never let me act recklessly in the past, and I’m
sure he won’t now.”
Ardeth gave a tired grin to Chris and then whispered, “You’re right,
but please keep an eye on him as well. I need him back more than ever,
now.”
“Milady!” Salome called, interrupting the conversation, just as
Chris’s curiosity had been piqued. “We’d best get on our
way.”
She gave a quick nod to Ardeth and then mounted her horse. Turning to offer
a wave from the saddle, she saw the Captain receiving some sort of token
from his wife. Glancing away again, she knew a few more hushed vows and one
last kiss would be exchanged before they departed for Brass Castle. It’s
always the last one that hurts the most, isn’t it, Percy?
The road through the Zexen Forest was one rather frequently traveled, and
although threats were minimal, Chris was thankful for the escort. The two
knights rode five or so horse-lengths ahead of Salome and herself, and although
she couldn’t hear them talking, it seemed to be a very lively conversation.
The ride was leisurely; there was no need to rush, and so the pace was set
at a walk.
Still, despite the safe surroundings, pleasant weather and easy ride, her
friend hadn’t said a word since they had left the capital a few hours
ago. She could tell by his furrowed brow and downcast eyes that something
was troubling him. Turning to the Captain riding on her right, she offered
a sincere observation and question. “You seem awfully quiet today, my
friend. Is something on your mind?”
He gave her a slight nod, which neither answered her question nor confirmed
her statement, but she didn’t push him. Salome had always been a quiet,
reserved man, and when he spoke, others listened. Still, for all his shared
wisdom and benevolence, many demons tormented him, and Chris was one of the
few people he would confide in.
After taking a measured look ahead to make sure their escorts were out of
earshot, he said to her: “I told you once we all fight for our own reasons.
For some it is their family, and for others it is their love of Zexen. I
would like to believe that by defending our country, I am preserving the
lives of my wife and son. But lately, I don’t feel that I can justify
that. Call me selfish, Chris, but I was secretly hoping the Council would
let me resign.”
“That’s certainly not selfish. Many people are sick of the
war—and it wouldn’t surprise me at all to know those closest to
the frontlines are hurting the worst.” She sighed as she gave the horse
a little more rein. “I think the only people who aren’t tired of
this war are the Council.”
“And those profiting from it, of course.”
“Of course. It only adds to the feeling of being used as a pawn someone
else’s crazy game.”
“But that’s not the only thing troubling me, Chris.” He drew
a long breath before continuing, as the lines on his face pulled into a
frustrated grimace of concern. “Ardeth told me last night that we are
expecting another child. I want to be happy, but I wonder what will happen
to me. Will I even be there when it’s time? Will this poor child just
wind up resenting me like Jael does for never being around?”
Chris wanted to offer congratulations, but her stomach twisted with
Salome’s rationalization. Although he’d never admit it to her,
she knew Percival felt the same when she told him Geoffrey was coming. Unsure
of what to say, all she managed was: “I’m sure your son doesn’t
resent you at all.”
“He might not say it, but sometimes I can see it in his eyes.”
“Are you sure you’re reading his expression right? I can’t
imagine Jael feeling that way. He has such a good heart.”
“I’m sure of it, Chris. I’m sure that’s what he’s
thinking, because he looks at me with my own eyes.”
Only the sounds of the horses’ hooves were heard as Chris formed a suitable
response, and even then she wasn’t sure what comfort it would be to
Salome. “Years ago, Ryan asked me once why Percival is never home. I
didn’t lie to him. I told him the truth—that his father was protecting
us, and that required him to leave us from time to time. He understood that.
I’m sure Jael does, too. I’m sure he misses you terribly, and just
hates to see his mother lonely.”
“Perhaps, but I still feel that sometimes I am neglecting those that
are most important to me, even if I try to validate it with my own
rhetoric.”
Chris nodded to him in sympathy as Brass Castle came into view above the
trees. “I think we all do that, my friend. It goes with the territory
of this life—a life we chose.”
“Yes, but we choose it when we are too young and naïve to think
of long term consequences.”
“Are you saying you regret becoming a knight?” She tried to hide
the surprise at her question, but wasn’t very successful.
“No,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t regret it, but I
will admit that I was enchanted by the romance of it, as I’m sure you
were.”
She smiled, desperately trying to make light of the situation. “Of course.
What child doesn’t fantasize about putting on a suit of polished armor
and riding a fine horse into battle?”
Salome shook his head as his tone hardened and horse’s hooves clipped
on the cobblestones that led to the castle’s gate. “Sometimes I
wonder if the reason we wear polished armor is just so that it’s easier
to wash the blood off.”
Chris stood in front of the wooden door and raised her fist to knock. Ever
since the moment that Louis and Salome explained the Council’s instructions
for her, she knew exactly whom she would ask to be her escort. Yet standing
here in front of his quarters, she knew her request would be met with a battle,
and one that she was ill prepared for. Regardless, she had to leave the next
morning, so gaining his cooperation was vital.
Once her fist hit the door, it swung open; apparently it had not been latched
correctly. And there, in the room, in quite a stage of undress was none other
than the Swordsman of Rage himself. He froze as she stared at him in shock
for a moment, neither of them daring to laugh at the faux pas. Finally, she
quickly apologized and slammed the door shut.
A few moments later, he opened the door, now decent and smiled at her, the
blush on his cheeks still tingling.
“I’m sorry Borus,” she said before giving him a gentle tease.
“But you do know how to latch doors, don’t you?”
He didn’t give her more than a shrug of his shoulders as he ushered
her inside his quarters. The room looked just like Percival’s, but the
furniture was much more luxurious. Motioning to the sofa on the far side
of the room, he just simply said, “You’re back.”
Lowering herself onto the couch, she smiled at him. “I am, but I’m
not staying more than a night.”
He brushed his blonde hair out of his face as he took a seat next to her.
“Thank the Goddesses! You’ve decided to listen to
reason.”
“Pardon me?”
“You’re going home, right? You’re taking the children and
going back to Iksay,” he said in an uncharacteristic cheerful tone.
She met his dark eyes. “No, Borus. I’m not.”
His brow furrowed in worry. “Where did you leave them, Chris?”
“With Torrie. And Louis is helping, too.”
Borus closed his eyes tightly in frustration as a sigh slipped between his
lips. He wasn’t sure what to say, or even if there was any point in
it.
Chris raised an eyebrow at his disapproval. “You think I’m crazy,
don’t you? You think it was an easy decision, don’t
you!?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just find it unbelievable that
you’d abandon your children at a time like this! If it was because you
needed money--”
Chris’s eyes narrowed at her friend as the charge began. “I
didn’t abandon anyone, Borus. While I can’t afford to give expensive
gifts to small children, I can certainly scrape together enough money to
make sure they are well fed.”
He scoffed at her. “You left them with Torrie and Louis? A child and
a cripple? How protective can the two of them be? I’m sure you learned
that Torrie moved out of my parents’ home and now lives in one of the
slummiest areas of Zexay.”
Chris lashed out, and her tongue was sharper than her blade ever had been.
“You are so arrogant! At Torrie’s age I was commanding the Army,
and Louis is quite capable of taking care of himself. I find it despicable
that you would insult both of them!” She smirked at him, “Or would
you rather I have left them with you? A knight past his prime who drinks
himself to death on a nightly basis and wakes up next to whatever barmaid
he can convince to return to his room?”
His face contorted with many unpleasant responses but he swallowed all of
them, as a tense pause stretched through the room. She was right, and he
knew it, so all he offered was a defeated shake of his head and a somber
response. “You’ve made your point, but they still need their
mother.”
She jumped to her feet, a bit of guilt hitting her for continuing the battle
even as he waved the white flag. “How the hell would you know what they
need! How the hell do you know how hard it was for me to make this decision!
You’re not even a parent!”
Borus flinched as the last blow stung what was left of his ego, but he kept
his tone soft. “No, I’m not, and one day, if Loa wills it, I hope
to be one. But I do know that leaving those kids in a strange city while
you run off to prove something you don’t need to prove is stupid and
pointless.”
She sat back down next to him as she considered his words, knowing an apology
for her attack wasn’t necessary. Long moments of needed silence held
between them, and when she finally found the courage to say exactly what
she wanted, her voice faltered before she could finish the sentence.
“I’m not proving anything to anyone. I just…I
just…”
“You just what?” He asked gently.
“I just want Percival back,” she whispered, as she felt a knot
form in her throat.
Borus pulled her into a warm embrace and rubbed her back soothingly. He knew
she wouldn’t cry—not in front of him at least.
Without looking up from the comfort of his arms, she said, “Before you
say ‘he’s not coming back,’ then if that’s the case,
I want to know that so I can tell my children. I don’t want them living
the nightmare I went through with my father.”
“I guess I can understand that. They deserve to know the truth—we
all do.”
Chris nodded as she sat up and broke free of his grasp. “Yes. We all
do. Even if it’s not what we want to hear. Still, I’m sure he’s
alive. Don’t ask me how I know. I can just tell.”
He took her hands and squeezed them as he gave her a smile. “I have
that feeling, too.”
“Will you go with me, then?”
“Go where?”
She glanced down at the floor. “The Council has charged me with finding
Lilly Pendragon and questioning her about the so-called Tinto
Army.”
Borus laughed, “Sounds like a wild goose chase.”
“It is. The Council just wants me out of their hair, I’m sure.
Will you come? I’m leaving tomorrow morning for Karaya. Lilly was last
seen there.”
“I don’t know how welcome either of us will be in that place,”
he muttered.
She touched his arm gently. “Neither do I, but it’s time for us
to atone for our sins, Borus. Perhaps this is just a test that Loa wishes
us to pass together.”
“Maybe, but Chris…even if I wanted to go with you, I
can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t? Salome said I could take anyone I
wanted, and I chose you.”
He rubbed his forehead in tormented deliberation before giving her an answer.
“It’s not that. I’m sure my duties will be covered. I just
don’t think you understand the position I’m in.”
“What are you talking about?”
He looked away from her and out into the distance. “I promised Percival
that I’d never let you do something like this, and now not only am I
failing to stop you, you’re asking for my help.”
She gave him a tiny smile. “Yes, but you also promised me once that
you’d always fight by my side as well, Borus.”
“I know, and that complicates matters even more,” he said as he
met her eyes.
Holding his gaze, she said calmly, “But I’m here and he’s
not.”