The gray bleak plain stretched unending in all directions.
“There,” said Sir Liam Mastere, his voice dry from thirst. “We can stop here.”
The old Knight staggered towards a ring of eroded boulders. The straps of his harness dug into his shoulders with every step, his swords thumping against his legs. He staggered into the ring and lifted the toddler from the harness.
Liam looked at the child. “You’re too young for these rigors.”
Lithon Scepteris, King of Carlisan, burbled something incoherent.
Liam sat with a groan, his joints aching. “And I’m too tired. And too damned old.” He set the child down. Lithon stared at him for a moment, then started walking away from the ring.
Liam laughed. “Determined, aren’t you?” He caught the boy as he tried to wander away and set him against a rock. This time, the King stayed put
Liam slid off his pack and unhooked the waterskin from his belt. He dug through their meager food. “Three days worth.” He thought they could make it to the Tower of Endless Worlds in another day, but how long would it take to travel through the Tower to Earth?
He didn’t know. “A bitter irony. To have made it his far, yet to die of thirst and hunger on the Crimson Plain.” He looked over the bleak grayness that surrounded him. “It doesn’t look very crimson.”
Liam pulled a piece of jerky from his pack and began to slice it up. Lithon burbled something, a recognizable word or two in the babble, and grabbed Liam’s arm. Liam smiled and poured a bit of their water into the child’s mouth. He fed and watered Lithon, and then wrapped the King in a blanket.
“Sleep,” Liam whispered to his king. He leaned against the boulder and ate his meager supper.
He watched as the gray clouds dimmed with the sunset. For a brief time the sun’s dying rays burned the clouds, bathing the dead plain in a bloody crimson glow. Perhaps the plain drew its name from the grim beauty of its sunsets.
Liam stood, drew his swords, and plunged them into the earth. The steel of his Sacred Blades flashed. Things wandered the Crimson Plain after dark, things that had slipped through the Tower from other worlds. Liam had seen strange footprints in the earth, had felt hostile eyes. He hoped the power in his Sacred Blades would keep any dangers at bay.
Liam sat back against his boulder and closed his eyes. He would rest only for a moment. He couldn’t risk sleep. The life of Lithon Scepteris, King of Carlisan and the last of hope of the world, rested in his hands.
But the trials of the last year had drained Liam. He fell asleep within minutes.
###
The Tower of Endless Worlds Page 30
