Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  He held the bandage over his shoulder and allowed himself to breath. The pain was bearable now, not good, but not as bad as it was. The dizziness was subsiding, and without the distraction of Adley, Kull began to focus on his father again and his mother’s request to find him. Why had the Grogans taken him? Why would they risk war for the capture of one man? What had Grift done to possibly deserve this?

  He lay there as the questions swirled in his mind, listening to the hundreds of injured citizens moan in a chorus of misery. Why would they do this to us?

  “Hold him down!” a voice shrieked. It was Eva Dellinger, and she was directing several large men to hold Arthur Ewing.

  “Arthur, we have no choice. If we don’t remove this leg, you’ll be dead in a week.”

  “By the gods, woman, let me go!” Ewing was throwing his body against the men holding his arms and legs down. One of the men lost his grip, and Ewing swung, shattering his giant fist against the medic’s jaw. A grueling crack filled the air. “You devils be cursed if I’ll let you do this to me!” An unrelenting torrent of curses, spittle, and threats spewed from Ewing’s mouth as the party of medical orderlies tried desperately to restrain him. Silent as a shadow, a tall man moved into the tent, his face masked and his hands gloved. His presence felt like a dark specter. He held a large, long blade.

  Oh no.

  “NO! Please don’t…I’ll be okay…soon enough!” Ewing screamed, whimpering as his eyes followed the blade moving across the room.

  It was over in an instant. With one swift and controlled stroke of the doctor’s surgical blade, Ewing’s black infected leg was lobbed off. Kull stared and shuttered as the orderlies bound his bleeding stump with a tourniquet and quickly began wrapping it with sterile gauze. To Kull it felt like a terrible dream, a dream that he wished he could wake up from. Ewing was quiet and went white as a sheet. His eyes lost focus. He sat motionless for minutes with his mouth hanging open, slowly muttering and humming one of his favorite drinking songs.

  “Serubs and morels, got in some quarrels, and now they get the best of me.”

  He let out a childlike laugh and looked over at Kull in a fog of shock as a stupid grin wrapped itself around his face. Too gleeful, he whispered, “It’s alright, boy. I’m alright.” he passed out headlong into his cot.

  Eva, who stood by him the entire time, laid her hand on him and put a damp cloth across his neck. Ewing broke out into a cold sweat and was shivering violently. She looked over at Kull as she wiped away the sweat from Ewing. She waved over a medic to hook a bag of blood to Ewing as he slept.

  “Kull, can you look after him? I have more injured to care for. He just needs a watchful eye for a few hours. Can you yell if you see he’s not doing well?”

  Under normal circumstances it would be laughable that she would put Ewing under his care in his condition. Kull nodded, still holding the gauze up on his tender shoulder. “Go on, Eva. I will watch him. I won’t let him go anywhere.” Not that he can go anywhere.

  Kull lay in his cot staring at Ewing who continued to shiver. The old man was a pitiful sight, and Kull felt a potent mixture of fear and sadness swirl inside his chest. Despite all the frustration and annoyance Arthur Ewing had caused him in his life, the man was like a grandfather. Ewing served in the King’s Guard along with his father and had been his mentor as he climbed the ranks. When he retired, he settled in Cotswold and having no other family, he formed an unlikely one with the Shepherds.

  Kull propped himself up, swung his legs out of his cot and gathered up his thin blanket to cover Ewing.

  “Let me get that for you,” Adley said, returning with a handful of gauze and medical tape. “I will cover him up. You need to lie down, Kull. Ewing will be fine. He’s just cold from blood loss, but he will be okay. He’s taking his blood bag well. It will make a world of difference. I will take care of the two of you myself.”

  “Well then I know we are in good hands.” In his mind, Kull chastised himself for the stupid nonsense overflowing out his mouth. Gods above, Shepherd, get it together. Shut up.

  Adley smiled, took the covers from Kull, and laid them over Ewing, tucking them in around his large frame. His shivering diminished as time passed, and Kull was finally able to quit staring at him, for fear that he would die there in that old military cot.

  Adley chastised him, “Kull, please. You need to lie down. I promise he will be okay. Besides, I need to get your wound dressed. Now lie down and let me patch you up. We are safe now.”

  Kull obeyed as Adley meticulously wrapped his shoulder and packed the wound. As she worked, Kull noticed how much she had grown up since he had last seen her. Time had changed her. All of the past day’s events spun in his head like a surreal dream, the nightmare of losing his father and his hometown mixed with the strange elation to be reunited with Adley. All of it made everything even more farfetched and unreal. He was silent as he watched her work.

  Adley was the first to speak, “Kull, you said the Grogans were after your father. Why?”

  Kull coughed, clearing his throat. “I wish I knew. All I know is what I saw. They killed everyone else, but then they took him.”

  Adley said nothing, but her face filled with worry.

  He sat up as she finished dressing the wound. “I’m going after them. I’ve already wasted too much time.”

  There was a pause. Adley tightened the wrapping with a harsh jerk, making Kull wince.

  Her tone was serious and filled with warning. “You know you can’t do that. They have stopped all travel across the Realm except for the military and the emergency response teams. The guards won’t let you leave Cotswold, much less Lotte.”

  Kull locked eyes with her. Her face was stern as she stared back, unflinching.

  His voice went grave. “Adley. What choice do I have? Dad would do the same for me. I can’t just sit around here while he rots in a Grogan prison. I’ve got to get up and go while his trail is fresh.”

  Adley fired back at him. “Who will watch Rose, Kull? Or did you even think of that?”

  Kull’s hand fell on Adley’s. “Mom asked me to go. I would never leave her otherwise.”

  Adley’s face was a mixture of worry and pride, and yet somehow it still bore the kind glow that always stayed with her.

  “You’re as stubborn as I remember, Kull Shepherd. I know better than to try to persuade you to stay...” Her sentence fell away, as if there was something else she wished to say.

  She reached out and placed her hand on Kull’s cheek. Her hand was warm, and her soft skin was smooth against Kull’s dirty jaw.

  “Just don’t get yourself killed, okay? There are some things that even nurses can’t fix.”

  Kull’s determination relaxed and he laughed. “I will. I promise. It was good to see you again.”

  “Good to see you too.”

  They paused and looked at each other for an awkward moment. Then, as if someone was timing their chance encounter, they quickly embraced each other as they parted ways.

  Adley released him and turned away from the stunned young man. All Kull wanted was to stay in her embrace for a few moments longer. He shot a glance back at Ewing who was now alert, staring at him with weak eyes.

  “Looks like it’s you and me again, kid. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” Ewing slowly sat up on his cot and smiled.

  “Bold words for someone who just lost their leg.”

  Ewing looked down at the voided limb and began to laugh.

  “What...a...day. I can’t say that I saw this one in the cards. Well, I didn’t much like that ol’ leg anyway. Now I can get me one of those new additions those tech-boys have been crafting for the veterans...I’m gonna get me a shiny one.” A wicked smile flew across the old man’s face.

  Kull smiled at Ewing in utter amazement as the old goat brushed off the nightmare he had just been through. Back to his old ways, he was shoveling large wads of brown tobacco out of his pouch and loading it into his pipe.

  “You know that’s g
oing to kill you one day, right?” Kull said playfully.

  Clenching the pipe in his mouth, Ewing stared back at Kull with wide eyes. “Seems like I’m doing a much better job of that myself, boy!” Ewing lit a match and his pipe in one grand sweeping motion that looked and felt like a magic trick. Kull hadn’t noticed before, but Ewing always seemed to have a certain flair about him, a quality that took the normal everydayness of life and made it oddly significant. The old man stared at Kull through the smoke enveloping his head and took three long draws, savoring each one.

  “Thank you Aleph above...that is good.” Ewing shut his eyes as smoke floated around his head and the smell of the tobacco permeated throughout the tent. Another young man with a bandage around his head was lying in the cot next to Ewing. His eyes flew open and his nose crinkled as the smoke wafted over onto him, and he lurched as a shower of vomit fell in the space between the cots. Ewing opened his eyes and patted him on the back as he retched again.

  “There, there, my man. There, there!”

  Turning to Kull, Ewing continued, “You need not worry about me and my bad habits.” Kull looked at Ewing’s stump of a leg, smirked, and shook his head in disbelief. The memory of his mother’s voice goaded him. “You have to go after him, Kull. You have to go after your father.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about, Arthur. It’s dad.”

  Ewing’s face grimaced with a knowing look.

  “I know, boy. I know. But if anyone can make it out of the Grogans’ hands it would be Grift. He’s more cunning than about anyone I know. The Grogans really don’t realize what danger they are in.”

  “Danger?”

  “That’s right, lad. Danger.” Ewing took another draw from his pipe. “Your father is a very skilled man of war. Being captain of the Lottian guard is not a post doled out for ceremony. Grift is a warrior, and what he lacks in strength, he makes up in strategy. The Grogans like to strong-arm the other Realms into submission, but the reason our Realm has stayed free from their interference for these past forty years is because of men like Grift.” Ewing puffed at his pipe again, his eyes grave. “Yes…taking Grift, even as a prisoner, is a risky move on the Grogans’ part, whether they realize it or not.”

  “So you don’t think they are going to kill him?” All he knew about his father’s position was that he commanded a small band of soldiers patrolling the border. Yet to hear Ewing talk, it put his father in a whole new light.

  “No, lad. They’ll torture him, for sure, but if they intended to kill him they would have done that on the battlefield. They’ve got Grift held prisoner either to use him as a hostage or to interrogate him. Why, with King Camden laid to rest your father is one of the most valuable assets they can possess.” Ewing’s voice trailed off and he ran his hands through his thinning hair. Something flickered across Ewing’s face that made a chill run down Kull’s spine.

  “What is it, Arthur?”

  “Nothing lad…nothing.”

  Kull’s eyes trailed off beyond the recovery tent doors and out over the smoldering hills of what was once Cotswold. Anger rekindled in him, and an uncompromising grit. His father was not dead, and there was still time, but he would have to hurry. Kull was now sure of what he had to do.

  “I have to go and find him, Ewing.” The broken voice of his mother pierced his mind. ‘He is more important than me.’ Kull continued, “If they’re not going to kill him, then I have to go now. I have to get to him. If they had taken me, Dad would have already left Lotte by now.” As he spoke, the realization that he would have to say goodbye to his mother washed over him, and his mind filled with dread.

  Ewing read Kull’s face and frowned for a moment, lost in his thoughts. He spoke, “Help me up, Kull. Let’s go see her. You need to if you’re setting off to go. Plus, I don’t think my neighbor appreciates my pipe.”

  “But your leg!”

  “Ah, my leg nothing. Now, help me up and grab me some crutches.”

  Kull slowly led Ewing out of the medical tent. Ewing teetered on his ill-fitted crutches and cursed under his breath with each step as Kull directed him through the obstacles of patients, doctors, and nurses standing in his way. Somehow, the two made their way to the outlying tent where Kull’s mother would be. Ewing tossed his crutches to the side and flopped onto the damp ground.

  “This is far enough for me, son. I’ll be out here. Go and see her.” He panted, catching his breath. Ewing leaned back on his elbows, his portly belly rising and falling with each breath. After resting a little while, he grabbed Kull’s arm and drew him in. “But I still have words for you. Don’t run off. Do you understand?” Despite all that happened to him, the old man’s grip was still strong. Kull nodded and went inside the tent.

  A young orderly greeted Kull as he slipped inside. “Evening.”

  “I’m looking for Rose Shepherd.”

  “Ah…Ms. Shepherd.” The orderly led him down the rows of wounded, and he saw her. Even at a distance Kull could see that the coherent mother he left in the forest was gone. Her hollow eyes were full of shadows.

  The orderly reported the obvious. “She isn’t doing too much responding. Unfortunately, I am afraid the shock of the battle put her into a bit of a stupor.” Kull nodded, not bothering to correct him. “She is stable, however.”

  The orderly excused himself as Kull’s heart drowned in disappointment. Her frail frame was slumped over in a chair as her chest puffed out shallow breaths. She was the shell of the person Kull had become accustomed to over the past few years. Before entering the tent, Kull had been set on going after his dad. He was not so sure now.

  “Hey, Mom. It’s me.”

  Rose sat quietly in the chair with her glazed eyes staring into the dirt floor. Kull picked up a damp cloth and wiped it at her brow.

  He whispered, “Mom. I’m here. Can you hear me?”

  A spark ignited in her eyes at his voice. Rose’s frail hand groped for him, sliding weakly across Kull’s cheek. Kull cringed as she struggled to speak. Her eyes began to roll back slowly as she fought to maintain her gaze. With her free hand, she lifted a necklace from her neck and forced it into Kull’s hand. He recoiled from the pendant.

  “You cannot give this to me.” Kull shook his head, wide-eyed, and put the pendant back in his mother’s hands. It was a simple circle, bearing the mark of Aleph.

  The pendant was given to Rose by a visiting monk after she became very ill when Kull was just a young boy. For months, Grift sought help from doctors across Lotte, but every physician he employed insisted that there was nothing medically that could be done for her condition. That had been a terrible time for the family, and Kull could remember encountering the hard, cold face of his father as he battled a war that he could not win. One night, Kull lay in bed awake, listening to his parents’ hushed conversations through the walls.

  “Grift, please call for him. He will come and bless our house, and perhaps Aleph will show me mercy.”

  The gruff voice of his father penetrated through the wall, causing Kull to lie absolutely still.

  “I know he will come, Rose. I know that, and I would welcome him here. It’s not that…It’s just that why in Aleph’s name is this happening? If the god we serve is so powerful and wise, why would he allow this to happen to you?” There was a pause, and Kull leaned his ear to the wall straining to hear. “You, of all people, don’t deserve this.”

  Kull heard his mother’s coughs rip through the night. “His plans are not our own, Grift. I am in his hands. You know this.”

  Kull heard the sound of furniture flying, and then something he never heard before. His father was weeping. Kull pulled the quilt around him tightly, straining to make out Grift’s reply. “You have enough faith for the both of us, it seems.”

  “And you have more faith than you realize, Grift Shepherd.”

  The next week a tall, young, dark-skinned monk traveled to Cotswold. Kull had vivid memories of the monk praying over his mother, and then his father, and ending at last
by praying over him. Before he left, he gave Rose the pendant and for many years her disease subsided, until it came again during Kull’s twelfth year, stronger than ever. Despite this, Kull always knew that his father held a reverence for the pendant, and he continually asked her to wear it when the sickness’s grip grew stronger.

  Rose’s lips silently bounced open and shut, but from the look in her eyes, Kull knew she had something to say.

  Kull leaned his ear next to her lips and heard her speak. With all the force she could muster, she pressed the pendant into Kull’s palm and said, “Find…Grift…love.”

  Kull fought back stinging tears as he kissed his mother’s cheek. Even now she thinks of him. Kull stood up mesmerized before kneeling back down to try and meet his mother’s eyes one more time. “I love you too, Mom. I know you want me to go. I’ll make sure you are taken care of. Fight for me. I will be back. Okay?”

  The spark that flared up earlier left and her empty gaze returned. Kull wiped his eyes and looked down at the pendant she had put into his hand. Kull draped the small gold chain around his neck and stepped outside the tent. Ewing had remained at his post.

  “You say goodbye?”

  Kull nodded.

  Ewing took a long draw of his pipe. “Don’t worry, Kull. She is in good hands. I’ll make sure that Eva will watch over her. She’ll keep her up.”

  Kull nodded, but said nothing. Ewing, not one for silence, filled the void with his scheme.

  “I overheard you talking to that pretty little nurse, Kull. And I also heard what Rose asked you to do, Aleph bless her. Seeing as you are still carrying around your father’s old rifle like a fool, I have a feeling that you are serious about going after the Grogans.”

  Kull looked out over the plain toward the south. Toward the Groganlands. “You can’t stop me, Ewing.”