My Royal Pain Quest (The Lakeland Knight series, #2)

by Laura Lond

  He showed the fangs again, but it was an empty threat.

  “I… will… follow…” he rumbled. “And… watch…”

  “I know you will. Now, leave.”

  Gathering all my courage, I took a step to him, stomping my foot. The monster quickly backed away. His eyes flashed with anger, but anger wasn’t the only thing I saw. I also saw fear.

  He roared again and disappeared in the reeds.

  I released Kellemar’s arm. The prince still looked ashen, but at least he stood firm on his feet.

  “Let’s go,” I said. “The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

  He drew in a shaky breath. “You are doing this for some wicked purpose of yours. Don’t expect any thankyous from me.”

  “Whatever his purpose, Lord Arkus has just saved your life!” Cassandra exclaimed.

  We both looked at her. Archie’s face was alight with indignation.

  Kellemar’s jaw tightened. “Will this slave lecture me? Put him in his place, Arkus, or I will!”

  I turned to him. “You will do nothing. In case I didn’t make myself clear the last time, let me give another warning. One more insult or threat to Archibald, and I will not be so civil as I have been so far.”

  “So he gets to do or say whatever he wants and I must put up with it?!”

  “Precisely.”

  The proper atmosphere thus restored, we continued on our way. Once again we were walking in silence, carefully checking the surroundings. I knew we wouldn’t have to worry about the beast for a while; he would now wait for a chance to catch us apart. Pergalacks, on the other hand, were something to watch out for. Morgard could have given up on waiting for Kellemar and called off the watchmen who, I assumed, were assigned to look for him. In that case, we were likely to run into trouble. Pergalacks were not known for kindness to strangers.

  The mist seemed to thicken. I noticed a smoky smell in the air, faint and somehow sweet.

  “You smell that, Archie?” I asked.

  “Someone’s got a fire going,” Cassandra confirmed. “Probably cooking.”

  The prospect of bumping into Pergalacks cooking their meal wasn’t exactly pleasant, but what choice did we have. We kept going. The smell, unlike anything I could recall, was getting stronger, and soon we saw its source: a stream of reddish smoke was rising from remnants of a large campfire ahead of us. It appeared abandoned; only a few flames danced in the glowing coals. The color of the smoke, more intensely red where it started, made me wonder.

  “What would give off a smoke like that?” I muttered.

  “I don’t like it,” Cassandra said. “I think it’s pink berry time.”

  “You might be right. At any rate, it wouldn’t hurt.”

  We reached for the berries and placed them in our mouths. I took out another pair and handed it to Kellemar.

  “Eat this.”

  He regarded me with a mixture of suspicion and contempt.

  “What sort of a ridiculous request is this?”

  I knew this one would not go over easy.

  “This is protection from possible danger,” I explained, trying to be patient.

  “First of all, I see no danger, and secondly, like I said before, I will accept nothing from you. Especially when the idea belongs to your impertinent servant.”

  I wanted to strangle him.

  “Kellemar, don’t be an idiot. Not now. This smoke can be harmful. You see the berries aren’t poisonous, I’ve just eaten some myself.”

  “You are free to do whatever superstitious things you want. I refuse.”

  I considered forcing the berries into his mouth, but if he wouldn’t chew and swallow, there was no point.

  “Fine. Don’t blame me later.”

  We approached the fire. There were no signs of someone camping or cooking or doing anything at all. More reason to think the sole purpose was just to produce the mysterious smoke.

  “Strange. All right, let’s not waste any more time here.”

  We kept walking and soon came across another dying fire, just like the first one. We passed it, giving it only a brief examination. Shortly after that the prince stumbled.

  I looked at him. “Kellemar? Is something wrong?”

  He wouldn’t answer. And his eyes were getting clouded.

  “Kellemar!” I grabbed the berries again. “Eat this—we’ll fight about it later!”

  Too late. He swayed to the right and collapsed.

  “Darn it!”

  Cassandra and I threw down our bags and rushed to the prince. I placed my hand on his neck, checking for pulse.

  “He’s alive. Stay alert,” I said to Cassandra, “watch the surroundings.”

  I turned the prince over to his back. His eyes were closed now; he appeared unconscious.

  “Can you hear me?” I shook him by the shoulder. “Kellemar!”

  No response. Cassandra handed me a flask with water, I sprinkled some on his face. It did no good.

  Great. Now what?

  Thankfully, we weren’t being attacked. Whoever had started these fires wasn’t hiding in ambush, waiting for their prey to fall.

  “What are we going to do?” Cassandra asked.

  “I’ll have to carry him.”

  “Do you think this Morgard will know what it is and how to help?”

  “He might. If his men did it, he should.”

  I rose, reckoning how to better get a hold of the prince.

  “Give me the bags,” Cassandra said. “Yours and his.”

  I handed them to her. “Will you manage?”

  “I will, no problem.” She looked at the prince again. “Take off his breastplate and shoulder plates, too. I’ll see if I can stuff them in here. There seems to be some room.”

  I did that as well. As I removed the breastplate, I saw an outline of some flat object in the inner pocket of Kellemar’s vest.

  “A dagger?” Cassandra asked. “Give it here, too, let’s make him as light as possible.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to help much,” I said, nevertheless reaching for the item.

  It wasn’t a dagger; it was a dark leather case, rectangular in shape. I opened it.

  Inside lay a mirror shard, old and darkened.

  “Well, what do you know.”

  “What is it?”

  I turned the opened case to Cassandra so that she could see. She knelt next to me. I carefully took the shard out and turned it over. Somehow we weren’t very surprised to see the twirling red pattern on the back side.

  “Another piece of the same mirror,” Cassandra said.

  Just to make sure, we pulled out our own shard and compared the two. The shapes were different, and Kellemar’s shard was larger than ours, but the ornament on the back looked identical.

  “I bet this is what he is carrying to Morgard.”

  Cassandra examined the pieces again. “Most likely. I wish we knew the significance of these things.”

  “Well, I suppose we will soon find out. For now, I’m putting this one back into his pocket. If he wakes up and finds we took it, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

  Cassandra snickered. “He’d be convinced you designed this whole thing, including the smoke, to steal it.”

  “You’ve gotten to know him pretty well.” I closed the case and returned it into Kellemar’s vest pocket. “I suggest we keep our mouths shut about the one we’ve got.”

  “Agreed.”

  ***

  Chapter 11

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  I carried Kellemar in my arms until they were about to fall off.

  “Let’s stop for a moment, I’ll move him onto my back.”

  We did; Cassandra helped, supporting the prince’s limp form that kept sliding down. At last I managed to find the right position and get a good grip on his arms I had over my shoulders.

  “All right, we can go. If he wakes up and bites me in the neck, I’ll kill him.”

  “You can’t,” Cassandra teas
ed. “Not yet, anyway. You promised to bring him safely back.”

  “A man can dream, can’t he?”

  We pressed on. It seemed easier at first, with the weight mostly on my shoulders, but not for long.

  “I think I’ll charge Morgard for delivery.”

  Cassandra nodded. “I would.”

  We passed two more fires with the red smoke, then the air seemed to clear. All that time we’d been eating pink and white berries every ten minutes, thanking the Swirgs.

  “Shall we take a break?” Cassandra asked. “I’m hungry. I bet you are, too.”

  “Yes, let’s do that.”

  I knelt and lowered Kellemar onto the ground. Cassandra dropped the bags.

  “I don’t know how someone managed to start those fires in such dampness and whether I’ll be able to do the same, but I’ll try,” she said, taking out supplies.

  “Don’t worry about it, get some rest. We have food that doesn’t need cooking.”

  She was glad to comply. We found some rocks to sit on and snacked on dried beef and bread. The bread was a couple of days old by now but still not too hard.

  “Where are those Pergalacks?” Cassandra wondered.

  “I am rather surprised myself that we haven’t yet come across them,” I answered. “From what I know, they prowl all over the valley. It doesn’t matter though, I think Morgard’s castle is not very far.”

  “Hey, I know! Our monster must have scared them away.”

  “That could be. I would prefer to call him ‘Kellemar’s monster’ though.”

  “Look, he’s waking up.”

  “Is he?” I turned to see. The prince was stirring. “Good, it’s about time.”

  Kellemar propped himself up on his elbow and looked around. His eyes stopped on me. He had the strangest expression in those eyes.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  He kept looking at me, as if trying to figure something out.

  “Who are you?” he asked at last.

  I glanced at Cassandra. Just what we need. Was he now messed up in the head? That is, more than usual?

  “Don’t you know me? I’m Arkus, your best friend.”

  “I, uh…” He brought a hand to his forehead. “I’m sorry, Arkus, but I’m afraid I can’t remember you… I can’t remember anything. What happened? What is this place?”

  “Well… Where do I start? This place is called the Tenebrous Valley. Remember anything about that?”

  He shook his head.

  Lovely.

  “We’ve been walking to meet with a man called Morgard,” I went on. “There was obviously a trap on the way, this strange smoke we had breathed that knocked you unconscious because you refused to be protected. And now it appears you have lost your memory.”

  “I refused to be protected from danger? That’s rather unwise…”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Let’s just say you can be a little stubborn.”

  Kellemar sat up and rubbed his forehead again.

  “Who laid that trap?” he asked.

  “We don’t know that. We haven’t encountered anyone yet.”

  “How strange…”

  He spent another moment thinking. His eyes turned to Cassandra.

  “I’m Archibald,” she said. “You don’t remember me either?”

  The prince shook his head again. “No. Are you another friend?”

  Now she certainly didn’t have to worry about him recognizing her.

  “Archie is my manservant,” I offered.

  “Manservant? Are you a nobleman?”

  “A lord, yes.” It dawned on me that he might have forgotten his own station as well. “And you are a prince. I hope you remember at least that?”

  He didn’t, judging by his stunned expression.

  “A prince?”

  “Darn, now I wish I hadn’t told you. I could have said you were a servant and made you carry all the bags.”

  Cassandra snorted, and Kellemar actually laughed.

  “You’re funny, Arkus.”

  “I can be sometimes. Look, it seems like we’ve got a lot to cover. I suggest we get going, and I’ll fill you in on the way—unless you want to have a quick snack before that. We were just finishing ours.”

  “Yes, now that you’ve mentioned it, I’m rather hungry.”

  “Here’s your bag.” Cassandra picked it up and handed to him. “You have some food there.”

  He reached for the bag and winced. “Ouch. For some reason my arms and shoulders are hurting.”

  “That’s because you’ve been hanging down my back for the last several hours,” I said.

  “You’ve been carrying me?”

  “Had to.”

  “Why, I’m sorry for such an inconvenience… And thank you.”

  Cassandra and I exchanged looks. He was certainly much nicer with his memory gone.

  Kellemar opened the bag and took out several wrapped items.

  “Let’s see what I’ve got here. Archibald, would you unwrap this one? And if it’s anything you like, help yourself. You too, Arkus.”

  This time we both stared at him.

  “Are you sure?”

  He gave me a surprised glance. “Of course. Why would I not share with friends? It looks like I have plenty.”

  What he had was a chunk of ham, cheese, boiled potatoes and eggs. He insisted that we took some of each, and we did, after considerable hesitation. He wasn’t going to be too happy about it when his memory returned.

  “You say I am a prince. Of what land?” Kellemar asked, chewing on a ham sandwich.

  “Dalvanna. You are Kellemar, son of King Ramian.”

  He sighed. “This is so unsettling. None of it even sounds familiar.”

  “It’s probably temporary. Give it time, things will come back to you.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  Indeed. I didn’t want to get accused of doing this to him and end up with a war on my hands. Annoying Ramian was always fun, but war required some preparation, and I had no time for that at the moment.

  “So why are we going to this man—Morgard, you said?” the prince kept questioning. “Who is he?”

  “He is in charge of a tribe called Pergalacks. Your father has sent you to deliver something important to him.”

  “What exactly?”

  “You never told me.”

  “I haven’t told my best friend?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose it’s top secret. I don’t mind.”

  Kellemar looked puzzled. “But there was nothing except food in my bag. Do I have another one?”

  “No.”

  “Oh my.” His eyes widened. “I hope I haven’t lost it!”

  “I don’t think so. Perhaps it’s on your person.”

  He started searching his pockets. It didn’t take him long to get to the inner one in his vest.

  “Aha! That must be it!” The prince pulled out the leather case, opened it, and stared at its contents. “Well, what on earth… Do you know what this is?” he asked, showing me the mirror shard.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “How frustrating.” Kellemar bit his lip, frowning. “This sounds like some very important mission, and I’m about to ruin it because I have no knowledge of anything! This is the worst thing that could have possibly happened to me.”

  And I haven’t even told him about the beast yet.

  “Trust me: it isn’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just… don’t worry about things you can’t help. Let’s focus on the task at hand.”

  “But what am I going to say to Morgard?”

  “Let me do the talking.”

  “Thank you, Arkus. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  I had an idea or two regarding that, but chose to keep them to myself.

  We packed up the leftover food and continued on our way. Morgard’s castle turned out to be close, just like I had thought; it
showed up after about a half hour walk. The chieftain always referred to it as a castle, but I would rather describe it as a sprawling structure of stone and wood. It was neither nice looking nor particularly well built; apparently the Pergalacks’ talents lie outside construction. I instantly questioned the wisdom of combining wood and stonework; not only the wooden parts would weaken the building as a whole, they were practically an invitation to use a torch on. At least that’s what I would have done if I wanted to invade the place.

  The castle stood on the river, using it as a natural defense of its northern side; the rest was surrounded by a wall. At least the wall was all stone.

  “This does not strike me as a grand place,” Kellemar commented. “Or a welcoming one.”

  If only he knew.

  “It’s not,” I answered. “Morgard isn’t exactly a socialite.”

  “Do you know him well?”

  “We’ve met.”

  The guards at the gate saw us. They were tall, grim-faced barbarians wearing crudely made clothes, mostly of animal skins, with some metal embellishments. They looked rather amazed at the sight of us.

  “Whoa!” one exclaimed, offering no civilized greeting. “Who are you and how did you get past the smoke screen?”

  “Ah, so you’re responsible for all that perfume,” I replied, eliciting a chuckle from both Cassandra and Kellemar. “Go tell your master that Lord Arkus of Blackriver Castle and Prince Kellemar of Dalvanna wish to see him.”

  I could just about imagine what kind of a reaction such an announcement would bring. By now pretty much everyone in the Villains League knew how Kellemar and I felt about each other.

  Noticing signs of a considerable mental effort on the guard’s face, I tried to make the task easier.

  “All right, if that’s too much to remember, just say Lord Arkus and Prince Kellemar.”

  He nodded and went inside. We didn’t have to wait long. In a matter of minutes not only the guard but also Morgard himself strode back out, the latter with the expression of impatient curiosity on his angular, hawkish face. He wore fabric clothes, mismatched and not very well fitting, which gave a good indication of where they had come from. Unlike his shaggy warriors, Morgard had his head cleanly shaved. Overall, he was somewhat refined, for a barbarian, but a barbarian still.

  “Lord Arkus!” he roared, loud as always, grinning from ear to ear. “And this—is this truly Prince Kellemar?”