The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal)

by Beam, Brian

  “Simply a test to see if I was right about you,” she explained. “All of the others had to prove themselves, and you’re no different. We don’t need to waste our time on dead weight.”

  I shut my eyes tightly to rid my view of Kait’s self-satisfied face, tears still dripping down my cheeks. “Why did you save me then?” I asked. “That arrow was meant for me, and you stopped it.”

  “Two reasons,” she began, rising to her feet. “Follow me now.”

  My body responded to her command. If not for the rock in my chest, I wouldn’t have been able to muster the strength to rise on my own.

  “First,” she began as we headed towards where I’d fought the brigands, “I owed you a little assistance after giving you the ellifil. With your body being so unused to it, you experienced a much more severe crash when the effects wore off. Since you still did so well after the crash, I decided you’d earned some help.”

  Her casual, almost pleased, tone tore at me. At least two men were dead. She’d killed both of them and didn’t seem affected in the least. “And the second?” I prodded as we approached the brigands lying on the forest floor. The one with the mangled face was staggering to his feet. Backstabber was breathing, allaying my fear that I’d killed him.

  Kait’ looked to me, extending her arm to offer me the hilt of a dagger. “I want you to kill these four men right now. Start with that one.” She pointed towards the brigand getting to his feet.

  My mind exploded into panic, my heart started crashing against my ribs, and I gasped as if taking the last breath I’d ever take. I fought the command as hard as I could, but still my hand reached out and grasped the cold metal hilt of the proffered dagger. I opened my mouth to protest, but Kait’ waved an admonitory finger.

  “Don’t speak until you’re finished,” she ordered with a smirk.

  With the dagger in hand, I turned to the brigand with the ruined face who’d finally stood, wavering on his feet.

  “Korin, stop,” Kait’ called from behind me. My legs locked and I turned, hoping that Kait’ was going to tell me that her order had only been a sick joke, but instead, her lips curved upwards, her eyes narrowing menacingly. “Make their deaths slow and painful. Make sure they suffer.”

  My throat clenched and my eyes closed as if doing so would protect me from the pain. I can’t even begin to explain the torrent of tempestuous emotions that inundated my entire being. Revulsion, anger, panic, fear, sadness, regret, and self-loathing merely topped the mountain. When my eyelids parted, it was if I were looking through someone else’s eyes. The eyes of a killer.

  Tears still dripping from my eyes, I started for the unsteady brigand who had regained his feet. He heard me coming and turned, noticing the bared dagger in my shaking fist. Weaponless and alone, he tried to flee. I was faster. In short order, the man was on the ground, the tendons behind his right knee sliced though with the razor-sharp blade that Kait’ had given me. I killed him slowly, making sure he suffered before he finally died. If his terrified screams and frantic pleas for mercy were any indicator, Kait’s orders had been fulfilled.

  My mind has since blocked out most of the next hour of that day. The next thing I remember is being down on my knees, sobbing while Kait’ smiled down at me.

  My hands and sleeves were covered in sticky, wet blood, and my entire body trembled. My mind repeatedly replayed the vicious murdering of the four brigands. The unconscious ones had been woken by my dagger. They’d been so helpless. They hadn’t been a threat to us. They’d all begged for their lives. And still I’d killed them.

  I may have been able to block out the details of the killings, but I’ll never forget the looks on their faces or the sounds of their screams. Never.

  I kept thinking about Kait’s story, about how she’d described the day that her soul had died. I couldn’t help but think that I, too, had experienced the death of my soul

  Looking up at Kait’, wracking with sobs and trembling, I was able to loose one coherent word from my lips. “Why?”

  Kait’ crouched down beside me, her smile dropping, replaced by anger. Actually, make that seething hatred. “Tell me the truth. Do you think you’re the first to try to sympathize with my past? Do you really think you’re the first to try and use me to get out of this? Huh?” In all truthfulness, I hadn’t even considered if any others had come up with the same plan. I’d thought my idea clever.

  I nodded and received an ear-ringing slap in response. The pain was nothing compared to my headache and inner turmoil. Still, it caught me off guard and I slumped to my side on the ground. Unable to care about what happened to me anymore, I just lay there as Kait’ continued.

  “Well, you’re not, you blighted bastard.” Her words came out in a vicious hiss. “Two others have attempted to dredge up my past for their own benefit. They’re no longer with us. If not for the fact that your fighting skills can be of use and that you may lure that Kolarin back to us, you’d share their fate. I’ve settled for breaking your spirit instead. You will never speak of anything I’ve told you today or try to pull my past out of me again. Understand?”

  I nodded slowly. My sobbing was under control, but tears still flowed. My life was out of my control. Everyone I cared about was gone. I’d just killed four men in cold blood. And the worst part was that I could do nothing about it.

  Kait’ stood and walked away. Several moments later, my shortsword dropped to the ground beside me. I didn’t move to take it. The blade was still stained with the Backstabber’s blood. Instead, I retched on myself. Overhead, the gray sky let out a peal of rumbling thunder. It wasn’t long before a cold rain began to pelt me. I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. I just stayed on the ground, my mind mired in misery.

  I’m not sure how long I lay unmoving, not even knowing where Kait’ was, but at some point, I heard Eyebrows’s wagon creaking down the road. I didn’t turn to see it. Again, I didn’t care. If they wanted me to get up, they could make me. For the moment, I just wanted to close my eyes and imagine I was walking down a beach, gazing at the ocean with Sal’ by my side. No other worries. Just us. It almost made me forget my pain. Almost.

  “No. No, no, no. What’ve you done?” Briscott’s voice called, his damp, rapid footsteps growing louder through the now soggy leaves.

  “It’s not your place to ask,” Kait replied vituperatively from somewhere to my right. “He’s alive. That’s all you need to know.” I heard her footsteps move towards the cart until they faded to silence.

  Then Briscott was crouched in front of me, his face a mask of concern, his hand nervously rubbing at his beard. His hair was plastered to his head, wet clumps of it splayed across his face. If the pouring rain was bothering him, he didn’t show it. He started examining my body again.

  “Thank Loranis you’re alive,” he said. “Once I found out that Vhillin had scouted a brigand group . . . well, I’ve been worried about you all morning. I should have told you about Kait’s little ‘tests.’ I just . . . I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t reply; I just watched the wall of rain sheeting down from above, letting my eyes lose focus until the world was just a curtain of gray, just as it should’ve been.

  “Blighted hell, your wound’s just about dehisced. It’ll need restitching.”

  The words meant little to me. I closed my eyes again, letting the rain distract me from my pain. It didn’t work.

  “Korin, please, say something.”

  I opened my eyes to narrowed slits, keeping my face blank of emotion otherwise. “I killed those men. She made me.”

  Briscott took a deep, shuddering breath. “You have to stay strong, Korin. Don’t blighting start acting like the others. Life is too precious to waste like that. You hear me?”

  If I hadn’t been in such gods-awful pain, I would’ve laughed. Instead, I stared blankly at nothing and let Briscott continue his evaluation of my physical well-being.

  “Come on, let’s get you up. We’ve got to get you to the cart.” Briscott’s friendly tone had
been washed away by a tide of sorrow.

  I made no effort to stand. “Blight it all, Korin. We have to get you out of this rain.” I still didn’t move. Briscott trudged away. Shortly after—though it could’ve been an eternity for all I cared—I was being lifted with two hands under my arms and two around my ankles.

  While I was being loaded onto the cart, I saw Kait’ talking to Eyebrows. I couldn’t make out their words, but the smiles they cast my way made me ill. I simply shut my eyes, hoping that maybe I’d be lucky enough that they’d never open again.

  Chapter 15

  Day 14

  Day 14

  At least one thing has helped keep my mind off of the tangled mess of concerns that have been plaguing me. Boakler finally came and confiscated my journal pages—the fake ones. He didn’t have them for long before he came back to the carriage and actually sat on the bench across from me. None of my other captors had ever come into the carriage with me.

  “Is any of this true?” he had bluntly asked me, clearly skeptical of my written words.

  See, in my fake journal entries, I heavily implicated that two of my captors, who I intentionally left unnamed, had been working with me. I wrote that in return for secrets about “the magic squirrel” and the dragon child, I was given assurance that I’d be set free, though it would be made to look as if I’d escaped. As Boakler sat before me with narrowed eyes, I had to struggle not to laugh.

  With as straight a face as I could manage, I denied everything, saying that he must’ve misread my words. That just led to him rereading the journal several times right in front of me in the carriage, his eyes moving back and forth quickly at first, then slowly during subsequent read-throughs. His last time through, he read the words out loud, punctuating each and every syllable of each and every word.

  I’ll try to recall the conversation, just so I can have a record of his stupidity.

  ~~~~

  “So you’re claiming that I am misunderstanding these words that clearly state that there is a plot to free you in return for secrets about the magical cargo we carry?” Boakler questioned incredulously, his smug voice filling me with enough anger to quell my urge to laugh.

  “I really don’t see how you’re coming to that conclusion,” I answered in faked naiveté.

  Boakler snapped the pages taut as he brought them before his face. “They assured me that I’d be released two days outside of the Academy, as long as I gave them the secrets they requested. I couldn’t help but oblige. Those are your exact words. You’re seriously trying to tell me I’m misunderstanding them?”

  I kept my guileless face and tone intact. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  Boakler dropped the pages on his lap and began to massage his temples with his eyes closed. “You had to know we would be taking your pages again. Why should I even begin to believe your words? This is just a trick, nothing more.”

  With Boakler‘s eyes closed, I took the opportunity to smile, releasing my facial tension built up from holding back my laughter. “Exactly. You should just let it go.” I had my face schooled back to wide-eyed innocence by the time he opened his eyes again. If I see Til’ again, I’ll have to let him know that he was the inspiration for my expression.

  “You are trying to throw me off, aren’t you? You want me to think you are lying.” Boakler’s smugness was seeping back into his words.

  “I really have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied, allowing myself a smirk to reel him into the deception.

  “Dammit, Salmaea. Which two? Alix has stronger ties to the laboratory staff, so it must be him. Who else? Stemon? He has been acting strangely. Then again, Jisan has been quick to take the night shift with driving the carriage. Has he been talking to you then? Trust me, your plan will not work!” Boakler stormed out of the carriage, not allowing me to answer.

  Once alone, I allowed myself to let out a snicker.

  ~~~~

  I have to say that I’m proud of my little prank. It will keep Boakler suspicious of the other three for the remainder of the trip. Even if he confronts them directly and they deny any wrongdoing, he’ll only be able to take their words with a grain of salt. He’ll watch over me more closely, but he’ll also try to keep the others close. Not only will his suspicions of the others create a rift between them all, making the remaining portion of the trip more uncomfortable for them, but it will also take some of their attention away from watching for Korin.

  And now for the more depressing part of this entry. At this point, I’m not so sure Korin is even coming for me. I should be happy. That’s exactly what I want, right? He will be safer that way.

  We are just days from the Academy, and if he hasn’t reached us yet, I have little hope that he will. I know it is for the best; Korin can’t stand against the wizards of the Academy. Besides, I would just be in for more heartache when he learned the truth . . .

  Regretfully, I’ve also realized that there’s no way that I can free Max before we get to the Academy. I’m sure of that now. But I will find a way after we arrive. Surely I can find someone to help. If only Saiyre wasn’t such a Hindren-blooded follower of protocol.

  No matter what it takes, I will free Max so that he can find Korin. He’ll be able to help Korin fulfill the prophecy that Raijom is so afraid of, I can help my father with the possible wizard participation in the war, and we can all move on with our lives. It will hurt—it will hurt me, at least—but it’s what must be done. I was a fool to think I could . . .

  Okay, I’m not going to get down on myself again. Today was a good day, and I still find myself laughing at Boakler’s stupidity. I’m glad he’s the one who took my journal. Ever since we were classmates years ago at the Academy, he’s always treated me with condescension, mostly because of who my father is—the same reason as most.

  I’ve always been seen as some pampered princess who receives preferential treatment because of my father’s position. If only they knew the pressure, the way I’m treated by him.

  I’m doing it again. No more. I’ve fooled my captors, and now I’m going to sit back and enjoy watching the tension swelling between them for the rest of the trip. I think both Korin and Max would be proud. Maybe Max has even been able to hear what I did and is laughing himself. Hopefully I’ll have a little entertainment to keep my mind off of the war, my father, and Korin. Maybe it’ll keep my mind clear enough to figure out how to free Max once we arrive at the Academy.

  Chapter 16

  Sometimes It Just Takes a Kick in the Ass from a Cat

  My spirit was broken, my soul dead. Kait’ had gotten exactly what she’d wanted.

  After a few hours of failed attempts, Briscott gave up on prodding me to speak, tending to my wounds and nothing more. When he tried to give me some tashave leaf, I held up a hand in refusal. As dark as it sounds, I felt I deserved the pain as atonement for my actions. Despite Briscott’s repeated words that what happened with the brigands wasn’t my fault, I felt otherwise. I had been holding the weapon that killed those men. I had taken their lives.

  For the next four days, I didn’t speak unless ordered to. What Briscott had complained about in the other men, I found to be a blessing. They didn’t speak to me except to tell me when it was my turn for watch or whatever other task Eyebrows and Kait’ decided to heap on me. Briscott gave me space but made at least one strong attempt each day to pull me out from my self-withdrawal. He didn’t succeed. Feeding myself felt like a chore, one that I had no interest in. However, whenever Briscott wasn’t on watch, he’d stare me down until I ate. Looking back, I feel horrible about how I acted around him. He was only trying to help.

  Kait’ made sure to give me a knowing smile whenever she saw me. Those smiles were all that distracted me from my pain and self-loathing. They instead filled me with a focused anger that unfortunately couldn’t be released. Thankfully, I didn’t go on any other scoutings with her.

  We set up camp every night, even though our supplies were stretched thin. After
the brigands were looted, we had plenty of money to restock with coin to spare for whenever we finally did cross a town. That meant that Kait’ and Eyebrows could save Til’s woodwork for a large city, where it would fetch a better price.

  Til’, Sal’, and Max hardly entered my troubled mind during those days. When they did, I felt even worse. I could only think of how I’d failed them all. Especially Max. Even though we were making our way to Tahron, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to save him. Eyebrows and Kait’ planned for us to enslave wizards in towns outside of the Academy, keeping us from ever actually going to the Academy itself.

  Even if we survived through that, I was positive that Eyebrows didn’t plan on letting his current slaves live. That included me. He would likely take the rocks from our chests to enslave six more wizards, who would be better equipped to fight the undead in Gualain. Then, he would probably have us killed to keep us from hindering his plans.

  With the days passing, I figured Til’ had decided to make his way to Tahron, as opposed to coming after me. I couldn’t help but worry about what would happen to him once he found Sal’ and Max, if he were even able to. The weight kept piling on my shoulders, just like a stone in the ocean or the ground under a mountain.

  On the fourth night after involuntarily slaying the brigands, we stopped to set up camp. I was given first shift on watch, along with Oslen. Afterwards, I was allowed my four hours of sleep. The first two hours, as with the three nights before, were spent reliving the horrors of that day with Kait’ and the brigands. There’s only so long your mind can keep going after you shut your eyes, though, and I eventually fell into a deep sleep.

  ****

  I awoke to two small points of pressure on my chest and a larger one on my stomach. Sitting atop me was Max, the familiar black stripes on his gray-furred body and black M on his forehead intact. His green feline eyes glared at me as if disappointed.