The Forever Knight

by John Marco

  Cricket sat up with a groan. “Why do you care, Lukien?” She rolled to the side of the bed. “You don’t know these people. You don’t owe them anything. Malator’s right-there’s nothing you can do for them. Let’s just get out of here.”

  “Back to Isowon?” Malator asked.

  “Right.”

  “What about Sky Falls?” asked Cricket. “What about your promise, Lukien? I’m just starting to remember stuff. If I can just see the Falls again, maybe it’ll all come back to me.”

  “And maybe it won’t,” I said sharply. “Has coming here helped your memory at all? You haven’t said.”

  “No, but why would it? I’m sure I never came here before. No one could forget this place!”

  “You forgot your mother and father. You forgot your family’s name.”

  “I remembered the Bloody Knot.”

  “And nothing else. We’ve been traveling for days, and that’s the only thing you remember.” I lowered my voice. “We’ll go to Sky Falls when we can, if we’re lucky and no one follows us out of here. We’ll see.”

  Cricket scowled but said nothing. She flopped back on the bed.

  “Diriel will want his answer in the morning,” said Malator. “What are you going to tell him, Lukien?”

  Every option seemed dismal. “I need to think,” I sighed and went back to staring out the window.

  * * *

  Cricket slept, and I watched over her as I’d promised, tipping back on the legs of my chair with the Sword of Angels in my lap and no one to keep me company. Malator had disappeared back into the blade. I could feel him within it, as though he were far away. Outside my dingy window I watched the moon rise and fall, watched the rats skitter across the colonnade. I listened to the wind, like it was crying, wondered if the Kassen slaves were still piled atop each other, and closed my eyes just long enough to picture that man who’d slit his throat the way another might cut a cake. No one came to our room that night, not even Grecht. When the sun finally came up, I welcomed the light until I realized nothing outside my window had changed.

  Cricket woke up looking for breakfast, but there wasn’t any, just the untouched tray of inedibles we’d been given the night before. She didn’t apologize, but she didn’t antagonize me anymore, either. She washed her face in a basin of gray water, waiting for me to tell her what kind of plan I’d come up with.

  “So?” She dried herself with the inside of her cape. “What’d you decide?”

  I was about to answer “Nothing,” when a knock at the door startled us both. Grecht pushed the door aside and peeked in his oversized head. “Sir Lukien? Good morning! Are you ready?”

  “For what?”

  “Oh, I thought it was clear. King Diriel wishes to speak to you. Right at this moment, please.”

  I finally got out of my chair and sheathed my sword. “Our horses ready?”

  “In the courtyard. Both fed and rested.” Grecht opened the door wider and stepped aside for us. “Come now.”

  Grecht’s smile seemed genuine. Was Diriel really letting us go?

  “Let us get our things together,” I said, even though we had almost nothing. Cricket draped her cape around her shoulders and shot me a look of mistrust. All I could do was shrug.

  “Where is he?” I asked.

  “In the cloister, waiting for you,” said Grecht. “He’s eager for your answer.”

  “Take us there,” I ordered. Only I didn’t have an answer. Not really. I spent the night trying to think of one, but Diriel wasn’t going to be reasonable. He’d left reason behind a long time ago.

  I followed Grecht into the hallway, keeping Cricket close beside me. The hall was as empty as the night before, and we didn’t pass a single soul until we descended the stairs down to the ground level. The castle was even emptier than the day before. I supposed everyone was sleeping. Shafts of dusty light sliced through the hall from the slender arrow-loops. The hall led us out into daylight, into the arched colonnade I’d watched from our chamber. I took a deep breath to clear the smell of the castle from my lungs, grateful just to be outside again. The colonnade circled the back of the castle, away from the front courtyard and the wind of the mountains. The peace disarmed me. There were no slaves, no skulls, no half-dead soldiers, just old stones, grass, a few struggling trees. Wonderfully boring things. I began to relax.

  Until a cry knifed through the silence.

  Cricket stopped with a gasp. “What was that?”

  When the noise came again I listened closely. “An animal?”

  “Oh, that damn noise,” grunted Grecht. “Come. Don’t worry. Come.”

  Maybe a cat, I thought, remembering the way I’d heard them scream with heat in the streets of Koth. The silence of the morning made the cry seem ten times louder. Yet, my heartbeat calmed and we followed Grecht down the colonnade until we reached a lawn of overgrown grass and dead flowers. Out in the center of the scrubby lawn squatted Diriel, smack in the sunlight, petting a big, regal-looking peacock. The sight so stunned me, I went mute. Cricket peered at him, then declared him completely mindless.

  “Now we know, huh?” she scoffed. “As though we doubted it.”

  He looked like a child, his knees smudged with dirt, his fingers gentle over the feathers. A big, insane child. He didn’t even notice us watching him. The bird let out another of its piercing cries, and Diriel soothed it, talking to it like a baby and stroking its back. Grecht nervously cleared his throat before stepping on to the lawn.

  “Unrivaled?” he called. “He’s here.”

  Diriel didn’t even stand up but waved me over like a playmate. “Come over here,” he shouted.

  “He means you, Sir Lukien,” said Grecht. “Just you. Not the girl.”

  “Why? What’s the problem? I keep telling him-”

  “No, it’s all right,” said Cricket. “I’m fine. I’ll wait here.” She glared at Grecht. “Is that okay with you?”

  Grecht held up his little hands. “He’s the ruler not me.”

  “All right, just stay where I can see you,” I told Cricket. “Let me get this over with so we can leave. Grecht, where’s Wrestler?”

  “Somewhere else. King Diriel only comes here himself. The cloister is forbidden to Wrestler.”

  I stooped all the way down, face to face with him. “If you’re lying to me, Grecht, you should know I have no conscience about killing midgets.”

  Grecht raised his chin at me, then pointed with his flapping sleeve to Diriel. “Go.”

  He wasn’t afraid of me. No one here was. I walked across the grass to where Diriel was waiting, digging in to a sack at his belt for feed for the peacock. He scattered the seeds or whatever they were on the ground, then stood to meet me.

  “Have you made your decision?” he asked.

  I stalled, because I hadn’t. “Is that a pet?”

  “No,” said Diriel. “A prize. I wanted you to see it. Have you seen a peacock before? They used to be all over this part of the Bitter Kingdoms. No more though.”

  I knew he wanted me to ask, so I did. “Why? What happened to them?”

  “War happened. The same thing that happened to all the people. Siege. Starvation. You must have wondered, yes? I saw you sitting by the window all night. You must have been thinking about something.”

  “You were down in the yard?”

  “I wasn’t spying, if that’s what you’re thinking. I walk every night through the yards.”

  “Bad dreams?” I asked. “I wonder why.”

  Diriel wiped the seed from his palms. He squatted down next to the peacock and ran his fingers over its long, back feathers. “People think this is a tail, but it isn’t. It’s called a covert. He doesn’t always raise it up like this, but he’s looking for a mate.”

  “Like a cat,” I said. “That noise he makes.”

  “He won’t find one, though. Not in Akyre. They’re all dead. Haven’t you noticed how quiet it is here? When you were on the road here, did you see peacocks? Or anything?�
��

  I thought about it but couldn’t recall seeing even a flock of starlings. The landscape was a rugged one, but even deserts had animals in them. “You said starvation. You ate them?”

  “Everything that could walk, crawl, or fly through the sky,” said Diriel. “And then anything else.” He looked up at me with his pointed teeth. “The Kassens started it. You should know that. Always wanting war. Drin, too. They went along like lap dogs. They love to burn things, the Kassens. The farms were gone in a month. This castle was where they made their siege. We held them, though. They never made it across the bridge. It took almost a year, but eventually they gave up. Retreated back to Kasse. We had so many dead we tossed them into the ravine by the hundreds.”

  “When did you start. .”

  I stopped. I just couldn’t say it. But I really didn’t have to. Diriel took my meaning. He took my hand in his own claw-like fingers and guided them to the peacock.

  “Like this,” he said, directing my hand as we stroked the beautiful bird. When he let go I kept stroking, understanding instantly his connection with the creature, the only thing of any beauty for miles. I was in for a story whether I liked it or not, and petting the peacock somehow made it more bearable.

  “When the siege broke we realized the Kassens had taken or destroyed everything. Anyone who didn’t make it into the castle had scattered. The land was burned. Useless. They call these lands the Bitter Kingdoms for a reason. Even good years here have droughts, blight, every curse the gods know how to give. The year I was born, they tell me there were so many locusts you couldn’t even see the sky. Those bastard bugs ate everything that year, but even then we didn’t eat people.”

  Diriel prodded me suddenly with his finger.

  “You getting what I’m saying, Liirian? You imagining how bad things were?” He pointed at his sharpened teeth. “You see these? I was the first. I filed them down and sucked the meat off the first Kassen’s bones I could get my lips around, just to show my people I wasn’t afraid. Scared the livin’ shit out of the Kassens. Told them we were coming for them.”

  I kept petting the bird as calmly as I could. Just past Diriel I saw Cricket in the colonnade, puzzling over what we were saying.

  “Is that when you asked Fallon for the mummia?”

  “Not at first. At first I didn’t need it. My legionnaires were starved but hungry for revenge. We broke over the border like a wave! And when those Kassen pigs saw us, all screaming and bloody, they ran. So we went after them. That’s when I remembered. The old Akyren kings knew about magic. They called upon the powers of the dead. That’s my bloodline. It’s my right! I gave everything I had left to that skunk Anton Fallon. And you know why he took it? Because he doesn’t care about anything but money. He didn’t lift a pinky finger to stop the slaughter in Akyre. Just kept right on selling his spices from Zura, silks for his fancy-boy friends, everything.”

  “That sounds like Fallon all right.”

  “Sounds like a Liirian, too,” spat Diriel. “I sent emissaries to Liiria. And to Reec and Norvor. Do you know what I heard back? Nothing. I told them how the Kassens were murdering us. I sent them a cloth from my own daughter’s dress with a note about how she starved to death. You have some cold-hearted kings on the continent, Sir Lukien. They could’ve helped us. But they didn’t. So piss on all of them!”

  Slowly, I stood to face him. For a moment I’d thought his madness had passed, but now it was all over him again. Cricket looked nervous. I shook my head to ease her worry.

  “They call you ‘the Unrivaled’ here,” I said. “Your men are obviously loyal. They follow you because you saved them. You’ve already proven yourself, my lord. You’ve already beaten Kasse. You don’t have to keep on fighting.”

  “There’s Drin,” said Diriel. “And Isowon. All the old lands of the empire. I’m intent on them. That’s the only way to protect ourselves. No more Bitter Kingdoms. We’ll be an empire again.”

  “And what about the people? The Kassens you haven’t killed yet. What about Drin? You plan to kill them all?”

  “Yes,” said Diriel firmly. “Or make them slaves.”

  “And you’ll be the emperor?”

  “I am the emperor.”

  I looked down at his treasured peacock. “You know, I’ve been playing for time here, wondering how to tell you my decision. You already have an army of monsters. Why would you need one more?”

  “The people of Isowon didn’t help us, but they didn’t make war on us either. You can spare them the fate of the Kassens, Sir Lukien, just by getting me that creature. It’s my right to rule that beast. My privilege as emperor. But wait.” He took my shoulder. “Before you decide, let me show you something.”

  Diriel urged me back toward the colonnade, where Cricket waited and Grecht stood with a stupid smile. Cricket looked excited, hoping we were finally leaving. I moved in a fog, wondering what last atrocity Diriel had to show us.

  “Lukien?” asked Cricket as we approached. “Are we going?”

  “Yes.” Whether Diriel allowed it or not, we were going.

  Diriel led the way, back through the colonnade, into the deserted castle and toward the gate where we’d first entered the day before. I caught sight of Wrestler, standing at the threshold with a wicked smile. Just ahead of him stood Zephyr and Cricket’s pony, refreshed and rested, just like Grecht had promised. A flame of hope flickered inside me. But like a stiff wind, what I saw next extinguished it.

  All across the battlements and catwalks, lined up along the castle wall and crowding the yard, stood a silent army, a phalanx of dead-eyed legionnaires, unmoving, armed with swords and spears and war scythes. I came through the gate and saw a hundred of them. Then hundreds more. An impossible number that made my bones freeze. All I heard was Wrestler laughing, loving my shock. The soldiers stretched beyond the courtyard, even around the castle’s twin turrets. Dressed in their ragged uniforms and cast-offs, it seemed that every able man in Akyre had been turned into one of Diriel’s soulless slaves.

  “They’ve been called here,” said Diriel. “From Kasse and the Drin border, mostly. Regular soldiers, too. Just so you see what Fallon would be up against. I thought you should know.” He smiled in a way that made his lips twist. “Don’t put me to the test, Sir Lukien. All of Akyre will be mine again, but you can save the folk of Isowon from the worst of it. Now tell me, what you have decided?”

  I couldn’t hide my contempt. “You have me,” I confessed. “But I can’t make promises. I don’t know if I can control the creature. Maybe no one can.”

  “Don’t worry, Bronze Knight,” jeered Wrestler. “If you die trying, you can always try again.”

  “One week,” said Diriel. “After that my army marches for Isowon. Tell Anton Fallon this. Warn him of our coming. We’ll see if he’s man enough to stand his ground or if he runs back to Zura.”

  “He’s got an army of his own,” said Cricket. “He’ll fight you.”

  “He’ll lose,” said Diriel. “Be a friend to Isowon, girl. Help your master Lukien get me the creature.”

  Wrestler winked at Cricket.

  “What about him?” I asked. “You’ll call him off? That’s got to be part of the bargain.”

  “One week,” Diriel repeated. “After that, you and the girl are fair game. Isowon, too.”

  I nodded and pushed Cricket toward her pony. “You hear that, Wrestler?” I asked him. “Seven days. After that, you’re fair game to me.”

  19

  I couldn’t get Cricket to speak. She simply wouldn’t talk to me.

  At first I barely noticed her silence. We were too busy riding out of Akyre to pay much attention to anything, and I kept worrying that Diriel was already sending his soldiers after us. I let Cricket take the lead again, confident she’d find us the fastest path south. We rode like that for over two hours, until our mounts were exhausted, and I was confident we weren’t being followed. Finally, when I called for Cricket to stop, I thought she didn’t hear me. She just
kept right on galloping away.

  “Hey!” I shouted. “Stop now!”

  She jerked back the reins of her pony. The animal halted but Cricket didn’t turn around. I’d already lost patience with her. I was tired, hungry, and more than a little afraid. I should have seen what was happening to her.

  “We’re gonna kill these horses if we don’t slow down,” I said, catching up to her. “The river’s close. We’ll find it and rest there. Nice and easy now.”

  Cricket didn’t even nod. She rode off at a slow saunter. I kept back a few paces, taking the time to clear my head. To be honest I was grateful for the quiet. Malator must have sensed that, because he didn’t bother me either. My mind kept tripping over what I’d seen: the legion of the lost, that mad midget Grecht, even the peacock. I tried to remember everything Diriel had told me. I needed sleep. But we were on a dirt road, out in the open, and more than anything we needed shelter.

  So we were going back to Isowon. Not just to warn them, but because I needed a place to hide Cricket. Wrestler was coming for her; I’d seen it in his eyes. Some sick kind of lust. Some men see a thing and have to have it. They get obsessed. Whatever it was, I knew Cricket wouldn’t be safe until we were far away from the Bitter Kingdoms or Wrestler was dead. I’d already made my choice, and it wasn’t to run away. I wanted to fight, not just Wrestler but the monster, too. I was making mistakes and knew it.

  I let Cricket ride ahead of me for a while longer, hoping she’d calm down. In time she’d forgive me, I figured. She was owed an apology for being taken to Akyre, but I can’t abide being ignored. I’d never regretted taking Cricket with me or making her my squire until right then.

  “If she were a boy she’d be less moody,” I grumbled. I dug into my saddlebag and took out an apple, one of the last Marilius had given us. Thinking it a good peace offering, I called out to Cricket. “You hungry?”

  She rode on, swaying on her pony with her back to me.

  “You haven’t eaten a thing today.” I held out the apple, hoping she’d turn around. “Here.”