Crying Havoc fk-4

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Crying Havoc fk-4 Page 29

by Toby Neighbors


  “Yes, I have to do it. Will you keep this wagon until I return?”

  “Sure, be glad to do it. Here, let me help you unhitch it.”

  Moments later she was charging down the road after Quinn.

  Chapter 29

  Zollin and Mansel were given a tiny room with two narrow beds that was located in the military compound just inside the walls of Orrock City. They immediately went to sleep. They were roused an hour before dawn, and both men washed themselves using small basins that were provided for them. The water was cold, but neither complained. They had traveled hard, and it was the first time either had been able to wash in a long time. When they were dressed they emerged from their room with their gear, preparing to set out at first light, but instead they were met by Commander Hausey.

  “The King is back,” he said to Zollin. “He’s asking for you.”

  “All right, lead the way.”

  The city was already crowded. Many of the people from the surrounding villages had now moved their belongings inside the city walls. They slept wherever they could find space. The streets were clogged with people, most still sleeping, wrapped in blankets and huddling along the buildings for what little shelter they provided. The military compound was in a part of the city Zollin had never visited, but the castle was easily the tallest building in Orrock, and he could have found his way to the royal residence without Hausey to guide him.

  Mansel followed Zollin, although his presence wasn’t requested, and he didn’t relish seeing the King. Felix had sent Mansel and Quinn to escort Prince Wilam home from Osla, but they had made it only as far as Lodenhime. The King would want answers, and Mansel didn’t want anything to keep him from being able to return with Zollin as soon as possible. Gwendolyn wouldn’t be pleased if he arrived leading a legion of troops.

  The castle walls were heavily manned, and the gate was shut and barred. Only the narrow, side doorway was open, and every person going in and out was searched. Zollin submitted to the intrusion. He had a dagger in his belt, but no other weapons. Mansel, on the other hand, had his sword and was not happy about giving it up.

  “Let him have your sword,” Commander Hausey told Mansel. “You’ll get it back in due time.”

  “They didn’t take your weapons,” Mansel said in a growl.

  “I’m a commander in the King’s Army.”

  “I don’t let anyone touch my sword,” he said defiantly.

  “Fine, you don’t have to join us,” Zollin said. “Why don’t you wait in the tavern you stayed in before? I’ll come and get you when I’m done.”

  “All right,” Mansel said.

  The truth was, he didn’t like Zollin being out of his sight, but this way he got to keep his sword and avoid the King. He turned and headed to the nearby establishment while Zollin followed Hausey into the castle.

  Servants were hurrying everywhere inside the castle courtyards. There were animals being fed and watered and even more servants cleaning the dung from the courtyard cobblestones. There were men stacking crates of supplies. There were piles of arrows and tables laden with swords, shields, and spears. The castle was heavily guarded as well, but this time Zollin and Hausey were waved through without incident.

  They climbed the wide staircase to the third floor. The castle was familiar to Zollin; he had stayed there for nearly a week after healing King Felix from the poison Prince Simmeron and his surgeon had been administering the King. When they reached the large royal chamber, they found the wooden carved doors propped open. The room was full of military staff and servants. On the King’s desk food had been laid out: eggs, bacon, fruit, and freshly baked bread were laid out for anyone who wanted them, although Zollin didn’t see anyone eating. His own stomach growled at the sight of such rich food just waiting to be eaten. He couldn’t help but think that Mansel would have gone straight to the food. The thought made him smile, and it was the first truly happy thought he’d had since losing Brianna to the dragon.

  “You’re here just in time,” the King said from across the crowded room.

  The military men parted, and Zollin saw the King propped in a chair, with healers examining his foot.

  “What can you do for an arrow wound?” the King asked. “Some fool got a lucky shot that hit me in the only place I didn’t have armor. Right in the damn boot.”

  The foot was elevated, and the boot had been cut away. The arrow had been severed, as that was the only way to get the King’s foot free from his stirrup, but the projectile was still in his flesh. It penetrated just below his ankle bone and protruded from the bottom of his foot.

  “That looks painful,” Zollin said.

  “It is,” King Felix said. “I damn near passed out when they were cutting my boot off.”

  “It was necessary, my liege,” said one of the healers. “You should have let us give you a sleeping potion.”

  “No, we haven’t got time for that,” the King said. “Zollin, can you heal it? If not, I’m going to have the arrow pulled out and the wound tended by my healers.”

  “Yes, I can help,” Zollin said. “Give me a little room, please.”

  The healers and medical staff stepped back, but they were all watching with fascination. Zollin’s first move was to block the pain receptors in King Felix’s foot from sending their electrical message of pain up to the King’s brain.

  “Oh, that’s better already,” Felix said.

  “Pull out the arrow,” Zollin told the healers. “Do it very, very slowly.”

  One man took hold of the King’s leg, another held the foot still, and a third man began to pull the arrow using a set of tongs. Zollin let his magic flow into the swollen foot. He passed through blood and antibodies that were causing the swelling, and focused on the damage the arrow had caused. He could sense the wooden shaft of the arrow being pulled slowly down through the bottom of the King’s foot. As the end of the arrow disappeared into the King’s foot, Zollin began to heal the wound. He mended the skin, causing the crowd in the room to gasp, but then the real healing began. First was the muscle that had to be knit back together. Blood vessels were rejoined to each other, nerves restored. Finally the arrow came free, and Zollin finished his work. The magic inside him was as hot as a fire, but the inner levies he had constructed contained the heat and focused his power.

  “That was miraculous, Sire,” said one of the healers.

  “I didn’t do it,” Felix said, trying to flex his foot, which was slowly resuming its normal shape and size as Zollin moved the fluids that had built up in the tissue and joints around the many bones.

  “I could use some breakfast,” Zollin said when he finished healing the King’s foot.

  The King was standing up, gently testing his weight on the recently healed limb.

  “Bring me a fresh pair of boots,” the King said loudly.

  Servants hurried around the room as Zollin poured himself a mug of fruit juice. He was just taking a long drink of the cool, sweet drink when the King came up to him.

  “Thank you, Zollin,” he said.

  Zollin took a bite of bacon and waved his hand as if to say the act had been nothing special. The King stayed near the table, but he drank wine instead of juice and didn’t eat. The other military officers gathered around the table as well.

  “You did well, Commander Hausey,” the King said.

  “We had very little trouble, Your Highness.”

  “We’ll hear all about that another time. Right now we have to focus on the attack that is surely coming soon. As you both probably know we’ve been in the field. Your old friend Offendorl has led an army to our doorstep in an attempt to force you to join him, Zollin.”

  “I don’t know the man,” Zollin said around a mouthful of food.

  “I’m guessing you know the dragon well enough. Well, now we do, too. It attacked our trebuchets and cut a swath through the Boar Legion as well. We’ll be lucky to have three thousand men to defend our city when the army returns.”

  “The dragon is w
ith the army?” Zollin asked. “Or did it just attack and leave?”

  “I can’t say for sure where the beast is. It’s too bad you weren’t able to conquer it, but it was as I expected, under the control of the Torr.”

  Zollin’s mind was racing. He couldn’t believe his ears, and yet it made perfect sense. If the Torr controlled the dragon, Brianna might be under their control as well. The dragon could have delivered her right to them.

  “I should go and deal with it,” Zollin said firmly.

  “No, that’s not a good idea,” the King said. “I know you have a history with the beast. Hausey gave me a brief report before bringing you here. We need to consolidate our forces. The army will be here soon. They’ve marched all night. They’ll need rest and healers to help the wounded. If you leave the city, you’ll be exposed, and we won’t be able to help you.”

  “That’s all right,” Zollin said. “It’s my choice.”

  “And you won’t be able to help us,” the King said pointedly. “We’ve done our best to stop this invasion, to push the enemy back and make their progress too painful to continue, but they outnumber us, and there are reports from Ebbson Keep of military forces building up at Fort Jellar. If Baskla or Ortis marches against us from the east, we’ll be hard pressed to survive.”

  “Without their dragon, they won’t have much chance of defeating you inside the city,” Zollin said.

  “That’s true enough, but I doubt defeating us is what they’re after. They want you; they want our resources. All they’ve got to do is lay siege to the city, and wait. In the meantime they can pillage the towns and villages at will, while we slowly starve to death. And if they have reinforcements coming in from Baskla, they could have enough troops to overrun the city.”

  “If they’re after me, why not just send me to them?” Zollin asked.

  “We aren’t giving up that easily. We can fight. With your help, we can hurt them badly enough to withdraw.”

  “What about the treaty? I thought that using wizards in the military was banned when the Five Kingdoms formed the confederation.”

  “It was, but you have to understand we didn’t start this fight. The Torr pushed this invasion because we weren’t willing to turn you over to Offendorl,” the King said.

  “You’re saying it’s my fault they invaded Yelsia?” Zollin asked.

  “Not your fault. No, you are just one part of their plan. Offendorl can’t let you go free. He’s here to take you back to the Torr or see you dead. The other kings want to crush me and divide Yelsia between them. They drew first blood; they invaded our kingdom. That gives us the right to fight back however we choose. They have a wizard, and we have a wizard. There is no unfair advantage to that.”

  Zollin found a nearby stool and sat down. Once again he felt the desire to just give in. Why shouldn’t he join the Torr? Perhaps it was for the best, he thought. If he had, this army wouldn’t have invaded Yelsia, and if this Offendorl had Brianna, or at the very least the dragon, he could finally get some answers. On the other hand, if Brianna was still alive somewhere, he could never go to her if he joined the Torr. And neither could he go with Mansel to save his father.

  “Gentlemen,” the King said, speaking to his generals. “I want weapons and supplies stocked in every part of the city. For now, the Wolf’s Legion remains on watch, but I want the Fox, Boar, and Eagle Legions assigned to various sections of the city. We need clear lines of communication and contingency plans in place to move soldiers across the city if needed.”

  He continued giving orders, mainly for the rest and nourishment of the troops he was expecting to arrive at the city. Zollin heard little of what was being said, but soon most of the military personnel had left the room, including Commander Hausey. Zollin had finished eating the food he had picked up, but he didn’t remember eating it.

  “I think you need something a little stronger than fruit juice,” King Felix told him. “I know you’ve got a lot on your mind. I need you here, though. I need you to fight with us,” he said as he poured a goblet of wine.

  Zollin sipped the drink. It was strong and it burned all the way down to his stomach. The magic inside of him seemed to react to the wine, his power growing with each hot sip.

  “I’m certain of two things,” King Felix said, sitting on a chair opposite Zollin, with a goblet of wine in his own hand. “First, I’m certain that Offendorl means you harm. He may not kill you if you give yourself up, but he will enslave you. The Torr was meant to be a society of wizards, a place where people like yourself could grow in your skills and benefit the Five Kingdoms. Instead, it has become Offendorl’s personal menagerie of magic users, each answering to him and increasing his own personal power. He’s old and he’s devious. We can’t trust him. You should never trust him.

  “Secondly, I’m sure he means to give Yelsia to the other kings as payment for their troops. He doesn’t have to of course; he has the power to force them to do his bidding, but I’m sure King Belphan and King Oveer were all too willing to join his little invasion.”

  “So what do you want from me?” Zollin asked. “I have things to do besides pull Yelsia out of the fire every time I turn around.”

  King Felix was shocked by Zollin’s tone. He wasn’t arrogant, but clearly frustrated. It was a tone that the King was not used to hearing from his subordinates. He had to swallow his own frustration and remain calm. Zollin had not been in the field with the army, but he had suffered loss and endured hardship. He had earned the right to question the King, at least this one time.

  “I am your King,” Felix said. “Even wizards are beholden to their rulers. I don’t have your power, and I’m not the type of man who would make you use your magic against your will. But Yelsia needs you, now more than ever.”

  “I don’t know,” Zollin said, throwing his hands up into the air. “It seems like I cause more problems than I solve. I don’t mean to be rude, Sire, but it’s hard for me to wonder what I can do that would actually be of service.”

  “That’s a good question, and to be honest, we won’t know until the invaders arrive. But I know one thing for certain. If the dragon returns, we will need your help. You’ve done nothing wrong. You had every right to refuse the Torr. The treaty said that we, the kings of the Five Kingdoms, would turn over our wizards. In other words, that we would not keep wizards in our armies. But the Torr has changed, and you have never been part of the King’s Army, at least until now. We have done nothing wrong, certainly nothing that would warrant sending an army onto our sovereign soil. Had you been here in Orrock when the wizards of the Torr first found you, I would have counseled you to do as you did. It was not their place to take you from your home by force.”

  “So what do you want from me?” Zollin asked.

  “I want you to stay close until we know exactly what we’re dealing with. I want you to help, where and when you can. For now, that is all I want. Once we know more, we can make a decision together. And whatever your decision, I’ll support you.”

  Zollin wondered if the King really meant what he was saying, but he had no reason to believe otherwise. Still, he sensed that the King wanted Zollin within his control. That was always behind their seemingly genial conversations, as if Zollin were just a tool to be used by King Felix, instead of a person with hopes and dreams of his own.

  Zollin agreed to stay in the city, and the King insisted he have his old quarters in the castle. Zollin went back to the rooms and found them just as he had left them, which was much the way Branock had them when he had been conniving with Prince Simmeron. They had been cleaned, but the furniture was familiar and brought back memories of his time there with Brianna. His heart ached fiercely just thinking of her. He wanted to ride out of the city and find the damn dragon. It felt too much like he was simply writing Brianna off by staying in the city, but he knew better. He didn’t expect to get answers from the dragon; it was a wild creature, after all. Instead, he wanted it to suffer, the way he was suffering, although he knew that
was impossible as well.

  He wandered out of the castle and was thinking of going to find Mansel when a soldier came hurrying up to him.

  “Master Zollin,” the soldier shouted.

  “That’s me,” Zollin confirmed.

  “Commander Hausey sent me to find you,” he said, between gasps for breath. “The army has returned and they have wounded. Commander Hausey requests your help.”

  Zollin sighed deeply. He wanted to be left alone, but he knew that staying busy was a healthier alternative to brooding in the streets. He nodded and followed the soldier, who led Zollin back to the military compound. A makeshift hospital had been set up, and healers were hurrying around. Zollin found Commander Hausey, who looked relieved that he had come.

  “Zollin, thank you for coming.”

  “Of course, Commander,” Zollin said. “Take me to the most critical soldiers first.”

  Hausey showed Zollin into a building that was full of men, most lying covered with blankets, unconscious or in shock. There were several with severe burn wounds. The dragon had made a pass through a large group of soldiers; most of those unfortunate enough to be close to the dragon had been consumed by the fire, but many others were just badly burned. Zollin didn’t mind working on burns. The heat affected the tissue beneath the skin, but it was easier to heal than most wounds. He worked as quickly as he could, healing the worst of the wounds and leaving the minor burns for the healers to handle. By midday, most of the critical patients were healed, and Zollin had lost only a few men who had succumbed to their wounds before he could get to them.

  Commander Hausey brought Zollin lunch.

  “As I recall, you prefer wine,” he said with a smile. “The army cooks are roasting sheep. I have mutton, bread, and vegetables. Are you hungry?”

  “Famished,” Zollin admitted.

  They ate outside. The streets were crowded and busy, but in the military compound there was still space on the drilling ground were they could sit and eat undisturbed. Most of the soldiers were sleeping. He assumed they had traveled all night and would be allowed to rest a while. He was tired too, extremely tired. He and the knights had pushed their pace trying to get to Orrock. Zollin had been relentless once he’d seen the dragon. He had slept for a few hours, but as he ate the rich food and sat still, fatigue drifted over him like a dark storm cloud.

 

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