Prince of Malorn (Annals of Alasia Book 3)

by Annie Douglass Lima

  “And you’ve been slow and stupid at most of them, even the easiest things,” Ernth retorted.

  That isn’t true anymore, and you know it. But Korram didn’t think it would do much good to say the words aloud. He scowled. “Well, I’d like to see you try ruling a kingdom! That’s not so easy either, if you haven’t been raised learning how!”

  “Enough, enough,” Charr cut in, putting a hand on her brother’s shoulder before he could answer. “You know he’s done his best so far, Ernth, and he’s given us no reason to mistrust him. Even you have never come up with one, though not for lack of trying. Give him a chance with the goats. Like he said, what could he do?”

  Ernth shrugged as though he didn’t care and turned away. Tossing his empty milk pouch to the ground, he strode over to where his horse stood nearby with the others, vaulted lightly onto her bare back, and cantered off across the slope before anyone else could speak.

  “Well, you can help Relth and me with the goats,” Thorst told Korram curtly. “Bring a staff, since you don’t have a spear.”

  Korram poked around among the trees until he found a stick long enough to use as a staff. Briefly, he debated returning to his own camp for his sword, but decided against it. The Mountain Folk would probably look down on him for relying on a Lowlander weapon.

  Relth tied the baby onto her back with a rabbit-skin blanket. Meanwhile, Thorst picked up three leather water flasks and filled a bag with leftover lumjum from last night’s supper. He then unpegged a corner of one of the tents to make an opening between them, and the goats came trotting out from inside the circle. They followed Relth, who was already leading the way down to the stream. Korram hurried to catch up, staff in hand, wondering exactly what he was expected to do.

  “I’ll bring up the rear and you stay in the middle,” Thorst instructed him as they stopped by the water’s edge to let the goats drink. “Use your staff to nudge them in the right direction if they start to stray.”

  They splashed across the stream and started up the opposite slope. Relth led the way once more, the baby gurgling cheerfully from his cozy position on her back. Korram walked in the middle of the flock, darting from one side to the other to turn back goats that tried to break off in the direction of whatever juicy shrubs caught their attention. On the whole, however, he was relieved to see that most of the animals followed Relth without much goading.

  For half an hour or so they hiked uphill, down the next slope, and then uphill once more, heading for what Thorst said was the best pasture in the area. Finally they reached an open meadow, gently sloping, with a valley on one side and high, forested peaks on another. Beyond the forests, they could see even higher peaks disappearing into the clouds, their flanks white with snow.

  The goats spread out to graze on the lush vegetation, and after a quick check of the area for any danger, the three goatherds found a shady spot to stand where they could keep an eye on the flock. Thorst helped his wife untie little Chenth and they set him on the blanket on the sun-warmed grass.

  Relth passed around the leather water flasks and the leftover lumjum cakes. They divided up the food and ate hungrily, watching the goats enjoying their own meal.

  “Why does Ernth hate me so much?” Korram asked presently. Something about the meadow’s serenity gave him the feeling that he could talk to the Mountain Folk freely here and that they might just open up to him with some answers. “Is he that way toward all Lowlanders, or is it just me?”

  “It’s all Lowlanders,” Relth replied shortly. “None of us like them. You know that.”

  Korram didn’t miss the fact that she had said “them” not “you”. It was encouraging to catch the hint that she no longer thought of him in the same way as other Lowlanders.

  “But the rest of you don’t treat me the way he does,” Korram pointed out. “Not anymore.”

  “Well, my cousin has extra reason to hate Lowlanders.” Thorst glanced sidelong at Korram, perhaps debating whether or not to tell him something. He nodded to himself, apparently deciding he would.

  “Ernth has a friend named Otchen. Two years ago when they were traveling together, Otchen’s sister was killed by a Lowlander.”

  “What, murdered in cold blood?” Korram was startled. Farmers and miners in the foothills often complained of Mountain Folk raiding their crops or cheating them in trade, and occasionally he heard reports of an actual attack. Korram had always assumed there was another side to the ongoing conflict that didn’t get told down in the city, so it didn’t surprise him to hear of Lowlanders mistreating Mountain Folk. But murder?

  “Ernth was wounded too,” Thorst went on, “and the Lowlanders stole their entire flock of goats.”

  Korram winced. He knew now how crucial goats were to the Mountain Folk’s way of life. Aside from the milk that they drank twice a day and used in cooking, the family had talked of how they would roast and dry goat meat to last them through the winter; and he knew they made many of their clothes and other supplies from goatskin or goat leather. He could imagine what an overwhelming loss an entire flock of goats would be. “That’s awful,” he exclaimed, “both about the girl and the goats.”

  “Yes.” His jaw clenched and eyes far away, Thorst picked up a stick and snapped it in two, then viciously broke the pieces in half again. “The family almost starved that winter. Ernth was awfully thin even by the next Mid-Autumn when he joined us again.”

  “When we heard what had happened, of course we were all upset,” his wife put in. “But Ernth holds all Lowlanders to blame.”

  “That’s awful,” Korram repeated inadequately. “I mean, not just what happened, but that the Lowlanders got away with it. People can’t just treat each other like that in Malorn. We have laws! Whoever did it should have gone on trial for murder and stock theft and maybe been executed, or at least sent to prison.”

  Thorst laughed bitterly. “We’ve learned long ago that no one down there cares what happens to us.”

  “The authorities must just not have known about it,” suggested Korram, though he had a feeling the man was right.

  “What happened to Otchen’s family wasn’t an isolated incident,” Relth told him softly, fingering the carvings in the wooden shaft of her spear. “Your people often steal from us or cheat us, and even murder isn’t all that unusual.”

  Korram jumped to his feet angrily. “Well, when I’m king, I’ll put an end to such things! There will be no more mistreating Mountain Folk and getting away with it. The laws will be enforced, and anyone who steals or murders will pay the consequences!”

  Together, the other two rose to their feet. “You could do that?” Thorst said slowly. They were both staring at him.

  “Well, yes. At least, when I’m king.” He looked at them. “What is it?”

  “You could actually change the way they treat us? The way things have always been between our people and Lowlanders?” There was disbelief in Relth’s voice, but a note of hope as well.

  “It wouldn’t happen overnight, but yes, I can make things change,” Korram told her. He thought fast. “I can appoint regional authorities in the foothill towns to govern how the townsfolk interact with your people. And if anyone does mistreat you, you could report it at the local office and the offenders would be dealt with. They’d have to pay restitution. Of course, you’d have to be fair in your interactions with the Lowlanders, or they could report you too.”

  They were still staring at him. “You could really change things for us?” Thorst repeated. “Just like that?”

  “Well, this isn’t just anyone you’re talking to. I am the Prince of Malorn,” Korram couldn’t resist pointing out a little smugly.

  Thorst and Relth looked at each other and then back at him. They seemed to be having trouble finding words. Finally, Thorst burst out, “Well, if you have that kind of power over people, why didn’t you tell us when you first came? If you can really help us that way, of course we’ll be willing to help you!”

  Now Korram was momentarily
startled into silence. All his worrying, all the arguments he had tried so hard to think up – and it was as easy as this?

  “So … you believe some of your people would be willing to be part of my army?” he finally questioned. “If I tell them how I can bring about justice for the Mountain Folk?”

  Relth laughed. “Our people would do almost anything if it meant not having to deal with the usual problems every time we travel through Lowlander areas. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been threatened or hurt by them. When we buy or trade for the supplies we need, they almost always try to cheat or rob us. Anyone who can put a stop to all that would be a hero worth following.”

  “Then I’m going to be that hero,” Korram exclaimed, his eyes alight with excitement. “I should have thought of that before!”

  “So when will you do this?” Thorst demanded eagerly.

  “Well, I can’t become king until early next year, when I turn eighteen. Then it will be the first thing I’ll do!” Assuming there aren’t any Rampus-related complications. Korram hesitated, wondering how much it was safe to tell them. But Trayven was far from here, presumably on his way back to Sazellia by now. Perhaps the time had come to explain himself more fully.

  “The trouble is, there’s a man named Rampus who doesn’t want me to be king,” he told them, choosing his words carefully. “I’m afraid he’s going to try to kill me so he can be the highest ruler. He already killed my father, or at least I’m nearly certain he did. That’s why I want to recruit a Mountain Folk army. You see, most of the regular Malornian military is on Rampus’s side. He’s fooled almost everyone into thinking that he’s just passing on orders from me. But really he does almost anything he wants, and he’s controlling most of Malorn in one way or another. There are a lot of government officials, wealthy businessmen, and military officers who have their positions because of him, and they know he could bring them down if they ever withdrew their support. I’m pretty sure a lot of the officers, especially, are being paid big bonuses under the table with money Rampus gets from illegally high gold taxes. I mean, it’s hard to prove exactly who’s profiting from the extra few percent I know they charge at some of the gold offices, but that’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do.”

  Korram stopped for breath and realized that the two Mountain Folk were staring at him blankly. He had gotten carried away and had forgotten they wouldn’t understand most of what he was talking about.

  “Rampus is ruthless,” he began again, trying to think of examples that would mean something to them. “Terrible things happen to people who oppose him: they suffer unlikely accidents, their businesses fail, their family members die, or they just disappear, never to be heard from again. I don’t want a person like that in charge of my kingdom. He would force all of Malorn to do everything he wanted or else.

  “Anyway,” Korram concluded, “that’s why I need an army. To protect me and defeat his forces. Otherwise I won’t be likely even to make it to my eighteenth birthday, and I’ll never become king, and I’ll never be able to protect Malorn from him or change the way Lowlanders treat Mountain Folk. Rampus doesn’t care about your people; he certainly wouldn’t do anything to help you. But once he’s out of the way, I will.”

  “That part makes sense,” agreed Relth. She turned to her husband. “Our people join an army to help Korram become king, and then he helps us against the Lowlanders. It would be a fair trade, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, if people had reason to believe he’d really do it.” Thorst frowned. “It isn’t enough just to say you can and will. You’ll have to prove it!”

  “But how? I don’t have the power to make laws yet.”

  The two didn’t seem to understand what that meant. “Come with us the next time we go to buy something,” Thorst suggested. “Make the Lowlanders treat us fairly.”

  That shouldn’t be too hard once they realize who I am. “All right,” Korram agreed readily. “If I show you I can do it, will you tell me how to talk to more of your people about this?”

  “We’ll have to consult the rest of the family about that first,” Thorst replied. “But I think this time they’ll agree that we should. We’ll vote on it tonight and let you know tomorrow.”

  “And in the meantime,” Relth put in, “we’ve stood around chatting long enough. You never know when a hungry snowcat or wolf could be lurking in the bushes hoping for goat for supper.” She bent to pick up the baby, who had been cooing happily and playing with his chubby toes, and handed him to his father. “It’s your turn to carry him.”

  Without the usual tasks to fill Korram’s time, the day seemed to drag on longer than most. He paced back and forth across his section of the meadow as instructed, keeping one eye on the goats and the other alert for signs of movement in the brush beyond. No predators showed their faces, however, and after long hours out on the hillside, Thorst finally pronounced it time to head back.

  The sun had set by the time they started down into the valley which even Korram had begun to consider home away from home. As they approached, he could smell wood smoke on the breeze, as he had the evening he and Trayven had arrived. The savory aroma of roast waterfowl soon began to tantalize his nostrils, which was frustrating because he knew he would get none of it. He would be preparing his own supper tonight – fish, probably. How long would it take him to catch, clean, and cook enough for a meal? Long enough for him to grow ravenous in the meantime, he was sure.

  Korram frowned, suddenly disoriented. For an instant he thought they were in the wrong valley, that some other Mountain Folk family was camped on the opposite slope. But no, those were the same six goatskin tents pitched in a circle with the campfire in the same spot beside them. But where was his camp? Yes, Trayven was supposed to be gone, but where was Korram’s tent, and his pack, and his mule?

  A cold spike of alarm stabbed through Korram. “Something’s wrong,” he blurted out.

  Thorst, who was in the lead this time, turned around with a puzzled look on his face. “Where’s the other Lowlander?”

  “I told him to go home, but he was supposed to leave my things here.” Korram peered right and left, scanning the valley. “It’s all gone,” he exclaimed in disbelief, and he could hear the rising anger in his own voice.

  “Lowlanders do tend to be thieves,” Relth observed matter-of-factly from behind him. “Did you trust the man?”

  “Well, not really,” Korram admitted, wishing the goats would walk a little faster so he could check and see if Trayven was still anywhere in the area. “I knew he must be working for Rampus, but I never thought he’d actually steal from me.”

  They stopped to let the animals drink from the stream again before splashing across and hiking up the opposite slope. At last the three of them arrived at camp, with its flickering fire, roasting meat, and the cheerful voices of the Mountain Folk family busily preparing supper. Korram pushed through the milling goats and took off running toward the place where his tent should have been.

  Sure enough, there was nothing there. Korram whirled around and around in disbelief, searching for anything the servant might have left. All he found were two rectangular bare patches in the grass where the tents had stood and the little circle of ash and charred sticks from their fire. And there were mule droppings beneath the tree where they had tethered the three animals, but that was all.

  His heart pounding in both fury and the beginnings of panic, Korram sprinted back to the Mountain Folk camp. “Trayven’s robbed me!” he exclaimed, bursting in among them as they began to pass around the milking flasks. “When did he leave? Did any of you notice which direction he went?”

  They all looked up in surprise – more at his manner than at his news, Korram thought.

  “He left early this morning,” replied Ernth. “You didn’t know? He told us he was following your instructions.”

  “I told him to leave. I didn’t tell him to take all my things with him!” Korram was livid. “Where did he go?”

  “How shoul
d I know that?” Ernth retorted. “And why should I care? I just saw him pack up the mules and head back in the direction you two came from.”

  “And you didn’t stop him?” Korram exploded. “You just let him take all my things – my money, my tent, my sword, my fishing gear, my tools, my clothes, my mule? You saw him take it all, and you didn’t say anything?” Though he knew the servant’s dishonesty wasn’t Ernth’s fault, his anger needed a target, and Trayven was out of reach.

  “Why would I have wanted to stop him?” demanded Ernth. “One less Lowlander in our valley is one less problem in our lives.”

  Korram let out his breath in a roar of exasperation and slammed his fists against his thighs. “Can I borrow a horse?” he pleaded to the camp in general. “Maybe I can catch him.”

  “No one borrows our horses,” declared Chun flatly, turning to look up from the goat he had just started to milk. “We hardly lend them to each other, much less Lowlanders.”

  Korram whirled around in frustration and began to run uphill, dodging trees, stumbling and tripping over rocks and brush. The evening was overcast, and dusk was falling, so it was hard to see his footing. It took much longer to get to the top than he remembered, and he was damp with sweat in spite of the cold evening by the time he finally stood panting at the summit.

  Snow-clad peaks stared down at him from every side. Before him, the next valley spread out dark and silent. Breathing hard, Korram strained his eyes, peering this way and that. But there was no sign of movement anywhere below; no telltale twinkle of a campfire. Trayven was nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter 6

  Korram’s frustration and anger bubbled over and he roared in wordless fury. Bending to pick up a rock, he hurled it as hard as he could down the slope before him. “You won’t get away with this, Trayven,” he bellowed into the dimness. Seizing two more rocks, he flung them one after the other. “You’ll be sorry you robbed me! You’ll regret it the rest of your life!” Though the servant was surely far beyond earshot, Korram kept yelling till he was hoarse, kept throwing rocks at nothing until he couldn’t find any more nearby to pick up.