Prince of Malorn (Annals of Alasia Book 3)

by Annie Douglass Lima

  He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, weeping in the dark with only the rustling of pine needles for company, the icy winter breeze stinging his wet cheeks. But gradually the sobs tapered off, leaving him drained and exhausted. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep tonight after all.

  When he heard footsteps approaching, Korram hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve and sat up. Thankful he had brought his spear, he reached for it warily.

  “Korram, is that you over there?” The voice was Thel’s. He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that it wasn’t an enemy or – almost as bad – Ernth, who would probably have made fun of him in this state.

  Thel knelt by his side. “I thought I saw you come this way.” He wasn’t sure if she could tell he had been crying, but she wrapped a sympathetic arm around his shoulders. She was warm, and he was still shivering, so he put an arm around her too. There in the darkness together it didn’t seem awkward.

  “I guess you wanted to be alone. I’m sorry to disturb you,” she murmured after a moment.

  “You’re not disturbing me,” he told her, embarrassed that his voice caught a little. He took a slow, deep breath, trying to bury any lingering sobs.

  “I feel awful tonight too,” she confided. “Layth and so many others died, and I’m dreading telling their families at the next Mid-Autumn Gathering. Lots of people were wounded, some of them so badly I’m not sure if they’ll recover. And I-” She swallowed hard and he felt her shudder. “I actually killed people. I never really thought I’d have to, even after all our practice and everything Sergeant Sanjik taught us. I never imagined I’d really end a person’s life, but –”

  Korram realized that she was crying now as well. Instinctively he turned and wrapped his other arm around her too, pulling her close.

  “I guess I’m not a good soldier,” Thel whispered, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. “I’m not as brave as I thought. It feels awful, what I did. I washed my hands four times this evening, and I even scrubbed them with sand from the streambed, but it still feels as though there’s blood all over them.”

  “You are brave, Thel,” Korram whispered back, trying to reassure her. “You were braver than I felt through most of the battle. You did what you had to do, and you saved my life, remember? I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been such a good soldier – such a good friend.”

  “I suppose.” Thel sniffed. “It was worth it to save your life and help you be king. But I hope I’ll never have to do anything like this again.” She pulled back just far enough to wipe her tears away and then wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder once more.

  For a moment they both just knelt there in the cold dirt, taking comfort from the closeness. Korram’s heart thumped as odd feelings stirred inside him, and he didn’t want to let go. But finally Thel gave a long, shaky sigh and broke the silence.

  “Anyway, we should get back to camp. I almost forgot: I came to tell you that Sergeant Sanjik is looking for you.”

  “Really?” Korram frowned into the darkness, reluctantly releasing her. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. He sent one of the Lowlander soldiers around to every campfire asking people if they knew where you were.”

  “I’d better go find out what he wants.” Korram clambered to his feet, reaching down to help Thel up before he remembered that the Mountain Folk didn’t use courteous gestures like that. But perhaps Thel had learned a few things from her brief visits to the palace; she accepted his hand and rose to her feet as gracefully as Kalendria would have.

  Back in the clearing, they were directed to the campfire by which Sanjik stood talking to General Dorralon. Korram was startled to see Jeskie’s small form standing between the two officers. He frowned. The boy was supposed to have gone back to Sazellia with Lieutenant Togan. Korram had sent him to tell Mother and Kalendria how things had turned out and to let them know that he was all right. Why was the boy disobeying orders again?

  “There you are, Sire,” exclaimed Jeskie as Korram and Thel approached. The men paused in their conversation and turned toward him too, their faces grave.

  “What’s going on?” Korram demanded. In the firelight, he suddenly noticed the bruises on Jeskie’s face – bruises that hadn’t been there a few hours ago. “What happened to you?”

  “Regent Rampus escaped,” confessed Jeskie, his voice full of shame. “I tried to stop them, your Highness, but I couldn’t.”

  “Escaped?” repeated Korram and Thel together. “How?”

  “It was dark,” the boy explained, “and we were still travelin’ through the forest; then another man I didn’t recognize suddenly rode up to us. The regent seemed to know him, and I could tell Togan was expectin’ him, ’cause as soon as he saw the fellow he suddenly reached over and cut the ropes ’round the regent’s wrists. A few o’ the men with him looked surprised, but some musta been expectin’ it too. Before I knew what was happenin’, Togan and Rampus and the other man had galloped off into the trees together, and the soldiers who tried to go after ’em ended up fightin’ the ones who must of been on the regent’s side. I tried to ride after ’em, too, while the others were busy; but one of ’em reached out as I was passin’ and hit me in the face with his shield.” Jeskie looked embarrassed. “I sort of – well – fell off the horse the general had loaned me, and by the time I caught her and got back on, I couldn’t tell where those three had gone. So I left the others still fightin’ and rode back here fast as I could to tell you.”

  “We trusted Togan,” exclaimed Thel, distressed. “How could he do this?”

  “And who was that other man?” Sanjik murmured.

  Korram ran a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t matter at this point. The important thing is, Rampus is on the loose. He can’t go back to Sazellia, though; not now that people finally know what he tried to do. So where should we look for him?”

  “I imagine he’ll disguise himself and go into hiding somewhere,” the general replied grimly. “Togan or that unknown friend of his may have prepared a place for him in a small town; perhaps in the mountains. We could search for years and never find them.”

  “And meanwhile, he’ll bide his time and plot,” Korram predicted. “He won’t give up his dreams to rule the kingdom; not if I know Rampus. Perhaps he’ll try to recruit followers and gradually build his power base back up again. One way or another, we haven’t seen the last of him. I’m certain of that.”

  “But it will likely be the last of him for a long time,” the general assured them all. “A return to power will not be easy for Rampus once the whole kingdom knows the truth. You should have plenty of time to establish yourself as king, Sire; to gain the loyalty of your people and strengthen your government against any future attempts on your throne.”

  Useless though it would probably be, Korram gave the order to send search parties through the woods. This is not the ending I wanted for this day, he thought grumpily as he and Thel returned to their own platoon. And after everything I went through to capture him!

  Two days later, Korram and Sanjik stood with the surviving Mountain Folk soldiers on a hill overlooking their training ground. They had just finished burying their dead in one large grave and covering it over with dirt and boulders. Those who wanted to had spoken about their friends and relatives, telling the rest what they had liked most about them and how much they would be missed. Thel had carefully drawn the story of the battle on a large white signboard with paints Sanjik had bought in Sazellia. She had spent hours beforehand practicing with the unfamiliar liquids until she was satisfied she could use them properly. Sanjik’s supply wagon – the only other accessible object with wide, flat surfaces – was now the best decorated wagon in Malorn.

  The funeral over, Korram decided it was time to change the tone of his army’s last gathering. He had already made a short speech praising those who had sacrificed their lives, thanking the survivors for their service, and congratulating them all on how much they had learned and accomplished. Now he steppe
d to the front of the crowd again and waved his arms to get their attention.

  Almost immediately, the murmured conversations hushed. Korram smiled to think of how long that would have taken just a few short months ago.

  “There are two more things we have to take care of before we say our goodbyes,” he told them. “First, Sergeant Sanjik deserves proper recognition for all he has done. He risked his life and left his family for several moons to come and train us. I’m sure we all agree that if it hadn’t been for him, none of us would have survived the battle.”

  There were nods of agreement and cries of, “That’s right,” and “Thank you, Sergeant.” Before Korram could go on, a couple of Mountain Folk near the front of the crowd stepped forward and threw their arms around the startled officer. That seemed to inspire the rest, and in a moment others were crowding around, waiting their turn to embrace him.

  Korram stifled a laugh at the sight of Sanjik’s shocked expression. The sergeant had surely never imagined being hugged by the men and women under his command; in the Lowlands such an act would have been unthinkable. But the officer had learned enough about Mountain Folk culture to allow it with a good grace, and after the first surprise was over, he even managed to smile and pat a few backs in return.

  When the crowd had settled down again, Korram turned to Sanjik himself. “Allow me to express my appreciation more formally. Step over here, please, and kneel.”

  Sanjik did as he was told, his face politely expressionless now, though he could surely guess what was coming.

  Korram drew himself up, trying to recall the official words he had heard used by military officers at promotion ceremonies before. Well, he was the prince; he had the right to adjust the script a little if he chose. The Mountain Folk certainly wouldn’t know the difference. I should probably look up the proper words before I do this for Captain Ebbrem tomorrow, though.

  “Sergeant Sanjik,” he began. “For your loyal service to our kingdom and its rightful ruler in the face of hardship and danger, and by the authority vested in me as crown prince of Malorn, I hereby promote you to the rank of lieutenant.” He reached in his pocket for the little cloth strips he had remembered to procure when they had stopped by the palace yesterday. “Rise, Lieutenant Sanjik, receive the stripes of your rank, and wear them with honor as evidence to all of your new position in the service of your prince and kingdom.”

  Sanjik rose to his feet, bowed, and accepted the green stripes that he would soon have sewn onto the cuffs of his uniform sleeves in place of the current yellow ones. “Thank you, my lord. It’s been an honor to serve you in this way.”

  That would normally have been the cue for a round of applause, but the Mountain Folk were exchanging puzzled glances, uncertain what had just happened.

  “Why would he want those green ribbons?” someone wondered aloud. “His hair is too short to tie back.”

  “What exactly did Korram just do to him? Is it something good?” someone else questioned.

  Korram turned to the audience. “A promotion is a very good thing! It’s a reward for all Sanjik has done for us. It means he’ll have a position of greater responsibility now – and of course higher pay along with it.”

  There was a chorus of “Ohh”s as understanding dawned, followed by belated cheers.

  “And speaking of pay,” Korram went on, “I promised all of you that you’d be paid fairly for your service in my army.” He strode over to the wagon, parked nearby, and reached in to pull out one of the two hundred forty small cloth bags. It jingled as he tossed it from hand to hand. “This is the same amount a first-year soldier in the Lowlands would be paid for working as long as you have. There’s a bag for each of you, including those who didn’t survive. Their salary will go to their families. If they have no family members here, I’ll trust some of you who were their friends to take it to their closest relatives at the next Mid-Autumn Gathering. Corporals, please come up and collect twelve bags each to distribute to your platoons.”

  The little pouches were handed out, and the hillside erupted with cries of delight when the Mountain Folk opened them and saw the gold and silver coins inside. There was immediate discussion over where they could buy goats so they would have milk for the rest of the winter, and what other supplies – including the Lowlander foods they had grown accustomed to – they might be able to purchase from nearby farms or towns.

  “I bought this for you in Sazellia yesterday,” Korram heard Sanjik say in an aside to Ernth, and the new lieutenant reached into his jacket pocket and handed over a different kind of bag. “A gift like this wouldn’t really be proper protocol in the Lowlands, but things are different up here, and you saved my life, after all.”

  Ernth grinned. “So you did notice.” He sniffed at the bag and his grin widened. “Coffee!”

  “Yes, and it’s already ground, so you just have to brew it,” the officer told him. “Here’s some sugar, too. Now, you’ll need a pot of boiling water ….”

  Korram left them to their discussion and strolled through the camp, watching as Mountain Folk debated what they should do with their money and began the tasks of taking down tents and bundling up their possessions. They were all leaving today, to find grazing for their horses elsewhere in the foothills and return to their nomadic lifestyle. Most had already decided who would be traveling with whom based on who was sharing tents or other supplies. The goodbyes would come soon, but at least they would all see each other again at the next Mid-Autumn Gathering.

  All except Korram.

  He climbed a little way up the rocky slope and sat down on a granite boulder where he had a view of the whole camp and the plain beyond. I should get going soon. After all, he had promised Mother and Kalendria he would be back by tonight. He fiddled with the ring he was wearing once more, thinking of the future it represented. But he just didn’t feel ready to leave. He couldn’t bring himself to mount Clinja and ride away from these people who had become the closest friends he had ever had.

  Thel broke away from the group and climbed the slope to join him, her eyes sober. “I suppose you have to go in a moment, don’t you?” Before he could reply, her arms were around him, clasping him tightly, as though she could keep him there forever. He hugged her back, a lump growing in his throat as he tried to imagine what it would be like never to see her again. But then Thel pulled away, laughing and wincing. “Ow! Your snowcat teeth are biting into my neck.”

  “Sorry.” On an impulse, Korram reached back and untied the necklace he had been so proud of. “Here. Take this to remember me by.”

  Thel drew back, shaking her head. “I can’t wear that! I wasn’t the one who killed the snowcat.”

  Was this another of those Mountain Folk customs he still hadn’t learned? “Just keep it for me for a while, then,” Korram suggested, wanting her to have something of his. “Carry it with you and think of me when you see it. Please.” He wanted to know that she would think of him now and then.

  Thel reached for the necklace, her fingers lingering on his. “I’ll just keep it until you come back. I’ll save it for you.”

  Korram swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he would probably never be back. “I’m going to become king, Thel. I’ll be very busy from now on.”

  “But I’ll see you at the Mid-Autumn Gathering, at least.” Her voice held defiance, as though daring him to say he wouldn’t be there.

  The Gathering. How long would it take to get to Gathering Valley and back from Sazellia? He couldn’t very well bring Lowlander guards with him, but it wouldn’t be safe for a king to cross Malorn by himself, let alone abandon his responsibilities for that long. Especially not with a High Council full of ambitious men who could be doing who-knew-what to the kingdom in his absence.

  But Korram looked into Thel’s hopeful eyes and couldn’t tell her so. And – his throat tightened at the thought – he definitely couldn’t tell her that a king someday had to marry a woman who would make a good queen. A woma
n who would spend the rest of her life in the city with him, helping him rule the kingdom and manage the affairs of state, plan formal events and raise royal children.

  “Maybe,” he told her finally, looking away. “Maybe I’ll come to the Gathering again one of these years. And in the meantime, I suppose you could always come visit me in Sazellia.”

  Thel brightened. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Of course not.” Why hadn’t he thought of that before? There was no reason they couldn’t stay friends, after all. “You’d be welcome to come any time and stay as long as you like.”

  She grinned. “Well, I promised my family I’d try to find them over in the south as soon as the army was done helping you. But I’ll tell them what you said, and then maybe we can all take a trip down to the Lowlands. I’d like to show my brothers and sisters what it’s like in the city and in your palace. And at the next Gathering, I’ll tell all our people that they’re welcome too.”

  “Please do. I’d love to have any of the Mountain Folk come and visit.” Then it won’t feel quite as though I’m leaving part of myself behind forever. “If they’re not comfortable coming indoors, they can camp in the palace pasture.”

  Thel tucked the necklace into the pocket of her tunic. “Well, then we’ll definitely see each other again one way or another. Besides, we did meet on the Rite of Acceptance, after all.” She looked up and held his gaze for a long moment, and he found himself wondering if her eyes had always been that shade of warm gray-brown. She smiled at the way he was gazing into them, and Korram felt his cheeks grow warm.

  “What does that mean, anyway?” he inquired to cover his awkwardness as he looked away. “That we met on the Rite of Acceptance. Nobody’s ever told me.”

  Thel giggled. “You really don’t know?”

  “I really don’t.” Was it his imagination, or was she starting to blush too? “Are you going to tell me?”