Ascendant

by Craig Alanson

  Koren's hand flew to a knife, then he relaxed. The voice was a man's, the words somewhat slurred. Now Koren knew where the smell of whiskey had come from. "Sorry. Did I step on you?" He whispered back.

  "No. You not here to steal anything, are you? Don't want any trouble."

  "I'm not here to steal anything." Koren said she settled down against the wall. "I'm only, taking a rest."

  The man laughed softly. "Those soldiers outside wouldn't have anything to do with it, would they? Don't worry about me, I won't say anything. You look like a young feller, I headed out on my own too, when I was about your age."

  Koren wasn't sure what to say, but somehow he trusted this man, whose face he still couldn't see. "I just don't want any trouble. I've caused enough trouble already." He added, without meaning to speak the words aloud.

  "Aye, know what you mean, I been there myself. Been there myself." The man repeated his words, and there was a slurping sound, with a strong scent of whiskey. "Long time ago, that was, long time ago. Caused a lot of trouble, hurt about everyone close to me. I was in the army, I was, had a wife, and a little girl. But, I took to drink, and can't shake it. They're better off without me." Another slurping sound. "Better off without me around, they are."

  Sitting in the dark, dusty warehouse, listening to the drunken man tell his sad tale, Koren pulled his knees up to his chest, and thought he had never felt so low in his life. Where was he going to go? And why? To run away forever? His curse would follow him wherever he went, hurt anyone around him. What kind of life was he running toward?

  "A good soldier I was, back then." The man said, as if he needed to fill the silence with words. Maybe he felt as lonely and hopeless as Koren did right then. "Was a sergeant in Grand General Daruck's personal guard, under the old king, way back that was. Too many battles, too many friends lost. Seen," his voice trailed off, "seen, seen too much. Too much death. So, I found comfort in the bottle. What about you? You hurt someone, you didn't mean to hurt?"

  "Sort of. Yes." Koren found himself answering. It was easier to tell a stranger in the darkness about his sins, easier to tell a man whose face he couldn't see, a man he didn't know, a man he probably would never meet again. "My parents, first. They're-" there was a catch in his throat, "they're good people. They deserved better than me."

  In the darkness, the man reached over and patted Koren's shoulder. "Don't you worry about it, lad. They're your parents, they love you, they've forgiven you, whatever you think you did. Anyone else? A girl? I'll bet there was a girl."

  Koren let out a long sigh. Tried to kill the princess, the guards had said about him. Tried, meant Ariana was alive, his curse had not killed her. "There was a girl, not my girl. She's too good for the likes of me." Did Ariana know now that his curse had brought the bear to attack her, made her almost drown in the river, made a stone knock her down, almost kill her? Was she now regretting the day she invited him to live in the castle? Better that Duke Yarron had locked him in the dungeon as a poacher and a bandit, than that he be set free, to cause her nothing but trouble?

  "You're young, whatever you did, you can learn from it, and make it up to them."

  Koren choked on a laugh. He was cursed by God. There would be no making up for that, no way, as the priest had told him, to make it go away. "It's too late for that."

  The two sat silent for a while, listening to the sounds on the docks outside; lots of shouting and cursing from sailors, sounds of things banging and knocking into each other as the sailors loaded a barge for a trip downriver.

  "Where you going from here?" The man broke the silence.

  "I don't know. I really don't." He truly had no idea where to go. Glumly, he considered traveling west, if he could get across the river without being caught or killed by the army. West, toward the Acedor border and war? Change his name, cut his hair, hire on with the army of some local baron, try to do something useful with his life, even if it meant constant war? No, that was a terrible idea. With his curse, the last thing Tarador's army needed was a jinx fighting on their side.

  "Hmm. If I was a young feller like you, running away from my troubles, why, I'd head out to sea, to seek my fortune. Get on a barge downriver, to the sea, and sign on aboard a ship bound for other lands. Go to the exotic South Islands, if you like, where fruit hangs from every tree, and all the girls are pretty!" He chuckled to himself.

  "Really?" Going to sea wasn't something Koren had considered. Could he do that? A ship could take him far, far away from Tarador, far away to lands where no one was hunting him, no one knew him, no one knew about his jinx.

  "Well, I don't know as to myself, never been there, but-"

  "No, not the South Islands, I mean, I could go aboard a ship, as a sailor? I've never been to sea before."

  "Why, sure you could. Merchant ship're always looking for able-bodied men, lots of sailors jump ship when they get to port and get their pay." And too many of them spent their pay on drink, the man thought to himself. "You got any skills?"

  Koren thought for a minute. "I'm good with a blade, and a bow." As he said the words, he suddenly wondered if his magical skills would go away, now that he was no longer servant to the wizard. "And, and, I'm good with horses."

  "Huh. Well, not much use for any of that on a ship, unless you're in pirate territory, and I suggest you avoid that. Good pay, not worth the coin, if you ask me. Anything else you can do?"

  "Uh, well, I lived on a farm. I, uh, I don't know." What kind of work did sailors do aboard a ship? "Um, I can cook?"

  "You can? Where'd you learn that?"

  "I, uh," Koren hesitated to say too much, "I was a servant for a rich man, a, uh, a merchant, and he liked foods from his homeland, Stade? So I learned to cook the kind of foods he liked. But, I can cook regular food, too. Taradoran food, I mean."

  "That's good, that's good, a good cook makes for a happy crew, that's for sure. If you go, look for a ship flying the Estadan flag, it's red with a white circle and a black star. You speak any of their lingo?"

  Koren shrugged. "A few words, not much."

  "Can't speak a word of it, myself. Don't hold with strange foreign talk."

  "How, uh, how would I get there, to the sea?"

  "I'd duck aboard a barge, if I was going. Plenty of barges headed downriver out there," he pointed toward the docks, "sneak aboard one. This time of year, with the spring flood, they're overloaded with cargo, because the water's deep. And with the moonlight tonight, they'll be leaving soon as they're loaded, not wait till morning. The next stop is about a day downriver, so you need to get off and swim to shore, before they start messing with the cargo again. You can swim?"

  "Yeah." Koren was reminded that the last time he went swimming was in the river with Ariana. The more the man talked, the more the idea of going downriver sounded like a good idea. Down the river, find a ship, and leave Tarador behind. Leave his life behind. Start over, somewhere new. Somewhere so far away that people could not have heard of his jinx. Maybe, so far away that he could leave his curse behind? Why not? "Yes. I'll do that, thank you." Peeking out the window, he saw only a few people at the docks, and the clanging, banging and cursing noises of a barge being loaded had died down. Was a barge getting ready to leave, soon? "Any advice on how to get aboard one of these barges?"

  The man snorted. "If I did something like that, I'd go up to the front of this warehouse, the front of the building is on the dock, over the water. There's a couple floorboards loose, if you know where to look, you can climb down under the pier, get into the water, and up the side of a barge. Loaded the way they are, they're low in the water, and there's netting on the sides." The man raised a bottle to his lips, then looked at the bottle, put the cork back in it, and set it down. "Aaah, I've had too much of that tonight already." He spat on the floor, then rose unsteadily to his feet. "You seem like a good feller, I'll show you where it is. Stay behind me and move real quiet like, and keep your head down."

  They had to squeeze between stacked crates and pil
es of grain sacks to get to the middle of the warehouse, the man had to lean on crates, and then on Koren, to keep from falling down. Koren wasn't sure which smell was stronger; the musty, dusty warehouse, or the whiskey on the man's breath. With the only light coming from one half-closed door facing the river, Koren slid his feet along the floor, feeling for objects they might trip over. When they got near the door, the man put a finger to his lips, so Koren would be extra quiet, then pointed to the right with a shaky hand. When the floorboard squeaked under Koren's foot, the man gripped his arm, and they both froze. "Quiet! It's right here." He whispered. As the man tried to get down on his knees, he fell and rolled clumsily onto his right side. "Ah, don't you ever start drinking, young man, it'll be the death of me yet." He pushed himself onto his knees, and felt around the edges of the boards, until he was able to get fingernails caught on one, and lift it up. The other three boards were easy to remove, and Koren peered down to see dark water splashing around thick log pilings which supported the floor of the warehouse. Boards had been attached to the piling next to the gap in the floor, forming a rough ladder.

  "That's how I get in here, to keep out of the weather." The man said, pride in his voice. "Hurry now, if that barge is done loading, a guard will be coming by to check this place soon."

  Koren stared at the water below, at the uneven boards nailed to the piling, at the darkness. That way lay his future; to run, to hide, to leave his country behind, to forever deny who he is. "I don't-"

  The man patted him on the shoulder. "The first step is always the hardest, is what I've found. After that, it gets easier."

  That was something Koren's father had often said. Especially when he wanted Koren to do something hard, something that would take all day, like plowing a field. Something hard, like leaving everything he had ever known behind. Hard, because it was the right thing to do, the best way to protect the people he cared about. "All right." He heard himself saying, and stepped carefully down onto the first board of the ladder, before he could change his mind. The board wobbled a bit, but held his weight. When he climbed down enough that only his head was above the floor, he looked up at the man, whose face he could barely see, except for the man's scraggly beard. Pulling a silver coin out of his pocket, Koren pressed it between his finger and thumb, wishing it would bring the man some good luck, to turn his life around. The coin seemed to grow warm. "Here, take this."

  "Oh, I can't take your money." The man protested.

  "It was given to me, I can give it to you."

  The man held the coin up to the poor light, Koren could just see his eyes open wide as the man realized he had been given a gold coin, not a common copper piece. "Well, bless you, young man. And, good luck to you, wherever you may go."

  "Yes, Your Highness?" Paedris asked, standing at the door to his tower, more than slightly flustered at finding the crown princess waiting for him. He was still feeling very weak, even walking down the stairs to answer the call at the door was an effort that had left him slightly out of breath.

  "I wanted to thank you for healing me," Ariana answered, unconsciously moving her right shoulder blade, where the stone had hit her and knocked her to the flagstones of the courtyard. "I brought chicken soup," she said as she held up a large silver tureen, her arms shaking. The tureen was solid silver, part of the royal dinnerware, and it was heavy by itself. Filled with soup, Ariana had to hug it to her chest to keep from dropping it.

  Paedris saw her distress, and tactfully said "Why, thank you, Your Highness. Perhaps your guard could carry the soup, while you help an old man up the stairs."

  Ariana blushed, and silently mouthed 'thank you', with a wink to the wizard. Paedris held onto her arm lightly, he truly did need help climbing the two flights of stairs up to the chamber that had been built for a wizard to receive guests. In the years Paedris had been living there, he had few guests other than other wizards, and the occasional army captain or general. The chamber had never been fancy, and now it was quite simply a mess. Rather than climb more stairs, Paedris had requested his bed be moved down here, and with Koren gone, the chamber was not being cleaned regularly. Servants from the palace were sent every couple days, but none of them liked being in the forbidding tower, and left as quickly as they could, after hurriedly tidying up. Paedris sat down in an over-stuffed chair, and waved toward the table. "Set it down there, good man."

  The guard frowned when he saw the table, already overloaded with old plates, bowls, mugs, scrolls and cutlery. Ariana scooped up an armful of dirty dishes, and set them on the floor. When the guard had placed the soup tureen on the table, she dismissed him. "You may leave us, wait in the courtyard."

  The guard lifted an eyebrow in surprise. The crown princess was never supposed to be alone with a man, she always was accompanied by a guard, or a maid. Always. "Your Highness-" The guard began to protest.

  "You may leave us, now." Ariana insisted, in a voice of command that belonged only to a crown princess, with no trace of the young girl. Paedris rose halfway out of his chair, and gave the guard his best intimidating wizardly glare. The guard might have stood his ground against a fourteen year old girl, princess or not, but wizards were not to be messed with. The guard had seen the charred remains of the assassin, after Paedris had risen from his sickbed to chase the assassin across the rooftops, and blast the man from Acedor into a crispy cinder. Bowing deeply to both princess and wizard, the guard backed out of the room, and from the sound his boots made, fairly ran down the stairs.

  Ariana found two clean bowls and spoons, and served the soup, before sitting in a chair across from the wizard. Paedris, although he had been around the royal Trehaymes since Ariana's father was a little boy, couldn't remember ever having a royal person act as a dinner servant. He wasn't really in the mood for chicken soup, but so as not to offend the princess, he took a spoonful, and exclaimed in surprise "This is chicken fortana soup! How did you, where-"

  "I had the kitchens make it for you, there is a man from Stade who works in the stables, his wife gave the cooks her recipe. Is it good?" Ariana had feared the cooks in the royal kitchens, who had been skeptical about making exotic foreign food, had gotten it wrong. To her, the soup tasted good, a bit too spicy for a girl raised on bland Taradoran food, but good.

  "Good! It's good. The peppers should be roasted a bit, and it's a bit bland, but that's probably better for me right now. Thank you, Your Highness."

  A bit bland? Ariana wondered how the wizard could say that, as she sipped water to cool the burning in her mouth. "I thought that, Koren said he used to cook special food for you, and, since he's not here-" She stopped to wipe a tear away with her handkerchief.

  Paedris remained silent for a moment, to let the princess recover her composure. It had been four weeks since Koren ran away, four weeks that had seen the wizard deathly ill, until Shomas Feany had arrived to heal him. Even now, Paedris was still weak and tired.

  "Have you heard anything, any word?" Ariana asked. Paedris had sent word to those other wizards who were on the way to Linden to tend to the stricken court wizard, that he needed them instead to do whatever they could to find Koren Bladewell. If Paedris died, that would certainly be bad, but Tarador would likely survive. If Koren was captured by the enemy, Tarador, and the rest of the free world, would certainly fall to the Dark One of Acedor.

  "Of Koren? No, no, nothing. You?"

  "Nothing from the army." Ariana twisted the handkerchief in her hands, then used it to wipe away the tears that welled up in her eyes. "I never really told him I was sorry that he didn't get credit for finding the Cornerstone. And that I should not have made him leave the Regency Council meeting. I never told him how I feel."

  Paedris looked away, to give the young princess time to compose herself. "It is early yet. Plenty of time for a young man alone to realize where he belongs, and return home." He added, unconvincingly.

  "Home? This isn't his home, not any more!" Ariana's voice fluttered with anguish. "He believes people here consider him a
coward, a deserter, an assassin, that you wanted him thrown into the dungeon? And he believes that he's a terrible jinx who almost killed me. Why would he ever come back here?" Carlana had tried to keep Koren's letter secret from her daughter, but that had not lasted. As soon as Ariana heard a rumor that Koren had left a letter, addressed to Ariana, the crown princess had summoned the royal chancellor, to consult the law. The chancellor had informed her that, as Koren's letter was addressed to Ariana, it was her property. Further, the elderly chancellor said gravely, that interfering with delivery of mail to the royal family was a crime against the state, a serious crime. Ariana had never seen her mother so mad at her as when she had been forced, in front of her own chancellor, to deliver Koren's letter to Ariana. Whatever anger Carlana felt paled in comparison to Ariana's own anger, and then bitter sorrow, when she read the note. Her mother trying to explain that Koren's woes were caused by terrible misunderstandings only made Ariana feel worse. "He saved my life again. If I hadn't seen him across the courtyard, that gargoyle would have fallen right on top of me."

  "What?" Paedris asked, astounded. He had not heard this part of the story. "What do you mean?"

  "My mother still thinks Koren is a jinx, no matter what you tell her. I was standing on the dais in the courtyard, and when I saw Koren, I called out and started to run toward him. Then the gargoyle fell, right where I would have been if I hadn't run. I would have been standing there, if Koren had not come into the courtyard. He was on his way to see you, with a soldier escorting him, because he was a prisoner."