by Paul Latham
Velar shook his head as he pushed away the sword with the back of his hand.
"I sense that the energy of the Chalice is at least half expended. I could guess that puts you in another in-between. Half in the Chalice and half in me. Kill me and you could go too."
Khurin put the point of his sword in the dirt.
"Perceptive," he grunted. "Each time we meet, Velar, I'm only more and more convinced that you are the one. Fate, destiny, whatever you call it, it was meant to be."
"No."
Khurin put a hand to his forehead and massaged the deep wrinkles as he walked a slow circle.
"Have you no passion?" he said.
"As in what can you bribe me with?"
"No that's not what I meant. Although, if there is something?” He gave Velar a hopeful glance from beneath the hand that still rubbed his forehead. With a lack of response from Velar, Khurin shrugged and continued his circle. "Anyway, what I meant. Have warriors changed so much? I mean, are you typical, Velar? In my day, any soldier I knew would have leapt at the chance to rule."
"I've said before, it's not my place."
"But who told you that? Who guides your ship of destiny and why did you ever surrender the helm?"
"No one," Velar said, crossing his arm across his chest. "I simply know it's not my place. I do not feel comfortable with the thought of ruling."
"But you'd be willing to try it if for nothing but the experience."
"No."
"Oh, by the sacred dead!"
"Tell me your motivation, Khurin."
"Why should I? You claim to know that better than I."
"You had your time. Do you love life so much?"
"No," Khurin sighed. "Actually, I found it rather tiresome."
"Then why?"
"Look around, Velar. Look at the death and destruction and it goes on forever." He pointed. "See that hill? Beyond it lies a destroyed village with mutilated women and children packed in the well, stuffed in the temple with packs of dogs tearing at their flesh. And that way, about a day’s travel is a castle burnt to the stone with the dead piled higher than a lance could reach. Look at this." He kicked at a severed head. "The priests mentioned nothing of this. Nothing! For the longest I thought this was my hell. But it isn't. And you are my way out."
Velar shrugged. "Why not die?"
Khurin sheathed his sword. "Why should I? I have the opportunity to live again and I well remember the mistakes I made the first time. Besides, what if whatever is beyond is worse than this?"
Velar nodded. "I understand."
Khurin's hand flashed out. Gelai screamed and fell into a pile of the dead.
"Who is this?" Khurin asked angrily.
Velar retrieved a sword and took in his surroundings, scanning for revenants. "Her name is Gelai. She represents certain parties that would prefer that the Chalice remain lost.”
Gelai scrambled to her feet, seething. "You bastard," she screamed at Velar. "Don't you realize what you've done?"
"Is Shilandra in danger?"
Khurin shook his head. "She's here but she's not."
"She's projecting," Velar said.
"You must be destroyed," Gelai said. "Damn you, Velar. I would have you as one of my own."
"Pretty little thing," Khurin commented. "Should keep her here for myself."
Gelai's eyes widened. "You couldn't."
Khurin smiled. "You are out of your body, child, and mine for the taking."
One of the dead thrust out a hand and gripped her ankle. Gelai screamed and pulled away.
"He can't be allowed to return, Velar," she cried. "The blood of the lands will stain your soul."
Khurin turned to Velar. "Does history truly remember me as such?"
Velar shrugged. "History remembers you as the last warrior king."
"He was a tyrant, a savage," Gelai hissed.
"Only a nobleman," Khurin said, crossing his arms across his chest, "or woman would think so." He shook head with an expression of distaste. "I have no stomach for nobles."
The dead rose behind her. Velar cringed at the sound of creaking joints and the tearing of rotted flesh.
"I will destroy you," Gelai said. "If I fail then others will."
The soldiers gripped her arms. Gelai thrashed and screamed.
"Take her to the well," Khurin ordered. The soldiers pulled her away.
"Destroy him, Velar," she wailed. "You can save us! You must save us!"
"A little firebrand," Khurin said with a chuckle.
"She is dead?"
Khurin gave him a curious glance. "You would have her live?"
Velar stood silent. Gelai's screams grew distant.
"She is the enemy, Velar."
Velar nodded.
"And enemies are to be destroyed."
"But there will be others to take her place."
The Last Warrior King nodded. "But that will take time."
A thin scream echoed over the battlefield, piercing Velar's ears and soul.
Khurin's eyes glazed over. "You're out of the Sands. Approaching a small village. Tend to your wounds, son. You'll have a fever to fight."
Khurin faded slowly and the battlefield followed.
* * *
Should I let him?
"Should you let him what?" Shilandra asked.
Velar slowly opened encrusted eyes. Moonlight streamed in through a curtained window. He lay on his back atop a thick bed with little cover. His chest felt stiff and looking down he saw most of his upper body covered with the blue paste Shilandra had used on his arm.
"Your fever broke this morning," Shilandra said rising from the chair near the door and walking towards him. "How do you feel?"
"Hungry," Velar said. "Thirsty. Where?"
"Ina's," Shilandra answered. "We've been here a week."
"A week! That's too long! We have to move."
"Ina's told no one that we're here and I've been very discreet."
"Still."
Shilandra poured water from a pitcher into a small metal cup. Velar took the cup in a trembling hand and drank slowly wincing as the water trickled down his parched throat.
"Where's the Chalice?" he asked.
"Left tied to your belt," Shilandra said and nodded at the far corner of the room where his equipment, what was left of it, lay piled. "I didn't touch it."
"You didn't?" Velar took more water. "Why not?"
Shilandra shrugged. "If nothing else, Velar, I've grown to respect your judgment. You said I shouldn't touch it. I didn't"
Velar put his head back to the pillow as Shilandra took the cup away. "I'm not sure it would matter actually."
Shilandra's mouth fell open. "I've waited a week."
"I'm still not sure, Shilandra."
"But still."
"It's dangerous."
"How?"
Velar sighed, looked down and poked at the hard, blue shell that covered his chest. "Can this come off?"
Shilandra began peeling. "Tell me how, Velar."
"No sword, no armor . . ."
"Velar, this could get very painful if you don't offer details."
She gave a sharp tug at the hardened poultice. Velar's pink, new skin tingled in protest.
"The priest that fashioned the Chalice designed it so that the first person that touched the Chalice became imbued with the essence of the last warrior king."
Shilandra's hands fell away.
"Are you?"
Velar shook his head. "Only partially, if at all."
"It didn't work?"
"Khurin thinks that my imaging abilities may have interfered or something. Apparently, I would have to submit."
"Khurin?"
Velar nodded. "That's his name."
"And you've spoken with him?"
Again, Velar nodded.
Shilandra stood and walked to the foot of the bed.
"He would gain your body," Shilandra said, her back still to him. "Would you survive?"
"I don't know."<
br />
"And he would try to-"
"-once again conquer the known lands."
"Incredible."
"Yes," Velar said with a sigh. "Very."
Shilandra turned. "What will you do?"
She stood back-lit by the moonlight, wearing simple breeches and an oversized shirt with a belt at her waist.
"Run," Velar said. "With you. Away. The situation has changed. I have to determine the factors involved and decide what to do."
Shilandra folded her arms across her chest. She looked to the floor in silence.
"There's a mage," she said, lifting her gaze to his. "Haecor. He may offer advice. We could try to find him. After you've healed of course."
"I've healed," Velar announced and once again began working at the stiff poultice. "You would go with me then?"
She nodded quickly, almost nervously. "I've started a chronicle. Of our quest. Your quest, I mean."
"Our quest," Velar said. "So, you go to continue and finish this chronicle."
Slowly Shilandra returned to the edge of the bed and offered assistance at the pulling and peeling.
"There's that," she said. "And the fact that I don't want to be away from you right now."
"Why not?"
Her hands fell to her lap. "I don't know. I just don't." Her eyes fell to her hands. "I'm so glad you’re awake. I almost cried." Her voice caught slightly. "Couldn't let you see that though."
Velar frowned as he pulled away the last of the poultice. Her last statement almost sounded like a reprimand.
"We aren't in any danger," she continued, "at the moment." And Ina has been more than generous. I've been paying her with your gold by the way. I just . . ." She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. "I just wanted you awake."
Velar nodded. He should say something, he thought. But he wasn't sure what.
He reached for more water, drained the cup and, with her help, filled it again.
"Where ever you go, I'm going with you," she said.
"What about the Chalice?"
"What about it?"
"Returning it to the Chancellor? Your place in the Secultariates?"
"What good is the Chalice to the Chancellor if half of the last warrior king is stuck in you?"
"Well, exactly, but-"
"It is obviously not as simple as it once was, and I can see that without knowing all the details. My interest is the Chalice. And my interest is you. And I am staying with you and see no reason to discuss it further."
"But-"
"You would argue with a shryke."
"That's not-"
"I am with you, Velar." She stretched out beside him, nestled her head on his shoulder and cocked her knee across his hips. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you."
Velar felt every muscle in his body tighten painfully.
"I . . . I probably . . . I may need a bath."
Her head snapped up, black hair flying, glistening in the moonlight. Her expression held that smirk, smug, confident, dangerous. She pushed up towards him and he wanted to stop her for some unfathomable reason, but he knew he wouldn't and then decided she moved too slowly. Her lips met his and fires lit his gut and lightning danced up his spine.
"I gave you your bath this morning," she whispered, her mouth still against his.
She kissed him again.
"Shilandra," Velar choked out, his voice at a peculiar octave. "I may not be, I mean, I just-"
She put a finger to his lips.
"Don't worry," she said. "You won't have much to do."
Chapter Eighteen
"Now what?" Ina said.
Velar worked the chain mail shirt over his head and let it fall across the padded undershirt. Ina stepped forward and tugged and pulled to adjust the fit.
"Someone left this here?" Velar asked.
"As payment for a room and a good horse."
"It fits well."
Ina nodded. "He was big like you."
Velar sat on the edge of the bed. "Thank you," he said. "For the armor and sword, I mean."
Ina shrugged one shoulder. "As I asked," she said. "Now what?"
"I don't know."
"But you won't be returning to Sareon."
"No."
Ina nodded.
Khurin appeared in the corner. Velar groaned and rubbed his forehead with a hand.
Khurin laughed. "I think I'm about to be the least of your troubles son."
Velar looked up. "Why?"
Ina looked from Velar, to the corner he addressed and back again.
"Velar?"
Shilandra entered the room. Velar rose rapidly to his feet.
Khurin chuckled.
"There's a man downstairs," she said. "He insists that you're here and says he'll bring the place down if he has to.
"Teacher," Velar said.
Ina frowned. "He wouldn't," she said. "It's forbidden."
"He would," Velar said and moved quickly from the room, to the stairs and down into the main hall of the tavern. Teacher stood impatient and pacing.
"Insolent woman!" he said to Velar. "A lesson in manners is due."
"Teacher-"
"Lost the armor did you," Teacher said.
"Yes but-"
"Come, sit. We have much to discuss."
"Yes, but how did you know?"
"Everyone knows Velar. A sizable force from Eshlex is just over the hill. And the entire order with the Chancellor at its head marches from the south. What has happened? I mean details."
"Well, I-"
"Spit it out."
"I'm partially possessed by the essence of Khurin."
"Possessed."
Velar nodded. "The moment I touched the Chalice."
"It's true then," Teacher asked, squinting one eye in scrutiny. "You have it?"
"Yes."
"And the Last Warrior King is wandering in your skull."
Velar nodded.
Teacher sighed. "The opportunity you've been afforded, Velar. I've dreamed of such. To rule that is."
Velar frowned. "But you are Teacher."
"I am that. But there was so much more potential available once. The possibilities . . . " His voice trailed off as he leveled a curious gaze at Velar.
"The truest truth, Velar," Teacher said, suddenly. "Remember?"
Velar nodded. "There are no absolutes," he affirmed.
Teacher cackled wildly. "You were a good student, Velar. It was a joy to train you. My best, my brightest." His voice faded again to a whisper. "But not the most ambitious, are you?"
"Khurin wants me to rule."
"Should you?"
"Why should I?"
Nodding, Teacher rubbed a stubbly chin with a weathered, wrinkled hand. "Why should you indeed? A whelp from the street. Trained for war. Nobles lead."
Concealing his confusion, Velar crossed his arms. "As they are trained, yes."
"My finest,” Teacher nodded. “It is only appropriate then.” He straightened his spine. “I would speak with this king." Teacher placed both hands on the table before them. "Ease your mind." Velar felt his head thicken. "That's it . . . "
. . . the battlefield materialized before them.
"Where is he," Teacher asked.
Velar shrugged.
"Here, old man."
They turned. Khurin sat on a large boulder, his hands on his knees.
"It is true," Teacher whispered.
Velar glanced at Teacher. "You doubted me?"
"Always doubt, Velar. I taught you that."
"Yes, Velar, doubt," Khurin said, pushing to his feet. "Doubt everything." He slowly approached Teacher. "You can't have me, old man. The boy is mine and I'll settle for no less."
Velar frowned. "I don't understand."
"Open your eyes, Velar," Khurin growled. "In this place I know his thoughts as well as yours. He wishes to rule."
Velar shook his head. "No, he's here to help."
"Don't be a fool, Velar," Teacher said.
A wave of guilt washed
over him. He had doubted. For an instant. For a short instant.
"Of course, I want to rule."
Velar felt his guts begin to boil.
"My existence has been wasted. I am of noble birth, but my birthright was stripped from me and I was left to training fledgling knights. I will claim my birthright. I will rule. I will honor my truth."
"And he will kill you to do it, Velar," Khurin said with a grim smile.
"Unfortunate, yes," Teacher said. "Never have I seen one with such potential. Velar, I am truly sorry. But you must die. I will vanquish your spirit and from this place take the body and destiny that was mine."
Khurin's eyes blazed. "Unless I kill you first."
Velar's chest felt heavy. "Teacher?"
"Protect yourself Velar," Khurin said. "Close your mind. Shield your spirit."
The hot wind, carrying the smells of the dead and dying, whipped across the battlefield. Khurin stood as stone. Teacher leaned heavily into the gale.
"I will have you," Teacher screamed. "I am no fledgling knight. You don't know my power!"
Tendrils of light snaked from Teacher's body and penetrated Khurin. The ropes of fire intensified, lashing in the wind but Khurin swept them away almost casually and then he reached for Teacher and something exploded between them. Velar shielded his eyes . . .
. . . and realized the main hall of the tavern. Teacher sat across from him, blood pouring from his eyes, gnarled hands reaching across the table. Velar jerked to his feet and stepped back.
"I will rule," Teacher hissed. "It is my right!"
A loud thump sounded somewhere within Teacher's skull. He slumped across the table, lifeless.
"What is this?" Velar whispered.
"What is what?"
Khurin sat at the table. He appeared pale but uninjured.
"This," Velar sobbed, pointing at the body of Teacher. "This . . . this . . . he was my teacher!" Velar shook his head as tears streamed down. His fists clenched and unclenched. "Why?" he wheezed. "To rule? Is it worth it to rule? Why?"
"Because we would be ruled by no others. Because this man had the power and he had to make the play for his destiny as he saw fit. He had to honor his truth. Perhaps he planned this all along. Seeing possibilities in your strengths and knowing that at some point he could possibly take those strengths as his own."
Velar lifted red eyes to king. Khurin nodded.
"Think on this Velar. Your powers of command, your ability at arms. You are young, and you are one of the most powerful men I have ever met. One day you will reach a point where letting that power serve another is not enough. You will do one of two things. Leave and enjoy your power alone. Or rule over those with less power. Because that is how it is. That's the way it works. There are simply those of us who will not, who cannot be ruled."
