by Cale Madison
“You crazy son of a bitch.” I heard my wife say as I opened my eyes.
I found that I was lying on a white cot in the palace’s medical wing. Aketa sat beside me, tenderly holding my left hand. Her eyes were red and swollen. Her hair had been scrubbed clean of the black mud and dirt since the last time I saw her. I turned to notice that we were the only ones in the room. “Was I the only one to make it out? Where’s Darius?”
“It’s almost afternoon, Caine.” she answered, drawing close to me, “You’ve been here almost all day. The other guards were released some time ago. I was so worried...they didn’t know if you would make it...”
“And Darius?”
Aketa shot me a puzzled, angered look, as if my concern for the king meant little compared to her concern for me.
“He’s dealing with the High Command now. Doubt they’ll be keeping her positions after this.” Aketa explained as she looked over my burned knuckles, “He has some minor burns but nothing drastic. What were you thinking, going after Gavin by yourself? You were almost killed!”
“Someone had to.” I said, grimacing as I struggled to sit upright.
“Don’t stress yourself! You need to stay here until the woman comes back!” she ordered, an alarmed expression on her face, “She said you needed rest, you hard-headed fool.”
“If I want to hold my wife, I think I’ve earned the right to do so!” I exclaimed before pulling her close to me. She then buried her face in my bandaged chest, gently embracing me. I kissed her washed hair and whispered, “I’m so sorry...I should’ve been there for you…”
“I watched out for myself. Don’t worry,” she replied with a smile, “I’m just happy you’re all right. Where’s Skalige? I haven’t seen him.”
“I’ll tell you sometime, just not now.” I said, fighting the sadness as it began to worm its way back into my mind.
Aketa’s messy, blonde hair fell into my lap. I ran my fingers through it while she pressed her ear to my chest, listening to my heartbeat. She calmly whispered, “I couldn’t bear to lose you, Caine. Let’s go back to our quiet house on the shore, where there’s no castles or thrones or assassins. These royal people are out of their damned minds. I miss my gardens and our walks in the woods. The leaves should start falling soon. Hurricane season is nearly upon us too. We’ll need to stock food and water, start preparing for wint-”
“Stop thinking,” I interrupted, placing my finger on her lips, “before you snowball out of control, as you always do. I promised that I’d come back. Didn’t I?”
My wife sniffed and patted my stomach, “Nearly in once piece.”
“Gwydion’s sword.” I said as I suddenly remembered it, “Did they find anything in the cathedral? It must still be in the belltower.”
“After they pulled you out, the church collapsed. It’s only ashes now.” Aketa answered, “I’m sure the sword proved its worth in the end. What matters now is that you brought Malachi home to his family. You did that, Caine. You saved his life.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. He sat up with you for most of the day, wouldn’t even eat with his family. You should’ve seen the way he looked at you, Caine. He looked at you like a hero.” she smiled, tenderly running her fingers along my face, “Heroes make dumb mistakes in the heat of the moment. I can’t believe you risked your life for someone you hardly knew.”
“Where’s Athalos? Did they find him?”
“Caught him trying to steal horse from the stables. He’s locked away in his…”
Then, the door swung open behind us, revealing a young woman wearing the silver cross of a medic. She placed a bowl of sharp instruments on the dresser. I nervously glanced at them, recognizing several types of bone saws and tweezers. She then said, “You’re a lucky man, sir.”
I sighed and whispered to Aketa, “I’ve heard that once or twice.”
The woman hovered over me, using the silver tweezers to peer under the burnt, fleshy wounds on my hands. Her eyes scanned the wrapped bandages on my legs and the dark bruise that had formed on my right cheek. Once she finished her examination, she explained, “You’ll have scarring on your shoulders from the melted armor. It was almost impossible cutting you out of there. The burns on your hands will heal the quickest, but your knees are going to take some time. The cuts on your arms and legs were dangerously close to some vital arteries, Caine. A hair lower and you wouldn’t have made it. You lost a great amount of blood back there. Realistically, you shouldn’t have survived, yet here you are.”
“Tell me the truth, ma’am. Are you amputating today?”
The medic smiled, leaned close and whispered, “I’ll certainly be amputating today, but not anything off of you, sir. Some of those knights were not as fortunate as you. Just promise me that you’ll stay clear of any more fires in the next few nights. Take a break and relax for a while. From what I hear, you’ve earned it.”
“To be clear, nothing on my body is being removed?”
“No, sir,” she repeated, looking over my wounds again, “but I do recommend you stay in bed for a little while longer. Perhaps for the night so you don’t overwork yourself.”
I pulled myself forward, leaning on Aketa as I strained to climb from the soft bed. The woman protested, “You need rest, sir!”
She could not suey me from standing.
Aketa helped me to my feet and then said to her, “Pardon me, lady, but you’ve only known him for half of a bad day. I promise you won’t be able to change his mind. Trust me, I’ve been trying for years. I’ll watch over him.”
Chapter Ten
ONE DOOR CLOSES, ANOTHER OPENS
“He served my family for years.” Darius said to us in the armory, “I should’ve noticed this. He always wanted to fight, never wanting to keep the peace like a true king should. Manipulated my own son into helping with his schemes. I thought he buried his demons long ago...”
Aketa and I stood across from him, embracing the tranquil calm after the storm. The king had grotesque burns on his shoulders, but did not show any further signs of injury. Athalos was ordered to be locked in his tower, consistently guarded by soldiers. By the King’s decree, Cassius was exiled to the Further, having been directly involved with Gavin’s plotting and the traitorous knights that were imprisoned.
“What will you do with the High Command?” I inquired.
“No need in keeping any of them.” Darius answered, “A man held a sword to my throat, threatened my family and they did nothing. That kind of cowardice is not what Tuskan was built from. The traitors who followed Gavin will hang from the gallows this evening.”
“And Castle Rock?” Aketa asked.
“I’ve dispatched Ivan with a battalion to investigate.”
I noticed that he had returned Malachi’s armor to its display case on the wall with its newly-acquired mud splatters and smears of dirt. My wife grabbed my hand and rested her tired head on my shoulder, breathing easier with the mayhem far behind us. The king leaned against a glass container by the wide window, overlooking the beautiful hills and lush grasslands beyond the castle.
“I’m sorry to hear about your friend.” he said to us without turning his head, “No words can do justice to such a courageous man. I’ll never forget that.”
I could feel a rush of pain as it pierced my heart, returning me to a grim reality in only a couple of hardened words. The Realm lost a vigorous soul that day.
“I ask that you direct men to search the underground catacombs beneath Bardford.” I said to the king, “Malachi mentioned that they run throughout the kingdom. He may still be alive.”
“I’ll send them as soon as we can...and here’s your reward, of course.” the King declared, breaking my concentration as he stood before us with a small casket. Aketa lifted the wooden lid and revealed thousands of golden crowns, shimmering in the remaining light of the falling sun. I could see the imprinted face of the infamous Emperor Val Essezir. I interjected before she could receive it from him
, “Half goes to the Southern Isles. Deliver it with his fleet. It’s what he would’ve wanted.”
“Understood.” Darius said before closing the lid, “His actions will not go unnoticed, Caine...perhaps, we could articulate a friendlier relationship with our neighbors to the south. Only time will tell.”
We placed the casket onto the ground and watched as he left to rummage through a dusty cabinet, returning with a signed parchment. He lifted it to his face and read aloud, “Those signed below, hereby stake claim to the allotted properties of Marton’s Vineyard in West Brunson. The property shall not require tax payments, coin for renovations or compensation of any sort for future installments. Settlements shall be acquired by the Tuskan Regional Treasury on the date of issuance. Aketa will sign as a witness.”
He looked at us and noticed the signs of perplexity on our faces. When he extended his hand to give us the property deed, Aketa said, “This is to be given to a man named Wilhelm who lives in Orson’s Hollow. Without him, I’d still be a prisoner in Castle Rock. He has black hair and a scar over his eye. Caine and I will be returning to Mercia.”
“I will deliver it myself, then,” he replied with a proud nod, “and I’ll have a ship ready for you at the docks by tomorrow morning. Are you certain you want to leave so soon? There are feasts to be had and tourneys to be played? You haven’t experienced Tuskan until you’ve attended one of our grand festivals! You two would be our guests of honor, after all you’ve done for us.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Your Majesty, but we’ve been missing home. A little quiet would be nice, after all of this.” I answered, politely.
I overheard voices from behind us, spotting Malachi as he passed the armory with his mother following closely behind. In the prince’s hands were bushels of fruit and vegetables. His eyes met mine from across the chamber and I caught his faint smile. Queen Isabelle quickly ushered him away from the door.
“Strange. Malachi hasn’t eaten much since he came home. We’ve delivered salted pork, his favorite dinner, to his tower but he refuses every time? Bananas, apples and salad. That’s all he eats now. I wonder if he’ll still want to hunt with me again.” Darius said, scratching his head.
“I doubt he’ll be eating meat in the considerable future.” I replied.
“Regardless, I want to thank you both, again.” the king said, graciously. I gazed upon a painted portrait of the Lockmour family, eyeing the individual sons and their inked expressions. Malachi smiled in the central point of the painting with Alice beside him and Dane to the far left. Athalos appeared from behind them. Even in the portrait, he looked uneasy.
“Brothers fight but they don’t condemn each other to death.” the king noted in despair, “As overjoyed as I am that Malachi’s home, I’m equally impaired to learn of Athalos and his troubles. I should have raised him better, I see that, but hindsight won’t help anyone now. Nobody told me how hard it would be to raise four children while leading a kingdom.”
“Nobody blames you.” Aketa gently replied, “I’d like to speak with him, if you don’t mind. There’s one more answer I still need.”
“I’ll have a guard escort you to his tower, then.”
I reached into my pocket and withdrew the black box, “Do you know what this is?”
The king examined the container closely, reading over the engraved inscriptions on its sides. In confusion, Aketa attempted to speak but Darius interrupted, “This is a language that hasn’t been spoken in ages. Looks like some dialect of elvish fused with Skjarlan or dwarven. I recognize the markings but I cannot read them. I do know of someone who can, though. There is an alchemist in Brunson. Niall Crumb, but everyone calls him Scabbard. Look for his shop on the main street by the docks. He lives for this old junk. Where did you find it?”
“Avenwood.” I answered, withdrawing the box to pocket it again. The king smiled, glanced between the two of us and patted our shoulders with admiration. No words were said in that moment and none were needed.
“I wish you two the best of luck on your journeys.” Darius said to us as we prepared to depart, “The world needs more decent people like you. Should you ever require the strength of an army, my soldiers are at your disposal. Should you be in need of a navy, my fleet will answer your call. Tuskan will never forget what you did here, nor shall I.”
***
A guard in shining red armor led us upwards on a spiraling vortex of wooden stairs, taking us to a locked door with a small space for speaking through. Inside of the cramped room, we saw Athalos resting with his arms placed on the window sill and his attention drawn elsewhere. The red and orange light of the setting sun outside nearly blinded us upon first glance. He heard the door’s shutter open but did not turn to greet us. I spotted no iron shackles or bars to contain him, providing that he realizes the extent of the fall from the high tower.
“Athalos,” Aketa said to the boy, “why did you do this?”
He said nothing at first, only stared off into the dark clouds.
“He liked you, you know. We could’ve left together, the three of us.” he eventually said.
“You sent your brother to die.”
“Didn’t though, did he? Seems to me that Malachi still has the usual streak of luck that’s gotten him this far in life. No matter. I’ll rot in this tower while he becomes king someday. I’ll forever be the troubled brother,” Athalos replied, “a terrible truth.”
“You have no one to blame for this.” I replied, almost too coldly.
“I blame you.” he said, darkening his tone as he spun around to face us, peering through the door’s slit, “I blame you and everything you are. You both should have stayed in Mercia! It would’ve been perfect. A real father who doesn’t beat me before asking to hear my side of a story, who listens and understands. A father who appreciates me! You’ve stolen that from me!”
“I pray that you learn the truth someday.” Aketa quickly retorted.
“Pray? Hah! You want the truth?” Athalos asked, turning to face the open window, “I would pray in this tower for hours on end, wishing that Opheria would grant me wings so I could fly far away. My father was the only one who actually listened, who truly knew me. He showed me how to fence, how to speak proper, to read and know the laws. I was never happy here! I had nothing while Malachi had everything. You’ve never known that or you wouldn’t have stopped him yesterday.”
“He was a traitor. Vile and despicable. Don’t claim to follow in his stead.” Aketa argued, “He only used you to gain your father’s control.”
“Don’t call him that!” he snapped, angrily, “Don’t ever call him that!”
“Gavin wanted the throne, Athalos. See the truth. If Dane had been the second born, Gavin would’ve manipulated him instead! You almost killed your own family to help a madman rise to power!”
“They’re not my family. They never will be.” the prince replied and returned to the window, dropping onto his knees. He bowed his head and I suddenly realized details that I had nearly missed. Before I could inform Aketa, she said to the boy, “Darius may not your real father but they are still your family.”
Apparently, she uncovered more during my travels than I’d realized.
“They raised you, they fed you.” she continued to say while Athalos fought to ignore her, “They loved you like a son and like a brother and now you say that you’re not theirs? What would your mother have thought of this? Family doesn’t always have to mean blood.”
“The Lockmour Bastard. That’s what they’d call me if they knew.”
“It’s not too late to make this right, Athalos. They still love you, even after all that you’ve put them through. You still have time.” Aketa said before backing away from the door. I stood in awe, running my hand over her arms in seeping admiration. She hadn’t noticed but I caught a faint flicker of aspiration in the prince’s troubled eyes before we shut the door’s window.
“How did you know?” I asked her, “Took me until just now to see it.”
“I spoke with the queen. Noticed something strange in the way that she said Gavin’s name or talked about him - same as me when I talk about you. She didn’t hide it well. I thought that I could at least try to save a young life before he ruins the rest of it.”
“Would’ve found Malachi a hell of a lot sooner if you would’ve come with us.” I said with a laugh. She squeezed my hand and planted a gentle kiss on my cheek before we began our descent into the castle.
***
The alchemist’s shop sat alone on the opposite side of Brunson’s main street, hanging over the extended ledge above the sea. We passed the usual bustling crowds of merchants and fur traders, making our way to the building. As night dawned on the province, candlelights ignited within the windows and on street corners but there would be no flame inside of Brunson’s Elixirs & Apothecary. After leaving Nadi tied to the signboard, we pressed on.
We entered the store, gently opening the old, wooden door to step within the confines of this aged building. Empty cauldrons lined the window sills, filled bookshelves stood adjacent to each other with multitudes of glass jars, sheltering mysterious contents to our untrained eyes. Clear containers on display held small eyeballs and shrunken heads. Aketa stopped to rifle through several pages of one book titled: Living with the Damned.
“Interesting.” she noted as she read.
“What?”
“This man wrote this while trapped in a collapsed mine. There’s smudges on the pages...see, there...he claims to have befriended the ghouls that burrowed in those tunnels.” she said before flipping the yellowed pages to the very end, “It says that his body was discovered half-eaten, nearly eight months later. What a tragic ending.”
“Can’t blame him. Must’ve gotten lonely in there.”
“It’s fascinating.” Aketa said, “He will never know that I read his work.”
“Doubt he really cares now.”
