Honor Bound Trilogy Box Set

by Jon Kiln

  “This is why I am reluctant to speak freely even when asked, my King.”

  “Is that so? I do want you to speak freely even when I am unable to answer you the same way. Consider it my prerogative as the King and protector of the kingdom.”

  “Of course, your majesty.”

  “You still want to know though, don’t you, Captain?”

  “I do not want to have to know anything about Caffrey,” Berengar said. “I recognize that he is a man of darkness shrouded in darkness. One cannot stare into such shadows for long without being affected. I’m afraid though that if I am charged with chasing the man and his ancient power, that I have to stare and I have to know.”

  The King nodded. He looked down away from the bars of the cell door, but then turned his eyes back within again. “I see the wisdom in your stance. There is much I cannot tell. Running a kingdom and navigating the politics of the noble class is a tricky business even in times of relative peace. Men like Caffrey have their fingers on the strings. They can use them to play beautiful notes or to pull the hands of puppets on the other end. The darker side, as you say, is that those strings can be wrapped around a throat and strangle as they cut.”

  “Did he perform all three of these string numbers for you in his time?”

  The King shrugged. “King’s need string men to carry on the work of being King. He was not one that sliced a throat often. Even when he did, he pulled the strings of puppets to do the work. I think he is greatly distressed that my neck proved outside his power. I’m not entirely sure he does not blame you and Lieutenant Nisero for that failure.”

  “Is his business revenge and recovery of what was taken from him?” Berengar asked.

  “I think he views his estate as a roof and four walls,” the King said. “What he seeks to take is the entire world. The universe is the order of the property he seeks for himself, and every kingdom within it. For such a task, the Great Artifact is the only tool that could deliver. He was interested in it before the unfortunate business with Marlex and the war to the east. I believe the trouble to the south is connected to his search, and Caffrey is firmly behind it all as he always is.”

  At the sound of the name Marlex, the occupant of the cell returned to shuffling and scratching. By the time the King was done speaking, he was back to silence in his dark prison.

  Berengar glanced at the door for a moment and then returned his attention to the King. “If Caffrey is indeed behind the trouble to the south, perhaps we should move there and attempt to take him head on. If he is searching out the scattered pieces of the Great Artifact, then it might be good to seize him before he has his hands upon what he seeks.”

  “Even if he is orchestrating our trouble from that border,” the King said, “he could well be doing it from any distance. Trying to run after him is like trying to wrap one’s fist around the wind. We would do better to find the pieces of the artifact ourselves and keep it away from his clutches at all costs.”

  Berengar stared at the King in surprise. “You want to collect and assemble the artifact yourself, my King? Is that what you are saying?”

  “Precisely so, Captain. As soon as you have the location of the piece as described from Caffrey’s archive, I want you, Lieutenant Nisero, and the whole of the Elite Guard on the move to track down the objects until we have it all.”

  “If it does exist, sire,” Berengar said quietly as he watched the King’s eyes narrow. “Perhaps it would be wise to destroy the piece we find so that it can never be assembled and never fall into the hands of Caffrey, nor anyone like him in future generations.”

  “It is the desire to destroy it that led to it being scattered,” King Ramael explained. “It cannot be destroyed. Disassembling it merely cast the problem forward from ancient times upon our generation. Now Caffrey is about, seeking out its power, and we are left to try to race ahead of him. The only solution is to gather that power into the hands of a King seeking the light, instead of an evil man like Lord Caffrey who would plunge our world into eternal darkness. It is on the Elite Guard to save us all again, Captain.”

  “Might I leave a contingent in the city and palace for your protection in this time of war? I can take a smaller, swifter unit to conduct the tracking more quickly as time seems to be our challenge here.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment,” the King replied. “I have my army split between two fronts. You already have units pulled back for the protection of the capital and the palace. If I permit you to leave a contingent, I suspect you would leave the entire Guard, but yourself and Nisero.”

  Berengar smiled. “We have done quite well, he and I. I could take one or two others, if you would feel better.”

  “You will take the Elite Guard,” the King commanded. “I will permit you to leave two or three to see after my person, but no more. Three does not mean four, five, or a dozen. I want the Elite Guard with you in this elite mission. If we do not possess the artifact for ourselves, the multiple fronts will eventually break our kingdom anyway. If Caffrey gets it, the world will be broken. This mission is everything now and I want the full power of the Guard after it. Am I understood, Captain?”

  “Fully understood, your majesty.”

  “I imagine you will want to see your daughter and grandson before you leave.”

  “Yes, sire.”

  “They are still here in the capital?”

  “They are, my King.”

  The King nodded, still staring into the cell door. “Arianne has a full complement of servants and help in her apartment?”

  Berengar looked down at his boots. “She still insists upon doing for herself when the servants are distracted, but they see to her needs, yes, your majesty.”

  “Good,” the King said. “I will never forget the kindness of your family. I know I have drawn you out of retirement indefinitely, but I am not without sympathy for the sacrifices your family has made for my service—not the least of which when I had no one else left to stand for me.”

  “Yes, sire. We and many other loyal families in your kingdom.”

  “Is that grandson of yours too big to bounce upon my knee any longer?”

  Berengar let out a single laugh that echoed off the stone around them. The occupant in the cell scratched about in response.

  “He is quite large for his age. He helps himself to the foods left about when the servants are busy.”

  “Good,” the King said again. “I will sneak some more food in to him, too. Hopefully, this war will be over before he is old enough to fight in it, but the kingdom will always need strong men. My own heirs will need loyal captains of their own in time, yes?”

  “Of course, your majesty.”

  “I do not wish to rush your meeting with your daughter and grandson, Captain, but would you be able to see to that business and be on your way tonight?”

  “Of course, that is my plan and the provisions for it are already in motion.”

  “Then I look forward to being posted on your progress, Captain.”

  Berengar bowed and turned toward the stairs. He took a few steps, but then stopped short. When he looked back over his shoulder, the King was still at the wooden door staring through the bars at the top.

  “My King,” Berengar said. “I was under the impression that you were coming down with me.”

  “Do you think it is unwise for me to visit with my family?”

  “You are the King and you are wise. You may do as you wish.”

  “That does not really answer the question I asked.”

  Berengar frowned. “Under the circumstances, I’m not sure I would consider Marlex part of your family. His actions forfeited that right. His punishments are earned and you do not have to concern yourself with standing watch on him.”

  “I did not watch him before and he nearly overthrew me.”

  “That is true, my King, but it has cost him his eyes and his freedom.”

  “If we had been watching Caffrey, we might be in far better shape,” the King mused.
“You were upon him as you uncovered the plot. You had him beaten upon his own library floor and tore his precious books. If I had someone like you watching him, he would have never escaped me.”

  “Perhaps,” was all Berengar said.

  “Do you think I should have killed Marlex or Caffrey?” the King pressed.

  “I understand savoring the flavor of revenge, but there might be some healing and security in being done with them.”

  “There are consequences to letting people think killing members of the royal family is permissible,” the King said. “The same with the nobility.”

  “Yes, your majesty, but you did put to death some of the disloyal nobility to make that point to them.”

  “That I did,” the King agreed. “If I had caught Caffrey, I would probably have done the same to him. You had Caffrey in your hands at one point and allowed him to live.”

  “Indeed. I think about that fact regularly. I did not have all the facts at that point. Perhaps I should have finished him and others.”

  “Well, you understand then that there are times where pulling the blade across a throat feels better, but may not be better in the circumstance of that moment.”

  “Yes, sire.”

  “Marlex has not seen a thing since the day he was placed in this cell,” the King said. “He slinks about in the actual darkness and the permanent darkness within his own head. I watch the madness of it all take him slowly just as I hoped it would. It is my reward for winning and his for losing. Still, I feel myself being watched from out of the darkness, though such a thing is utterly impossible, one would imagine. It was Caffrey that told me that staring into the darkness long enough resulted in the darkness staring back into you. I never fully understood that until recently. What do you think?”

  “Though I do not doubt Lord Caffrey’s familiarity with darkness, I would not accept any advice or wisdom from him on most any subject.”

  “Also wise,” the King conceded. “I will await your reports, Captain.”

  Berengar turned. “I’ll send the pair of guards back up until you are ready to leave the tower, your majesty.”

  “Very well. Give my best to your family and let them know I have some delicacies on the way soon.”

  Berengar paused at the top of the stairs. “Thank you, my King. You are very kind.”

  Chapter 2: Upon Bent Pages

  Captain Berengar and Belsh reached the landing outside the double doors of the apartment. A pair of servants bowed. They were dressed as guards, but Berengar had himself seen them scrubbing floors in the past. He was not sure they provided much safety. Having them standing at the door gave the illusion of security which was all the deterrent needed most times—most times, but maybe not all times.

  Belsh looked up and asked, “Is this a second palace, Captain?”

  Berengar shook his head. “My daughter’s apartment. I’ll be back shortly and we will join the rest of our party at the eastern gate.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  The servants opened the doors and Berengar entered. He made his way through the halls as more servants greeted him. He found Arianne in a parlor with Drethallen, playing with blocks upon the floor.

  The boy jumped up when Berengar entered and scattered his blocks as he squealed. Arianne sat up in the chair with a start and dumped a book from her lap into the floor.

  As Berengar scooped the boy up into his arms and held him tightly, he stared down at the book. It was a collection of poetry, but the positioning of the book and the set of the pages bent under the open cover on the floor left him remembering surprising Lord Caffrey in his estate years ago. He had dropped a far rarer book and was as enraged with Berengar about the loss of pages as he was to the threat to his life.

  Arianne scooped up the book and closed it with little concern for any damage. She set it back on the arm of the chair beside her.

  “A house full of servants looking for something to do,” she said, “and not one can announce your presence before you are right upon me.”

  Berengar held Drethallen on his hip and the boy rested his head upon his grandfather’s armored shoulder. “Hard, granddad.”

  Berengar grinned widely at him. “Yes, they don’t make cushioned armor just yet, boy.”

  “Have you come to tell me that I can return to my home and land?”

  Berengar sighed. “You know that is the front. It is not safe.”

  “They celebrate the liberation of Spire in the streets, father. Surely Brambudton and Gorma and the rest are ours once more as well.”

  “We have celebrated liberations before only to be sent back and fighting for the same land again.”

  “Then you are doing a terrible job with the war, father.”

  Berengar shrugged. “I am quite tired of it. At any rate, it is not safe.”

  “Will it ever be?” She rubbed her face and leaned forward.

  “I want you to be prepared that the land may not be in livable condition once the war is over. There will be an issue of re-establishing estate boundaries and ownership rights. It is a time intensive process. I’ve watched it before in previous conflicts and it can be complicated.”

  “If you keep telling me it is not safe, father, we might never have to know.”

  “I’m sorry, but you and your son are safe here. That is worthy of being thankful.”

  “I am full up with my share of thanks.” Arianne crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair, closing her eyes. “I want to go home. I want my son to see the land his father and family worked. I want him to see that his work will build something that lasts as well. Surely you do not want him growing up in soft luxury with no feel for dirt under his feet or between his fingers.”

  Berengar looked into the boy’s eyes. They were so disturbingly like his son, Hallen’s, at that age. The Captain had to look away. “I will do everything in my power to secure a safe place for all of that to happen, for you and him.”

  Berengar set Drethallen down. The child pointed at Berengar’s scabbard. “Can I play with your sword?”

  Both Arianne and Berengar answered together. “No.”

  Drethallen stuck out a pouting lip and returned to his blocks on the floor.

  Berengar smiled at his daughter and shook his head. She looked tired.

  “I’ve had enough men in my life playing with swords,” Arianne said. “It never ends well.”

  Berengar’s smile faded. “I’m going to be away on a complicated mission for a while. How long, I cannot say. How far it might take me, I cannot say. It is of grave importance to the King, so it could be quite long and far before I am able to return. I want you to know everything is set here. You know the channels to ask for what you need in my absence, yes?”

  “What I need and far more, yes, father.”

  “The King is sending extra food and probably more presents too. Be gracious, please.”

  “I’ll be full up with gracious.”

  “Arianne, please.”

  “I will be gracious,” she promised. “Is Nisero going with you on this grand adventure?”

  “I can’t give too many details, but, yes, he is.”

  “Someone should go ahead to warn the world like the bell ringer announcing the approach of the death wagon.”

  “Do you see me as the harbinger of death?”

  “There is a bit of death left in your path on most adventures,” she said.

  “I wish I could argue it,” Berengar relented. “Many a bandit and enemy has asked to play with my sword, I’m afraid. They do not listen as well as Drethallen.”

  Arianne snorted. “I imagine many bandits listen better than Drethallen these days, truth be told.”

  “I listen,” Drethhallen said without looking up from his blocks.

  “Of course you do,” Berengar said. He looked back up to see his daughter glaring at him. “At least as well as your mother ever did.”

  Her gaze grew even darker. He wondered if this was the darkness staring back that the King
had mentioned. If so, it was terrifying indeed.

  She spoke wistfully. “I should be going on the adventures and you should be staying with the children, old man.”

  Berengar agreed with her. “I have had few offers as tempting, but we barely survived the last adventure we had together.”

  “Are you going to promise to come back to us safely?”

  Berengar gazed down at his grandson, lost in thought for a moment. “I always strive to come back alive, and thus far have done so. I will not begin promising it now.”

  Although Arianne often spoke with a sharp tongue, she was fond of her father and worried about him. “Drethallen, tell your grandfather goodbye. He needs to go save the kingdom again.”

  Drethallen jumped back up, toppling his blocks again before he wrapped his arms around Berengar’s leg. “Bring me back something!”

  “Hmm, what would you like? The skull of an enemy, or a bandit sword?”

  “Father,” Arianne spoke through gritted teeth.

  “The sword. The sword.” Drethallen jumped up and down.

  “Your grandfather is trying to be funny,” Arianne chided. “He is not bringing either of those things.”

  Drethallen stomped his foot and grunted before he stepped away. “Okay. A rock or a shell or something, maybe.”

  “I’ll see what I can do between saving the world and guarding my own skin.”

  Berengar stepped forward and kissed the child on the top of the head as he collected the blocks. He walked over and did the same to his daughter. Arianne bowed her head to make the task easier on him. He patted her cheek with one gloved hand. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you are safe enough to feel so bored these days.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Glad I could help. See if you can get our enemies off our land so that I can begin cleaning up your mess, father.”

  “I’ll see if I have time after finding the perfect rock or shell.”

  He stepped away and made his way back out through the front doors.

  Belsh jumped to his feet from the step. “Captain?”

  The messenger was closer to Drethallen’s age than he was to Berengar’s. He half expected the boy to run into the Captain’s arms and ask for a shell souvenir from the adventure. The Captain considered ordering the boy to stay and protect his daughter. If he left him here in the apartment, he stood a better chance of surviving.