Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03

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Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03 Page 63

by Toby Neighbors


  “Don’t drink all of that,” Mansel said. “I’ll want some when I’m done with this one.”

  “What are you going to do to him?” Miriam asked, the worry in her voice evident.

  “Find out who he is for starters,” said Zollin. “Learn why his companions were trying to rob us.”

  “Are you going to hurt him?”

  “That depends on how cooperative he is,” Zollin said.

  The man was moaning in pain and quickly growing weaker.

  “Who are you?” Mansel demanded.

  “Help me, my leg’s broken,” the man moaned.

  “That’s not all that will be broken if you don’t start talking,” Mansel threatened.

  “I’m, I’m Brayford. Please help me.”

  “I will help you,” Zollin said.

  He reached out with his mind and felt the shattered bones around the outlaw’s left leg. The damage was extensive and healing it would have taken hours. Instead he blocked the nerves around the wound. It felt like he was sticking his finger into a crack in a large water reservoir. He had stopped the pain for the moment, but his efforts would only last a short while.

  “Oh,” said Brayford, the relief evident in his voice. “That’s better.”

  “Why did you attack us?” Mansel asked.

  “We didn’t attack you. We just wanted your valuables, that’s all. We have families to feed.”

  “This is not the way to do it,” Zollin said.

  “Were there any more of your band? Mansel asked. “Will they be waiting for us along the road ahead?”

  “No,” the man said, shaking his head. “It was just the five of us.”

  “There’s only three of you now, your companions fled, but two of them will never bother another living soul.”

  “I’m sorry,” said the outlaw as tears coursed down his cheeks. “We shouldn’t have done this. I’m so sorry.”

  “You’re a thief and a liar,” Mansel spat at the man, then turned to Zollin. “What should we do?”

  “The King’s law is clear,” Zollin said. “Outlaws who raise arms against their countrymen should be hanged.”

  “There’s no good trees,” Mansel said.

  “You aren’t going to kill him,” Miriam said.

  “He’s an outlaw.”

  “And you’ve never done anything wrong?” she questioned.

  “Sure we have, but we’ve never attacked innocent people along the highway. We don’t have the time or the resources to take care of the man. Leaving him alone here would be crueler than a quick death.”

  “No, no, no, please,” Brayford begged. “Don’t kill me.”

  “What other choices do we have?” Zollin asked her.

  It was obvious that Miriam was torn. She knew that what Zollin said was true, but it went against every instinct she had to kill the man. Just knowing that Mansel had killed two others made her stomach twist in knots and threaten to make her vomit.

  “These men would have robbed and beaten us, then left us for dead. They would have done worse to you,” Mansel argued. “They don’t deserve to live, any of them.”

  “But who are we to pass judgment on them?”

  “We were the victims they intended to abuse and steal from,” Mansel said hotly.

  “They were caught in the act,” Zollin said. “This man was part of them. In fact, he tried to kill Mansel with a longbow.”

  He understood Miriam’s compassion. Now that the danger had passed, the idea of killing the outlaw seemed repugnant, but so did allowing the man to live and hurt others.

  “Can’t you heal him?” Miriam asked.

  “No, it would take too long.”

  “But we can’t keep riding all night,” she argued. “We could make camp and rest while you healed him.”

  “I told you we would be pushing hard for Orrock. I won’t waste time healing this man while Brianna suffers at the hands of her captors.”

  “Well, then I’ll stay with him. I don’t normally work on humans, but a broken leg is a broken leg.”

  “His knee is shattered. He’ll never walk without a crutch, and he might even lose the leg. There is very little you can do for him.”

  “I can ease his pain,” she argued. “I can help get him to a town or village where he can recover.”

  “And how will he pay for his recovery? How will he earn a living? He’s already turned to crime and that was when he was perfectly healthy.”

  “I can change. I swear it,” begged Brayford.

  “If he were a horse, what would you diagnose?” Zollin asked.

  Miriam’s face fell. She saw the logic in his argument, even though she hated the outcome. Still, she wasn’t so stubborn that she would argue anymore.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Zollin didn’t know if she were saying it to him or to the outlaw. He looked at Mansel who nodded and said, “I’ll catch up with you.”

  “Alright,” Zollin said. “Come on, Miriam, let’s go.”

  Mansel had taken a torch from the supplies behind his saddle. Zollin waved his hand and the torch crackled to life, while at the same time the light from his staff faded. He felt his energy flagging as well. The man on the ground was crying, so he cast one last spell, and the man fell asleep. He didn’t want Jax to hear the outlaw screaming for mercy before Mansel killed him.

  They rode on, into the darkness. Zollin felt Jax leaning against him, his breathing slow and steady. The excitement had passed and Jax was able to sleep easily. He wondered if his own dreams would be as gentle, or if he would see the outlaw begging for mercy that he would not receive. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t his fault, but he didn’t have to drop the man. He could have lowered him to the ground just as easily. He tried to shake off the feelings of guilt and fear, but they were relentless.

  A few minutes later, Mansel came riding up behind them, his torch illuminating the small group. They rode through the night in silence, hoping that the light of a new day would ease the awkwardness between them.

  Chapter 32

  It was the next morning before Brianna saw Edina again. The petite servant brought her breakfast. The day was bright and the air through the windows was fresh. Still, Brianna felt like a prisoner. She had not seen or heard from Branock since the morning before. Edina had a tray of food, much like the day before, only this time she was accompanied by a large man in light armor, armed with a short, two edged sword that reminded Brianna of Quinn’s weapon. He wore the uniform of the King’s Royal Guard and waited just inside the doorway.

  Brianna was worried that the guard was there to monitor their conversation, but Edina did not seem bothered.

  “This is Helston,” she informed Brianna. “He will accompany you wherever you go today.”

  “I can leave the room?” Brianna asked.

  “That was what I was instructed to tell you. If you try to escape, he will bring you back and you will be confined to your room. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, eat your breakfast. It is a beautiful day, and you need your strength.”

  Edina tidied up the room while Brianna ate, then combed her hair and made sure she was presentable.

  “You know you don’t have to do this,” Brianna said.

  “It is my duty, my lady,” Edina said, winking at the young captive.

  Brianna didn’t argue anymore. She wanted so badly to ask questions, but she knew better than to say anything in front of Helston.

  When Edina left, Brianna waited for the bulky soldier to order her out of the room. Instead, he stood as still as a statue, neither speaking nor even looking at her. Finally, after waiting for over an hour, she asked what was on her mind.

  “Aren’t you supposed to take me somewhere?”

  “My orders are to make sure you don’t leave the castle grounds,” the big man said gruffly.

  “So I can just go wherever I want as long as I stay inside the castle?”

  The soldier ignored her. Bri
anna frowned in frustration. She chided herself silently for wasting an hour. She needed to explore the castle and make sure she knew her way around. She would need to know the layout if she was going to escape, and she also needed to be able to show Zollin the way back inside so that he could help King Felix.

  She walked to the door and waited for a moment, but Helston still did not look at her. She opened the door, which was no longer locked. It swung open easily and she stepped through into the room, which she saw Branock had now lined with books. There were tall, sturdy looking book cases on every wall, most of them already filled with books.

  “Where did all this come from?” she asked her guard, but Helston did not speak.

  “Were you ordered not to talk to me, or are you always this quiet?”

  Still no answer came, so she pushed on. She tried the outer door and it, too, swung open. She turned up the hallway and found the finely carved doors again. She traced her hand over the images but didn’t try to open the doors. She wanted to find Edina or another of the servants to give her a guided tour, but she doubted that they would be allowed to do that. She found the stairs and wound her way down to the second level. There she found a large, rectangular hallway lined with rooms on either side. She circled the hallway, seeing that some rooms were open and empty. Others were closed, but voices could be heard talking inside. Still other rooms were occupied by people doing work or lounging on the rich furnishings. They looked up and stared at her, but none spoke.

  On the lower level she found the servants busy at work. Most were cleaning or cooking, but others seemed to be hurrying from one place to the next. Most were talking and laughing, but they fell silent when she approached. At first she thought it was because she was Branock’s prisoner, but then she realized that they treated all of the castle’s inhabitants that way. She wandered into the grand audience chamber, which was also the feasting hall. There were ornate tapestries depicting the Kings of Yelsia leading armies or slaying ferocious beasts. She was looking at them when she heard giggling from one of the anterooms. She knew instinctively that the smart thing was to move in the other direction, but she was curious. She gave Helston a look to see what he thought of the sound, but his face was as impassive as ever.

  She continued to study the tapestries, but she was no longer paying attention to what she was seeing. Instead she heard the unmistakable sounds of flirting. It reminded her of being in essentials school. She had often flirted with the boys who were constantly performing for her attention. Then she thought of Zollin, shy and reclusive. He had never really attracted her attention, and she wondered how she could have missed him. Of course, he had been older, but plenty of the older boys had flirted with her. Many had even made offers to her father for her hand in marriage, but luckily he had turned them all down. She wondered if Quinn had made an offer for her. She didn’t know, but she made a mental note to ask him about it when she escaped.

  “Don’t make me beg,” said a pouty feminine voice.

  “I grow tired of these games,” said a familiar voice.

  Brianna tried hard to place it. It took her longer than she expected.

  “Don’t I please you anymore?” said the woman.

  “No, I am not pleased. Send her away,” said the man. “Send them all away, steward.”

  The giggling stopped and Brianna pretended to be fascinated with a small bit of stitching on one of the tapestries.

  “You are to blame for this, wizard,” accused the voice.

  Then it hit her, it was Prince Simmeron’s voice. She ignored the scantily clad women who were hurried out of the room by the small statured steward that she remembered from the night she and Branock arrived at the castle.

  “Soon you will have the world at your feet, highness,” said Branock, his silky voice making Brianna’s blood run cold.

  “It’s your constant worrying and scheming. I prefer a peaceful palace. More fun and less strategy.”

  “I apologize, my lord,” said Branock. “I shall not bother you again with these paltry affairs.”

  “Good, I’m glad of it. I have enough on my mind, with an ailing father and a kingdom to rule.”

  Then came another voice, this one different than the others.

  “My lord Prince,” it said. “May I introduce Owant of Osla.”

  There was a pause and Brianna wasn’t trying to hide her interest anymore. She was still in the grand hall, but close to the double outer doors, which were towering, wooden carvings that swung easily on brass hinges. One was closed, but the other was propped open. Beyond was another chamber, but Brianna couldn’t see into it. The sound, however, carried easily over the polished stone floor.

  “Prince Simmeron, it is always good to be summoned by royalty,” said a voice that Brianna thought was smug, considering the company.

  “The good Prince did not summon you,” said Branock in a lofty tone. “I did. We have work for you and your minions.”

  “The Mezzlyn are always at your service, Branock,” Owant said, but he said the wizard’s name with disdain.

  “You were wise to heed my warning not to return to Osla.”

  “You promised gold,” Owant reminded him.

  “I promised you work,” said Branock. “Work for which you will be handsomely rewarded.”

  “I await your command.”

  “This has to be kept quiet,” said Simmeron. “And I don’t want to know the details.”

  Brianna heard his boots slapping on the stone floor, and she again turned her attention to the tapestry. The voices had waited as the Prince exited the room, and Brianna’s heart was beating like mad as she feigned interest in the stitching once again. The footsteps grew louder as the Prince made his way into the great hall, then suddenly they stopped.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  Brianna turned around, trying to look surprised. The Prince looked angry at first, but then his face changed. His eyes roamed her body in a way that made her extremely uncomfortable.

  “We haven’t had the pleasure,” he said in a haughty tone. “I am Prince Simmeron,” he said.

  “Hello,” Brianna said, not sure what to say.

  “Most people bow to the King,” he prompted.

  “Oh, yes, I’m sorry,” she said, giving a slight curtsey that her mother would have scolded her for.

  “You are new to the castle?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am Brianna, from Tranaugh Shire.”

  “Oh, you’re Branock’s captive. How exciting. You don’t seem like a fugitive. Shouldn’t you be in the dungeons?”

  Brianna realized that the prince was trying to tease or make a joke. It was awkward and not funny at all, but she smiled anyway, not wanting to make him angry.

  “Helston is my guard,” she said in a small voice.

  “Oh, and a good one, too, I suppose. Who did you have to bribe to get this choice assignment, Helston?”

  The guard didn’t respond to the prince’s poor attempt at humor and Simmeron grimaced. He walked up to the soldier, who towered over him. Simmeron was of average height, with stringy hair that fell around his shoulders, which were slumped. He wasn’t grossly overweight, but he had a round belly and plump arms that were crammed into his silky shirt like sausages.

  “Answer your King, soldier, or you’ll find yourself posted to the highlands for the rest of your career,” Simmeron ordered.

  “I was assigned by the captain of the guard,” Helston said. “I didn’t bribe anyone for anything.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t. You are relieved, sir,” the prince said.

  “But my liege, the captain gave specific orders-”

  Simmeron cut him off mid-sentence. “And I give the captain orders. You are relieved, now be gone!”

  “Yes, my lord,” Helston said, looking agitated.

  Simmeron and Brianna watched the soldier stalk away. Brianna felt a new sense of dread rising up in her stomach. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she was sure it wasn’t going to be good.
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  “Now, that’s better. I prefer to spend time with my friends alone,” Simmeron said.

  “Are we friends, my lord?” Brianna said uneasily.

  “Of course we are. Let me show you around the castle.”

 

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