“Gee, hungry?” Sarah asked.
“Hungrier than I thought, I guess,” Sam said, looking to the King, who was smiling at him.
“Leave him alone, Sarah,” Leodan said. “He’s grown accustomed to bad food in the last month. Alsted wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Sarah said, “I know all about the food. I’m in the academy, too, remember?”
It was strange to watch them squabble. Sam couldn’t imagine speaking to the King the way Sarah spoke to him; almost as if she didn’t even think of Leodan as a king at all. Her parents must be really loaded for her to be able to get away with that, Sam thought. Either that or King Leodan is the most laid-back king ever.
“We should probably be getting you back,” Sarah said. “It’s probably dark by now. Wouldn’t want Abeth to catch you out after the sun’s gone down. Come on, I’ll see you to the door.”
Sam had the feeling that Sarah was trying to rub his face in something, but he couldn’t tell what it was. Was she trying to impress him perhaps?
He scooted his chair back and walked around the table to where Sarah was standing. “Thank you for having me,” he said to the King.
“You’re welcome, Sam,” Leodan said. “It was good meeting you. Good luck with your training.”
“Thanks.”
Sam followed Sarah out of the Banquet Hall and through the Hall of Ages. But instead of leading him to the front doors, she led him up the staircase, choosing to go left when they reached the divide.
“This isn’t the way out,” Sam said.
“Of course it’s not,” Sarah said. “I want to show you something before you go.”
As they went up the stairs, they passed into a tower and the stairs began to spiral upward. They climbed stair after stair until Sam feared that all the food he had just eaten might come rushing back up.
Finally, they reached the top, and Sarah opened a small wooden door, leading them onto a balcony which overlooked the village. Sam could see lamps burning and had a bird’s eye view of the shops and cottages.
“Beautiful isn’t it?”
Sam nodded. Past the village, Sam thought he could make out the edge of the forest, but it was getting too dark to tell for sure. “Do you get to go wherever you want in the castle?” he asked.
“For the most part.”
“And the King doesn’t mind?”
“Not really.”
“Lucky you,” Sam said.
“What’s the matter? Jealous?”
“Me? No. Well, maybe a little bit. It would sure beat living with a bunch of guys.”
“I don’t know about that,” Sarah said.
“I’d trade you any day.”
Sarah seemed to concentrate on something in the distance. “I’m not complaining really,” she said. “It’s just that sometimes it’s very lonely here. Almost like I’m a prisoner.”
“If you’re a prisoner then I’m the King’s jester.”
“The King doesn’t have a jester, so I guess there’s an opening, but it would mean giving up your dream of being the greatest warrior who ever lived.”
“We both know I’m not that,” Sam said.
The wind picked up; it was stronger on the balcony. It was cold and brought the promise of winter with it.
Sarah turned to him and said, “I think you will make a fine warrior, Sam.”
“You’re not too shabby yourself, you know,” Sam said.
She stepped close to him. Sam sensed that something was about to happen. Sarah leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. It was the first time he had been kissed by a woman other than his mother, and for a moment he felt lightheaded.
“What was that for?”
“For coming tonight,” Sarah said. “And for keeping me company.”
Sam couldn’t find the right words; his mouth became very dry and his tongue suddenly felt too large for his mouth, but, luckily, Sarah spoke for him.
“I should let you get back,” she said. “You’re already out past curfew. If Abeth catches you, he’s liable to do something rash. Can you find your way out?”
Sam, feeling dizzy and like he was about to faint, managed to say, “Yeah, I think so. Aren’t you coming down?”
“I think I’ll stay up here for a while. Goodbye, Sam. See you tomorrow?”
“Definitely. See you tomorrow.” He walked back to the door, turning around to say something else before he left, but Sarah’s back was to him as she leaned against the stone and gazed out on the kingdom.
The way down was much easier. Sam was still reeling from Sarah’s kiss; so much so that he was nearly floating with joy as he walked down the steps. He thought briefly of the walk back to the living quarters, of how much trouble he might be in if he ran into Abeth, but at that particular moment fear couldn’t touch him. It was as though he had finished drinking an invincibility potion.
As he reached the spot on the steps where the left stairwell rejoined the main staircase, Sam could hear voices nearby. He skipped down the remaining steps, unable to hear what the muffled voices were saying. He got as far as the crimson rug with the blue-eyed lion on it, when he heard the King’s voice.
It was coming from one of the rooms along the north wall. Against his better judgment, Sam silently made his way to the door. Someone had left it ajar. Sam cautiously poked his head around the gap. He saw a sturdy wooden table in the center of the room with maps strewn on it. The room was lit with an orange flickering glow, and he saw King Leodan, Alsted, Vigor Volatine, and another man he didn’t recognize. King Leodan had his hands planted on the table as he leaned forward over the map.
“Are you sure about this?” Leodan asked, looking at Alsted.
Alsted nodded solemnly. “It comes from a reliable source.”
“We knew this was bound to happen sooner or later,” Volatine said.
“And now it may be too late,” a short man only slightly taller than Alsted said. He was bald like Alsted as well, but clean-shaven and emaciated-looking. He wore a black robe that made his pale face appear almost ghostly.
“Unless we act soon,” Alsted said. “He grows more powerful by the day.”
“What would you suggest we do?” Leodan asked. “Assemble the army?”
Alsted said, “That’s what he’s doing isn’t it? And when his army is large enough, he’ll march in here and destroy everything. We need to be on the offensive. Better him than us.”
“I’m not prepared to do that,” Leodan said. “Not yet. If we commit the first act of aggression, the other kingdoms might frown upon it. The last thing I want to do is jeopardize our alliances.” The King’s finger traced a path along the map. “But let’s not treat any of this lightly. Send messengers to the surrounding towns, villages, and kingdoms. Let them know what we know.”
“I’ll have riders depart first thing in the morn,” Alsted said grumpily as he adjusted his eyepatch. “Felgorn can deliver word to the ogre tribes. It’s fifty-fifty whether we could expect help from any of them.”
“How great is his army? Do we know?”
Alsted shrugged. “Rumors mostly.”
“There is no shortage of dark mages and wizards ready to join him,” Volatine said. “Those living on the fringes that would gladly take up his cause. There is much bad blood regarding the regulation of magic, and the extremists have pushed for many years to lift the ban on the creation spells.”
The thin bald man stepped forward and said, “As you know, Demälikar is skilled in necromancy, so we can trust that he will raise the dead to fight for him.”
“Which is what we have you and the other priests for, Finnaeus,” Leodan said.
“Yes, but if he brings the legions of the dead, we’ll be sorely outnumbered.”
“Then I guess it is well that you have an abundance of faith,” Leodan said. “Let us be prepared.”
Sam heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He wheeled around in time to see Beaugard appear from a room to the right of the staircase. He was busy lock
ing the door behind him and hadn’t seen Sam yet.
Sam tiptoed across the room quickly, reaching the main doors and opening them as quietly as he could. The guards standing watch on the outside parted as he slipped out, closing the door behind him. Sam passed silently down the path and through the square.
He was prepared for Abeth to jump out of the shadows at any moment during his return to the living quarters, but the old caretaker was nowhere to be seen. He let himself quietly into the living quarters where the other boys were already asleep. The room was nearly pitch black, and Sam took great care not to stumble into anything as he navigated the darkness and made his way to his bed. He removed his boots and slid into bed, Curtis’s steady snore coming from the bed next to him.
As he lay in bed, he went over what he had overheard Leodan and the other men saying while he was eavesdropping. And he remembered the name they had spoken of: Demälikar. Who was he? Was he really building an army? But as sleep settled over him, his thoughts turned to Sarah and the kiss she had given him, which even now burned on his cheek.
CHAPTER TEN
THE NATURAL
The next morning, Curtis had started badgering him about what dinner with the King had been like, and Sam couldn’t blame him. If their roles had been reversed, Sam would have reacted the same way. The fact that he had also had dinner with Sarah seemed to be of secondary importance to his best friend.
“Did you meet him? What was he like? What did you eat? Was it awesome?”
The questions flooded out of Curtis’s mouth even as Sam was still wiping the sleep from his bloodshot eyes.
“Quit stalling,” Curtis said. “I want to hear all about it. Every little detail.”
So as Sam dressed hurriedly, he told Curtis all about dinner with the King, Sarah’s kiss, and finished by telling him about what he had heard the roomful of men saying about a man named Demälikar.
But Curtis seemed to disregard this bit of news. He said, “She did what?”
“She kissed me,” Sam said. “Only on the cheek though.”
“I totally knew it. You are boyfriend and girlfriend!”
“We didn’t talk about anything like that.”
“But she kissed you didn’t she?”
“Yeah, but it was on the cheek. It’s not a big deal.” He already regretted telling Curtis about the kiss. It was a juicy piece of news, and he wasn’t sure, loyal friend or not, if Curtis would be able to keep it to himself.
Who’s he going to tell though? Sam thought. You’re his only friend. And on the heels of that came a more disturbing thought: She’ll know. As soon as she sees his face, she’ll know I told him.
“Not a big deal? It’s huge!”
“Would you keep your voice down,” Sam said. “Nobody’s supposed to know.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s a secret. You know I won’t tell anyone. But what about what’s her name? Does this mean you won’t be meeting her?”
“I don’t see what one has to do with the other,” Sam said. “In fact, that reminds me that I’m supposed to meet Lilah today after training. Are you still coming?”
“What, and miss out on the chance to sneak off into the woods, meet a girl from a different school, while you secretly learn magic without permission and run the risk of getting us kicked out and have to explain that to my parents? How could I not go?”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Aren’t you the least bit worried?”
“You do enough worrying for the both of us,” Sam said.
Sarah wasn’t very talkative during breakfast that morning.
Is she mad at me? Sam had wondered. Maybe she regrets doing it.
He searched his brain for something to say; some subtle way of letting her know that he had enjoyed their time together, but the words refused to come. She seemed to avoid eye contact with him, and her silence made him fear the worst. Had someone caught him spying on the King? Worse yet, had she decided that she liked another boy better? Or perhaps because he had been speechless after she had kissed him, she took that to mean he wasn’t interested?
These were all silly thoughts, but Sam couldn’t stop them from coming.
“You’re awful quiet,” Curtis said to Sarah, saying the words that Sam couldn’t, a slight smile on his face.
She hadn’t touched her oatmeal; just moved her spoon back and forth in it. “Just thinking,” she said.
Sam finally found his voice and said, “I had fun last night.”
Curtis’s smile widened.
Sarah glanced up from her oatmeal. “You told him didn’t you?”
“That we had dinner? Well…yeah.”
“What else did you tell him?”
“Nothing.”
“He only told me about you and him having dinner with the King,” Curtis said, but didn’t sound very convincing.
She fixed her eyes on Sam. “I knew it! You told him about what happened in the tower!”
It was no use denying it. “Sorry,” Sam said, “but I needed to tell someone. He won’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t,” Curtis agreed.
“That’s not the point! And they say girls are bad! Ugh…boys!”
Sarah stood up and stormed out of the mess hall in a huff, leaving her untouched bowl of oatmeal sitting on the table.
“You blew it,” Curtis said. “Face it, for someone with so many secrets to keep, you’re not a very good liar.”
“No thanks to you.”
Sam tried repeatedly during training to get Sarah’s attention, but she refused to look at him or anywhere in his general direction for that matter.
“I should go talk to her,” Sam said.
“Are you out of your mind? I wouldn’t. Give her time to cool off,” Curtis said. “She’s less likely to slice your head off.”
They spent the first half of the morning reading the beginning chapters of their textbook, Unarmed Combat: How to Win Without a Sword by Julius Kurtbrough. Alsted would select a boy at random to read a paragraph or two, and then skip to someone else, until they had finished chapters one and two.
When they returned after lunch (Sarah hadn’t been there), they began the hands-on portion of their training. Felgorn demonstrated most of the techniques before allowing them to practice. The ogre chose Sam to be the test dummy for one, which turned out to be a type of chokehold. Felgorn wrapped his arm around Sam’s throat and applied pressure. Sam was sure the ogre was taking it easy on him, but even so he felt his air cut off immediately, and he kicked and thrashed to no avail. Felgorn kept him in the chokehold easily, as though Sam weren’t resisting at all.
Afterward, Sam had taken his place back in line next to Curtis, his face eventually returning to its normal color.
Sam, as usual, partnered up with Curtis. Looking at his slightly taller friend, Sam was anxious to apply what they had learned, still harboring some resentment for the way Curtis, intentionally or not, had sold him out to Sarah.
“Okay,” Sam said. “Act like you’re going to hit me.”
Curtis stepped forward, bringing his right arm around in a slow motion roundhouse punch. Sam stepped forward with his left foot, threw his left arm up, and blocked his friend’s fake attack. In one fluid motion, he rapped his left arm around Curtis’s right arm and lifted upwards as though he were getting a solid grip on an armful of firewood. Curtis grimaced in pain as his arm was twisted the wrong way.
Sam released the hold, spun around so that he was behind Curtis, and put his arm around Curtis’s throat. He tensed his bicep, squeezing, grabbing the wrist of his left arm with his right hand and pulling back to increase the pressure.
Curtis struggled, his boots digging little runnels in the ground, but Sam only increased the pressure. After a moment, Curtis tapped Sam’s right leg with his hand, which Alsted had told them was the universal signal for giving up – at least for training purposes. “In real life,” Alsted had said. “There isn’t any tapping out.”
Sam didn’t stop right away. He
kept the hold going for another few seconds and then released Curtis.
Curtis fell forward, caught his balance, and coughed. “What was that for?”
“What was what for?”
“You didn’t let me go when I tapped out.”
“I must not have noticed right away. Sorry.”
“You did that on purpose.”
“Prove it,” Sam said, smiling. “Besides, that’ll teach you to keep a secret better.”
The anger drained from Curtis’s face. “You’re still sore about that?”
“Yeah, I’m sore. Now Sarah thinks I just go around blabbing to everybody.”
“Listen, I can talk to her if you want. Tell her I badgered it out of you.”
“Then she’ll think I’m a wimp,” Sam said.
“Sam, I’m sorry. I’ll figure out a way to fix it,” Curtis said.
It was a genuine apology.
You can’t go on being mad at him forever, Sam thought. He doesn’t deserve all the blame. You should have kept your mouth shut.
He glanced at Curtis, who stood several feet away, looking suitably grief-stricken.
“All right,” Sam said. “You’re forgiven. But you have to help me with damage control.”
Curtis tilted his head up, put his hand on his chin, and squinted at the sun, pretending to be deep in thought. “Tell you what,” he said. “What if I stay behind, and while you’re off with the mage girl, I’ll try to talk to Sarah during dinner. Let her know you’re pure of heart, chivalrous, all that stuff. Maybe I can smooth things over.”
Sam was reluctant to let Curtis do smoothing over of any kind, but at this point he didn’t see any other course of action. And who knew? Maybe Curtis could pull it off.
“Okay, but just remember – think before you speak.”
“It’s like Alsted told us,” Curtis said. “Your mouth is your best weapon.”
“Right. When it’s connected to your brain.”
They had agreed to meet on the edge of the forest, but whoever got there first would wait hidden behind the first set of trees so that no one would spot them going off together. Sam might have attracted enough unwanted attention venturing off into the forest alone, but being seen with Lilah would have caused quite a stir. The rumors that would grow out of that were the stuff of nightmares; bad if they were anything like Curtis had suggested – about Sam juggling two girls, but worse yet if anyone discovered what was really going on.
Sam Finch and the Zombie Hybrid (Sam Finch Series Book 1) Page 10
