Free the Darkness (King's Dark Tidings Book 1) (30 page)

Even so, Rezkin nodded and stated, “
Rule 1 –
Protect and honor your friends
.”

Jimson looked thoughtful and smiled as he replied, “Yes,
that is a decent rule by which to live.” He glanced at the horizon and
continued, “The sun will be up soon, and if it is alright with you, sir, we
should be moving before the blood and bodies attract predators.”

The group collected their belongings, and after making sure
Pride was calmed, Rezkin strapped his new friends’ packs to the horse’s back.
The battle charger was still agitated by the scent of blood, and his instincts
and training made him more aggressive. Frisha kept her distance from the beast,
sure that it was possessed by a demon.

“I’ve never seen a horse act like that. He didn’t try to run
away. He was actually
attacking
people. It was terrifying,” she
commented at one point.

Lieutenant Jimson nodded beside her, “That is the way of
battle chargers. They are trained to not only carry their rider into combat but
to participate, as well. Keeping one for a mount requires a firm hand and
extreme dominance, characteristics that most people lack.”

“
That
is a real battle charger?” Tam asked in
surprise as he gaped openly at the massive steed.

The lieutenant looked at him quizzically. “Yes, they are
rare outside of the upper military ranks. Even most of the cavalry do not have
fully trained battle chargers, usually just the cast-offs or those that did not
make the cut. The Royal Guard ride them only when escorting the king outside
the palace walls, and the higher-ups in command ride them, as do the strikers.”
The lieutenant peered at Rezkin out of the corner of his eye, “The average
commoner could not get one.”

Tam, secure in his characterization of Rezkin, asked the
young warrior, “Is that right, Rez? How did you get one?”

Rezkin shrugged, “I took him from my home when I left. There
was no one else to keep him, and I needed a horse. I had already trained with
him, so it was not a problem.”

“Did you grow up in a castle – like a lord’s estate?”
Tam asked curiously. This was the first time he had heard anything about
Rezkin’s home.

“It was more like a fort,” Rezkin replied.

“Oh, that explains it – why you seem to have that
military bearing even though you’re not in the army,” said Tam. “Did your
parents work there?”

Rezkin shrugged, “I never met them.”

“You’re an orphan?” Frisha asked with compassion.

“I do not know. I never really considered it much. They
could be alive somewhere, but I would not know who they are.”

“So, who raised you?” she asked curiously.

“The men at the fort. They trained me as well as they could so
that I could one day become a grown man and fulfill my purpose. And, now I am,”
he replied without embellishment.

“Oh, yes, you are…” Frisha sighed wistfully before catching
herself, “-grown, I mean. You’re obviously a grown man…and…very capable.” The embarrassed
young woman blushed and ducked her head. Tam snickered beside her, which she
followed with an elbow to his ribs.

For seven more days, the weary travelers traversed the soft,
grassy hills and sparsely wooded rises. No more incidents occurred, although
there was much conjecture about the rather large gang of bandits they had
encountered. It was unusual for so many to mass together and then employ such a
well-organized, ambitious operation as they had on the river. Many hypotheses were
postulated and even a few whispered of the elusive
rebels
.

By the time the companions arrived in Lorelis at midday on
the eighth day, they were tired, dirty, and in want of a hot bath and soft bed.
Frisha noticed her pants were a little loose around the middle and made a
mental note to take them in when she had the opportunity. After disembarking
from the ferry that shuttled them across the Lorelis River, Rezkin, Tam and
Frisha acquired a couple of rooms at an inn on the north side of town and
waited for Lieutenant Jimson to call on them. The lieutenant and his men had
reported to the fort straight away, and he had mentioned that the commander
might wish to speak with them.

After eating a hearty meal and washing, Rezkin could not sit
still. He finally decided to run a few errands while the others rested. He gave
his dirty laundry to an overly zealous maid and filled his coin purse before
heading into the town. Since Lorelis was not a capital city, it was much
smaller than Justain but still a decent size. Both the river and the
north-south trade route that ran through the town were named for the city, and
as such, it was a primary distribution center filled with many warehouses.

Lacking the cultural attraction and far from most influences
of the nobility, the city remained largely functional. Fort Maneske was located
at the edge of the city and served as the primary military post for troops west
of the River Straei, so the city’s culture was largely influenced by the
presence of the soldiers. As such, crime was fairly low and lacked the
organized guild structure that existed in the larger cities.

Rezkin made his way to the market and procured a new shirt
and pants to replace the bloodstained set he had worn the night of the battle.
Next, he resupplied his medical kit since he had used many of the bandages,
ointments and herbs to treat the wounded soldiers. Finally, he found a decent,
serviceable two-handed longsword to fit Tam. The weapon was not an expert blade
by any means, but it far surpassed the quality of the general issue swords the
soldiers had been carrying. Most importantly, the blade was perfectly balanced
and held a razor sharp edge. The young man was built well enough to handle a
two-handed weapon, but Rezkin had another reason for his choice. In the army,
only the front lines of infantry were afforded shields, and if Tam enlisted
with his own two-handed sword, it was less likely he would be placed on the
front lines.

While he was examining the blade, Rezkin got an idea. He did
not feel comfortable with Frisha confronting her assailants in close combat.
The woman was slight and lacked the aggression and confidence necessary for a
decent swordsman, or woman, as it were. It would also be considered unseemly in
polite society
for a woman to carry a sword. Rezkin did not care for
such pretentiousness, but for all her talk and efforts to learn the sword,
Frisha had refused to actually carry one. Rezkin inquired with the blacksmith
and obtained a set of well-balanced, lightweight throwing knives. The knives
were small and could easily fit in the young woman’s petite hands.

Upon returning to the inn, he found his
friends
enjoying cool ale and relaxing among the few patrons who were beginning to
trickle in before the dinner rush. He placed his clothing package to the side
and laid the sword on the table in front of Tam.

“This is for you,” he stated unceremoniously.

Tam’s eyes widened, “What? Are you serious?”

“Of course,” Rezkin replied. “You are in need of a weapon
other than that dagger you carry. This one is the right size and weight for you
and is better quality than what you will receive in the army. We can continue
your training on the way to Kaibain.”

Tam was speechless. He did not know what to say. He could
probably have worked an entire year as an apprentice and not been able to
afford this sword. The hilt was wrapped in green silk cord, and the scabbard
was covered in soft brown leather. He pulled the blade partially from the
sheath, since it would be considered rude to fully draw the weapon in the inn,
and examined the blade. He did not know much about determining the quality of a
sword, but he trusted in Rezkin’s expertise.

“Rez, I don’t know what to say. This gift is too grand. I
don’t think I can accept it,” the words caught in his throat as he said them
because he really, really wanted this sword.

Rezkin held up a hand and shook his head. He knew this would
be coming since it was part of the
Polite Social Skills
he had learned.
Anyone other than very close family should always attempt to reject a costly
gift prior to accepting. It was now Rezkin’s turn to make some placating
statement. The whole exchange seemed frivolous since, in the end, the recipient
was still supposed to end up with the item or risk offending the other party.

“You do not have to consider it a gift. It is more of an
acquisition of necessary provisions, if you like. We still have a ways to
travel, and you need a weapon. Besides, it is difficult to train someone to use
a sword if he does not have one.”

Frisha laid a hand on Tam’s arm, “Oh, Tam, it’s so nice, and
you really do need one. You
must
accept Rez’s gift.”

“I am glad you feel that way, Frisha,” Rezkin said with
relief. He did not feel like having to go through the whole charade again with
her. He laid a leather-wrapped bundle on the table in front of her. “These are
for you.”

Frisha’s lips pursed in a surprised ‘o’ as she untied the
leather cord and rolled out the package. Inside were six tiny, shiny knives.
The lamplight gleamed off the silvery blades as if fire elementals danced
within the metal. The knives did not have a handle or hilt, but the tang was
polished and smooth like the blades with the figure of a hawk in flight etched
into each one. They were beautiful.

“Are these throwing knives?” the young woman asked.

“Yes, I think it will be a good weapon for you and will
allow you to maintain your distance from any attackers. I will train you to use
them properly so you do not hurt yourself.”

“Wow, Rez, it’s like Winterfest! Thank you so much,” Frisha
replied.

“Yes, thank you, Rez. I really do appreciate this, and I
will train hard in honor of your generosity,” Tam said.

Rezkin nodded once, “If I cannot protect you at all times,
then I can at least make sure you can protect yourselves.”

Tam glanced up and was the first to notice Lieutenant Jimson
standing in the doorway. He waved the lieutenant over and invited him to join
them. Lieutenant Jimson was washed and dressed in a crisp, clean uniform, all of
the buttons and buckles polished to a shine. His face was shaved smooth, and
his short hair was neatly combed. He was the ideal image of a King’s Army
officer.

“Look what Rez gifted me,” Tam said excitedly as he held the
sword in front of him. The lieutenant took the weapon and examined it in much
the same way Rezkin had, except he did not fully draw it in the inn.

He grunted and nodded, “This is a good weapon. Better than
mine.” He looked at Rez and asked, “Perhaps you would be willing to assist me
in procuring a new one once we reach Kaibain. I would rather not use this one
at the tournament, and I will need to practice for a while to get completely
comfortable with a new one before the competition.”

“Of course,” Rezkin replied. “It will be no problem.” The
lieutenant was one of his
friends
, and he would do whatever he could to
help him. He was just glad the soldier already had adequate sword training. It
would be daunting if he
did
continue to find new
friends
and had
to train all of them to protect themselves.

“So,” said the lieutenant, “we can leave for Kaibain the day
after tomorrow. That should give us a bit of time to rest. We are going to have
to go by land, though. There is trouble on the Lorelis River. Colonel Simmons
sent engineers to remove some kind of blockage over a week ago, and no one has
heard back from them. There have also been a few skirmishes with bandits. With
the report I submitted of our troubles, Colonel Simmons thinks something bigger
is happening. He’s sending out a larger force to patrol the river and will be
charging me with delivering a missive to the general in Kaibain.”

“What do you mean by ‘something bigger’?” asked Frisha.

“There have been rumors of some sort of rebel faction. Not
everyone is satisfied with the way King Caydean is running things. Ever since
King Bordran’s untimely death two years ago, there has been talk. Bordran was
not an old man by any means, and he had always been a strong, imposing figure.
He could have ruled for another twenty years, at least.” The others nodded
knowingly, and the lieutenant sighed. “There is more. It is no secret, but it
is not yet widely known, that the king’s brother, Prince Thresson, went missing
two months ago.” Lieutenant Jimson lowered his voice, “Some – not
me
,
mind you, but some – are calling foul against the king.”

“Why would the king want to harm his brother?” asked Frisha
in hushed alarm.

The lieutenant shrugged, “The people who say this think that
the king feels threatened by him. They seem to think the king might have had a
hand in his father’s death. They claim the king is paranoid that the same will
happen to him so he took steps to remove the threat. I am just saying what
some
people say, but I would prefer it if you do not spread it around that I said
so.”

“And, what do
you
think?” Frisha asked in wide-eyed
amazement.

The lieutenant’s face blanked, and he judiciously replied,
“I think it is considered treason to speak against the king.” He gave the young
woman a stern look that said not to ask any more questions.

“Right, of course,” Frisha whispered as she sat back in her
chair.

The lieutenant raised his voice again to a normal level.
“So, partly in thanks for your assistance against the bandits, and partly in
hopes that you will assist me in delivering my message to Kaibain, the colonel
has agreed to lend you a couple of horses. My duty is simply to deliver the
message, and then I will be free to go to the tournament. I had hoped we could
travel together.” This last statement was posed more as a question.

All three nodded assent as Frisha said, “Of course,
lieutenant, you
must
come with us. It would make me feel so much better
having you along. I can’t imagine what would happen if we were attacked on the
trade route.”

The lieutenant glanced at Rezkin and grunted, “I imagine you
would be just fine, but it is better to travel in numbers, just the same.”
Rezkin was listening to the conversation, but much of his attention was focused
on the young woman sitting at a table nearby. She was leaning over a little too
far to be casual, and it was obvious she was listening to their conversation.
He could not see her face since she was mostly turned away, but what he
could
see of her was atypical of outworlder fashion.

Frisha noticed Rezkin was staring at the girl sitting at the
table next to them and could not help the surge of jealousy that heated her
blood. She decided to call him out on his inattention to their conversation.
“Rezkin, what do
you
think?”

Rezkin allowed his eyes to rove over the other patrons to
see if anyone else was acting suspiciously but kept a close eye on the young
woman. “I think it will be advantageous for all parties for the lieutenant to
travel with us. As he said, it is safer to travel in numbers. In addition, he
can assist in training the two of you in the use of your new weapons and help
keep watch during the night. In return, I can ensure that his message is
delivered per his orders. Traveling together to the tournament seems most
efficient since group passage is usually cheaper, and his credentials will make
our travel smoother. Most importantly, though, is that I prefer to keep my
friends
close, so having him with us means I can continue to remain dedicated to
Rule
1
.”

Frisha frowned. She had not thought he was paying attention.
Mostly, she just did not like him staring at another woman.

Lieutenant Jimson smiled and said, “Thank you. I do
appreciate your companionship on this journey. It seems we will be traveling
together for some time, and I would like to consider you all friends. Please,
just call me Jimson or Jim, if you prefer.”

“Yes, please, let us dispense with the formalities. It does
get so tiresome,” Frisha said pleasantly even though her mind was still stewing
over Rezkin’s interest in the woman at the adjacent table.

Rezkin had decided he had enough. Abruptly, and to the
surprise of his
friends
, Rezkin stood and strode over to the table where
the young woman sat listening to their conversation. All three of his
companions were shocked. Tam and Jimson’s jaws were gaping, and Frisha was just
managing to contain her fury…poorly.

“Good evening, Mistress,” Rezkin said with none of his usual
charm. The woman’s back stiffened, and her hands darted below the table.
Without waiting to be asked, Rezkin sat in the seat across from the woman and
leaned forward, holding her with his icy stare. “Since you were so intent on
our conversation, I thought perhaps you would prefer to speak with one of us
directly.”

The woman was young. She could not be any older than Frisha.
She had golden blonde hair swept up into a high tail at the back of her head.
She wore a long brown tunic that went to mid-thigh over loose, dark pants. Her
pants were tucked into high boots like a cavalryman might wear.