Knight Eternal (A Novel of Epic Fantasy) (Harbinger of Doom Volume 3) (5 page)

Mort Zag grabbed Jude, lifted him above his
head, and threw him as if he were but an apple and not an armored
man of well over three hundred pounds. Jude smashed into a thick
oak some twenty feet away. He dropped down unmoving at its
base.

Jude opened his eyes.
Everything hurt. He felt cold, so cold. Blood streamed down his
cheek. He coughed and spat up blood, and coughed again. Then
everything hurt more. His vision was blurred, his mind clouded; it
was difficult to breathe. He felt as if he floated in a fog. Then
he saw Sir Gabriel walking toward him—strangely, Ezerhauten and
Mort Zag walked on either side.

“
Help
me,” Jude said.
I’m saved; it’s Sir
Gabriel.

Sir Gabriel squatted down before him. His
eyes glowed a brilliant gold, an eerie grin on his face.

Jude’s eyes widened in
alarm as he realized who fronted him now; his body shuddered in
fear, though he had no strength to move, no command of his muscles.
“Korrgonn,” he said. “Please—don’t kill me.”
Can’t abandon my brothers.

Jude’s vision grew dark and he saw no
more.

***

“
I told him not go,” said
Ector. Claradon, Duke Harringgold, Angle Theta, Ob, and several
others gathered around the young knight in Harringgold’s
study.

“
I told him it was a trap.
We argued and finally he gave in and said he wouldn’t go himself.
He said he would send a squadron of knights and men-at-arms under
Balfin. Next thing I knew, Indigo burst into my chambers saying
that Jude just rode off leading a dozen men. One dozen. Not even a
half squadron. The idiot.”

“
More muscle than brains
is Jude,” said Ob, nodding.

“
Indigo and I rode after
them with what men we could assemble in a few minutes.

We found them a couple
miles north of Riker’s Crossroads. They were ambushed. Twelve men
dead, including Balfin, Mordekain, Mithras, and
Desmond.”

Claradon and Ob shuddered and winced as he
spoke each name. Each one a friend and comrade of long years.

Ector took a deep breath
before continuing. “Not just dead. They were mutilated. Unspeakable
things were done to them. Some even looked—gnawed upon.”

“
Dead gods,” said Tanch.
“Madness, sheer madness. What did we do to bring this
on?”

“
What of Jude?” said Ob
quietly.

“
He wasn’t there. They
must’ve taken him.”

“
Did you search the wood?”
said Ob perking up. “Could he have run for it?”

“
His horse was down, dead
in the road. They’d pulled a rope up from the brush and tripped the
lead horses. It looked like they fell at a gallop.”

“
He would’ve been thrown,”
said Ob.

“
We found no trail leading
into the woods. They took him.”

“
How many of them did you
find?” asked the Duke.

“
Not a one. They either
took their dead with them, or none were killed.”

“
None killed?” spouted Ob.
“Not likely. Twelve men of House Eotrus didn’t go lightly, I’ll
tell you. Balfin is—was—an expert; Mordekain, a bruiser as strong
as Jude, and Desmond was as tough as nails. Dropped twice their
number at least, ambushed or not. They went down as heroes, and I
will hear nothing different from nobody, understand?” Ob smacked
his fist into his other hand and cursed under his
breath.

Ector stared down at his feet for a
respectful while before continuing. “We came on to Lomion as fast
as we could, chasing at their heels all the way. We got close
enough to see them, but no closer.”

“
Who were they, and how
many?” said Ob, still red-faced and bristling.

“
Fifteen to twenty riders,
plus a large coach that moves like the wind.”

Claradon, Ob, and Theta exchanged
glances.

“
We followed them to the
city, but lost them at the north gate. The guards let the brigands
pass swiftly through, but held us there for many minutes. We were
so close. It was all I could do to not cut the gatemen
down.”

“
Did it seem as if the
guards delayed you on purpose?” said Harringgold. “To let the
brigands get clear?”

“
Maybe, but it’s hard to
say. A Myrdonian Captain gave us a difficult time, asking why we
were riding so hard and what we were about. He just wouldn’t listen
to me or didn’t care, and made no move to stop the coach despite my
pleading.”

“
Did you get the Captain’s
name?” said the Duke.

Ector paused, thinking. “They called him
Bartol.”

Harringgold nodded. “I thought as much.
Captain Bartol is the third son of House Alder, younger brother to
Chancellor Barusa.”

“
Those stinking Alders are
everywhere,” said Ob. “Everywhere there’s dirty dealings and
backstabbings, that is. They’ve never been any good, not one of
them.”

The Duke stood up. “My men will find this
coach.” He strode off to dispatch his agents, leaving Claradon and
his comrades alone in the study.

“
That stinking carriage
again,” said Ob.

“
It’s the Shadow League
for certain,” said Claradon. “Why couldn’t it just be brigands—pay
some ransom and get Jude back? Instead, we’ve got the same crazies
that killed father, Sir Gabriel, and the others. And now they have
Jude too.”

“
We should’ve rooted them
stinking cultists out years ago and been done with them,” said
Ob.

“
Why do they want Jude?”
said Claradon. “To what end? Haven’t they done enough to our
House?”

“
We won’t know why until
we catch them, boy,” said Ob. “And catch them we will.”

***

“
The carriage went through
Southeast,” said Grim Fischer—a gnome, and one of the Duke’s
agents. “Straight to the docks. They rolled it right up a gangway
and onto a ship. Their outriders boarded too, along with their
horses. They set sail as soon as they secured the carriage and
horses below deck.”

“
Which ship was it?” asked
Harringgold.

“
The
White Rose
,” said Grim. “It’s the fastest
ship in Lomion.”

“
Of course it is,” said
Claradon sardonically.

“
A smuggler, reaver, and
all-around ship of ill repute,” said Ob.

“
True enough,” said Grim,
“and captained by one Rastinfan Rascelon.”

“
A no-good raper and
murderer, I hear tell,” said Ob.

“
That and more, but no
one’s given evidence against him,” said Grim.

“
And apparently in the
employ of the Shadow League,” said Claradon.

“
More than that,” said
Harringgold. “We’ve suspected for some time that Rascelon is one of
the League’s Arkons—that’s what they call their highest
leaders.”

“
Did your men see
Korrgonn?” asked Theta.

“
He was
there,” said Grim. “He got out of the carriage just after they
drove it onto
The White
Rose
. He sailed with the
ship.”

“
Are you
certain?”

“
Saw him
myself.”

Theta turned toward the Duke. “I need a
ship.”

Harringgold didn’t immediately answer.

“
Will you give us a ship?
We must track down Korrgonn. He must be stopped.”

“
I know
your feelings on this, Lord Theta. Arranging for a ship that has
any hope of catching
The White Rose
may not be an easy task.”

“
My
Lords,” said Tanch. “Let’s not be hasty here. We’ve agreed that
Korrgonn is a threat—we all want him gone. Well—now he’s gone, of
his own volition. Let him go, I say. Master Fischer has said
The White Rose
was
heavily provisioned. That means a long journey, perhaps months or
more, to who knows where. Just let him go, and keep watch
for
The White Rose
’s return. When it arrives—if it arrives—we can marshal our
forces and be waiting for it with strength, on solid ground of our
choosing. We will have the advantage. But on the river or at sea,
any ship that we could send is vulnerable.”

“
They have Jude, you
idiot,” said Ob. “We’re not to abandon him.”

Tanch looked confused.
“No—no—of course not,” said Tanch, wiping his brow with his sleeve
and looking for a chair. “I’m sorry. The stress of recent days has
gotten to me. I didn’t think—didn’t know what I was saying. Of
course, we must rescue Jude, of course, we must.”

“
Even if Jude wasn’t with
him,” said Ob, “who’s to say what evils Korrgonn will do
downriver.”

“
Or what forces of his own
he’ll marshal,” added Claradon.

“
Remember, Lomion isn’t
just this city and our lands to the north,” said Ob. “There are
plenty of lands to the south too: Dor Malvegil, Roosa, Beringford,
Dravilt, Dor Linden, Dover, and more. Stinking Korrgonn could do no
end of mischief at any of those places. We can’t sit back and let
that happen.”

“
We will send ravens to
the Lords Malvegil and Mirtise warning them of the threat,” said
the Duke.

“
The
Rose
was provisioned for a long journey,”
said Grim. “Three days ago it appeared in the harbor, though no one
saw it approach. Rascelon loaded it with all manner of provisions
until the moment it sailed. They hauled aboard enough water and
foodstuffs to sail all the way to Tragoss Mor, probably farther,
without resupplying.

“
So where could they be
headed?” asked Claradon.

“
Maybe they’re going to
Theta’s lands, way out wherever it is,” said Ob. “Perhaps old
Korrgonn heard about your fancy wine cellar and wants to sample a
vintage or two.”

“
Enough,” said Theta. “I intend to follow that ship until I
catch it, whether that be in ten leagues or at the very ends of the
world. There will be no turning around, no letting him go. I will
catch Korrgonn and kill him, and if it’s possible, rescue
Claradon’s brother. Anyone that objects can stay here and hide
under their beds. The rest of us will see this done.” He turned
toward the Duke. “You say that
The White
Rose
is the fastest ship in Lomion; which
one is the next fastest?”

Harringgold considered for
a moment. “Any one of several Lomerian Cruisers—military ships. But
I can’t get you one of those—each is commanded by a Myrdonian
Knight Captain and they all report to Marshal Balfor and through
him to the Chancellor. The next best choice would be
The Black Dragon
. She’s
a smaller ship but she might be
The
Rose
’s match in speed.”

“
My
Lord,
The Black Dragon
is no more, at least in name,” said Grim. “Slaayde renamed
her
The Black Falcon
not long ago. Third or fourth time he has changed the ship’s
name and standard in the last few years, if I remember
straight.”

“
Ah,
yes, he is known for that.” Harringgold turned back toward Theta.
“
The Black Falcon
is a merchant ship captained by one Dylan
Slaayde.”

“
The problem is, Slaayde
is set to sail to Minoc with a load of marble, or so I hear,” said
Grim. “To make any good speed you would have to unload it before
you set sail. That will take a day, maybe two, and we would
probably have to buy the cargo off him to boot.”

“
Are there other options?”
asked Theta.

“
None that I know of
that’s near as fast and what could be ready much sooner,” said
Grim.

“
Then
The Black Falcon
it is,” said Theta, staring down the
Duke.

The Duke stared back for a
goodly time before responding. “Very well, I will arrange this with
Captain Slaayde. I’ll also assign some of my guardsmen to your
command—as I fear you will need them before your journey is
done.”

“
Can Slaayde be trusted,
my lord?” said Claradon.

“
To a point,” said
Harringgold. “He’s a scoundrel and a menace to free trade; but he’s
no friend to the League.”

***

“
What am I supposed to
do?” said Ector. He, Claradon and Ob huddled together in the corner
of Harringgold’s den. “Father is gone. Sir Gabriel is dead. Brother
Donnelin, Par Talbon, Stern, Marzdan, Balfin, Mithras, all dead,
every one. Malcolm is badly hurt, now Jude is taken, and you,
Artol, and Tanch are all going who knows where. What am I supposed
to do?”

Claradon looked stricken. He reached out and
put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“
What would your father
tell you to do, boy?” said Ob.

Ector shook his head
slightly and sunk back into the leather chair. “He would tell me to
do my duty.”

“
Which is
what?”

“
To uphold the family name
and the family honor. To hold the Dor and protect it and our people
against all enemies. To obey the crown.”