The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal)

by Beam, Brian

  Between Briscott’s talent for hunting and a couple of abandoned farmsteads, we kept ourselves fed and our waterskins full. For a while, our passage was mercifully spared any hardship outside of being taken out of our way to avoid war-torn cities and open-field skirmishes. However, as the old adage goes, all good things must come to an end.

  Chapter 39

  Out from the Cold and into the Flames

  For nearly two weeks, we traveled along the tremulous fringes of the war. Whenever the pull of Saiyre’s ring drew us towards a besieged town or a fielded battle, we were forced leagues out of our way to avoid being thrust into the bloody throes of combat. These diversions kept us from arriving in Gualain as timely as I would’ve preferred.

  Actually crossing into Gualain proved to be more difficult than expected. During one of Ithan’s nighttime watches, he discovered Gualainian scouts a couple of leagues outside of the kingdom. Max set out to inspect the situation.

  Max found that scouting groups were stationed at fairly equal intervals well outside Gualain’s borders. Further in, full regiments of soldiers were posted at all major entry points into the kingdom. Beyond those were three large military divisions, at least one within marching distance of each border-guarding regiment. Basically, getting into Gualain without being noticed was going to take some work.

  We spent days observing the patterns of the patrolling scouts, watching for potential gaps in their surveillance. Kind of like finding a chink in their armor. Sounds easy, right? Trust me; I’m sparing a lot of boring specifics about the hours upon hours upon even more hours spent monitoring the scouts and regiments from a safe distance. I could recount all kinds of details about cramps, sleeping in the freezing cold without a fire, and being hydrated solely from eating snow, but I’ll just say that getting into Gualain was pure misery. Besides, Ithan probably wouldn’t like me writing about how Fleet was at one point considered a potential dinner.

  Given what we’d seen of the war, things could’ve been much worse.

  Saiyre’s ring continued to pull us southeast in the direction of Bherin, Gualain’s capital. Only days into Gualain, we came to the war-ravaged town of Terafall.

  ****

  “Poor bastards,” Briscott muttered, drawing his cloak tight against the swirling snowflakes.

  Briscott’s sentiment echoed silently in my heart as we watched wisps of black smoke blend into the gray morning sky. The snowcapped houses of Terafall were barely discernible against the white landscape and the light snowfall. The echoes of battle drifted across the plain, assaulting us with hints of dark tidings that were mercifully hidden from our eyes.

  “I made several deliveries to that town,” Briscott continued. “Good people in Terafall. Blighting good people.” He averted his gaze from the black shapes dotting the land outside the town. Too many of them were not moving.

  “I have never been there,” Ithan chimed in, distractedly. Whenever an active battle was near, he’d slip into a sort of trance, as if he were seeing his hometown in the midst of the same strife.

  “And you probably never will,” Max announced, nearly startling me out of my saddle. He scurried up my leg and onto the pommel before me, shaking snow from his fur with a shudder. “No wonder squirrels hole up for the winter. This fur is useless.”

  From atop Ithan’s shoulder, Fleet beat her wings and emitted a shrill squawk. We’d been able to keep the featherswift owl well fed, but being outdoors for so long seemed to have rekindled her hunting instincts. Keeping Fleet from breaking free of her tether and turning Max into a raptor snack had become a daily struggle.

  “I will not hesitate to put that bird down, you know,” Max warned, casting a pointed glare at Ithan. Ithan sat up, affronted, and put a protective hand on the restless owl.

  “What did you see out there, Max?” I asked while he brushed snow from his face with his front paws.

  “I could not make out much in this weather,” Max admitted. “The fighting is as fierce as anything we have seen thus far, though. I believe that the Wizard Guard is present; there’s definitely some magic warfare involved.”

  As if to validate Max’s words, a column of fire shot into the air from within Terafall. As far away as we were, it still roared like a waterfall smashing against rocks. We all fell into a startled silence as the sound rolled across the plain.

  Max stood on his hind legs and crossed his scrawny arms. “I am surprised that an opposing force was able to breach Gualain’s borders. I am even more surprised that they are battling in that town. If it were a bigger city I would understand—there would be needed resources there and a larger populace to protect. But this battle makes no sense unless Terafall just happens to be the unfortunate location where the two sides met.”

  Dropping back to all fours, Max looked up to me. “We need to move on. We will have to circle wider than usual. Gualainian scouts are posted around the town’s perimeter, likely monitoring for signs of enemy reinforcements. If this snow were to let up, we’d stand out like, well, idiots in a snowfield if we got too close.”

  “What a clever analogy,” I chided with a deliberate grin.

  “Oh, shut it, lunkhead. This Arcticia-blooded cold has just slowed my thinking,” Max replied with a huff and an annoyed glower. Arcticia is the goddess of winter and one that I happened to dislike greatly, even if I didn’t believe in her.

  Briscott snapped from his brooding state, chortling. “So much like young lovebirds, you two,” he laughed.

  Max drew himself up and put his paws on his hips. I’m sure he was going for imposing, but he just looked ridiculous. “I do not appreciate being compared to that thing,” Max nodded his head toward Fleet, “or so closely associated to this thing,” he finished haughtily, jerking his head in my direction. “So, Scruffy, I would watch that tongue before I turn you into a lizard.”

  Briscott raised a self-conscious hand to his unkempt beard, though amusement glittered in his eyes.

  “You can do that?” Ithan gasped, his eyes widening. “I mean, there are records indicating that transmutation was possible thousands of years ago, but the secrets to such magic have been lost over time. Well, here in Amirand, at least.”

  Max went stone-still with a disbelieving countenance. “I cannot even bring myself to grace you with an answer to that.” Max went on to mutter something under his breath.

  Ithan’s amber eyes narrowed harshly. “Yes, I guess the concept is absurd—almost as absurd as transferring a soul to another body.” Apparently, we’d not only broken Ithan out of his introverted shell, but had also given him fangs.

  Max crossed his arms again, twitching his nose in derision. I snorted while trying to hold back my laughter at his pose, receiving a heated glare in return.

  We’d frequently fallen into such inane bickering over the past few days. In addition to our near-constant proximity to one another over an extended period of time, we each had a lot weighing on our minds, making us all a bit overstrung. I think Max was mostly on edge because he hadn’t had a decent meal in days.

  Max took a frustrated breath, the bands holding the glowing Reservoir on his back stretching against his chest. “Except that one of those two things is actually possible,” he proclaimed tetchily. “The other is childish fancy. Korin, why did you even tell him about the soul transfer in the first place?”

  Both Ithan and I had just started to throw arguments back at Max when Briscott peremptorily cleared his throat. Once our attention was on him, Briscott lifted his arm towards Terafall. “I think we have more pressing concerns than childish squabbling.”

  Max opened his mouth, but no words came out. Ithan’s pale cheeks flushed. I hunched down as if to make myself invisible. We were like a group of scolded children.

  Briscott burst into raucous laughter. The tension snapped like a bowstring, and we all let loose with him, laughing at ourselves. Even Max let out a chuckle.

  We all seemed to catch ourselves at the same time, dropping into abrupt silence as if our laughte
r would draw notice. Despite our distance, we didn’t need to be taking any risks. The air suddenly felt colder, sending a shiver through my body.

  I exhaled, my breath a vaporish cloud. “Briscott’s right; we’ve got to get moving. The sooner we find Sal’, the sooner we can try to do something about this war.” My voice caught when I mentioned Sal’, but no one seemed to notice. I gave Max a shaky grin. “And maybe we can even find Max a good meal.”

  “And with that, the most sense that I have heard in days has been spoken,” Max announced.

  My gaze turned to Ithan. “Ithan, do you have any recommendations on the best way around Terafall based on the ring’s pull?”

  Ithan reached into his coat and pulled out Saiyre’s ring. He shook his head. “No, it is pulling directly towards Terafall. The town is surrounded by flatland, so either way is as good as the other.”

  “And Bherin is a straight-shot in the same direction,” Briscott added, his eyes focused on Terafall. The snowfall was starting to pick up, the town becoming a gray silhouette, a specter veiled in white. “It really doesn’t blighting matter.”

  “Do not forget the sentries,” Max cautioned. “We should err on the side of caution and pass along the town’s eastern flank. The sentries will be more heavily placed on the northern and western sides facing Gualain’s borders.” With a shiver, Max once again shook the snow from his fur.

  “Then it’s settled,” I announced through chattering teeth. “Ready?” With a round of resolute nods, we started out into the winter storm.

  I wondered if, despite the others’ seeming surety, they felt as not ready as I did. I guess bravery is sometimes a matter of telling your brain to shut up and your feet to move . . . or in this case, kicking your horse forward instead of wheeling it around in the opposite direction and retreating, preferably to some place warmer. Being ready is not always an option.

  That reminds me of something Max once told me when I was a child of no more than eleven years of age, afraid to saddle a horse that had knocked me to my ass with a kick the day before. Max had looked to me and said, “Bravery is one part heart, one part resolve, and fifty parts stupidity.” His words proved true when I finally worked up the courage only to get knocked right back onto the stable floor, right in a big pile of . . .

  Anyway, those words rang even truer as we forced ourselves forward.

  We kept our distance as we pressed forth in a wide arc around Terafall. The snowfall had become heavy enough to fill in our tracks only moments after our horses’ hooves lifted from the ground. We hadn’t been traveling long before Ithan suddenly called out, “Hold, everyone.”

  Reining Telis to a halt, I twisted in my saddle to look back at Ithan through the snowstorm. His hand was shoved into the inner pocket of his coat, where he kept Saiyre’s ring. His attention was set towards Terafall, the embattled town hidden behind a curtain of white.

  Ithan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “The ring is still pulling towards Terafall,” he declared softly.

  My extremities went numb, and not from the cold. “No,” was the only word that I could force from my mouth, its gravity accentuated with the misty puff that formed before my lips.

  “Korin, I know you worry for Salmaea’s safety, but this is a good thing,” Max argued. “She may have information that will help us determine where to go from here. Better to uncover that information now instead of potentially wasting our time. We do not have the luxury of such waste.”

  “It’s better to find her now,” Briscott added. “Who knows how bad things are closer to the capital.”

  Although it was hard to accept that Sal’ being in the middle of a battle could be a good thing, I knew they were right. Instead of fretting, I needed to concentrate on getting her out of Terafall safely. Nothing else mattered—not even the prophecy. I loved Sal’, no matter how she felt in return, and I’d do anything I could to protect her.

  I drew myself up in Telis’s saddle, fighting the urge to set him towards Terafall at a gallop that would challenge the pulse throbbing against my temples. “Then we head into Terafall and finally enter this fight.”

  Briscott and Ithan looked as if they were about to agree, but Max spoke up first. “No, you three will stay here while I go in undetected and pull Salmaea and what is left of her Wizard Guard squadron out. We need to salvage what resources we can and take this fight to where it really belongs: against the one controlling the rocks. If we join this battle, we may take out a few of the enemy, but we could possibly lose our lives in the process. If we take down the one responsible for the rocks, however, we take out hundreds or thousands of them, eliminate one of Gualain’s major advantages, possibly save Amirand, and get you the answers you are searching for, Korin. Which would you prefer?”

  Max’s likening of human lives as resources turned my stomach, but again, he was right. I was really getting sick of that. “Okay, Max, but if you can’t get to Sal’, you have to promise to return so we can formulate a new plan,” I compromised.

  Max’s eyes lit with amusement. “If I cannot get to Salmaea, not only will I return immediately, I will relieve you of your salmon debt.” Max let out a rueful sigh. “Now I have made myself hungry. I blame your lack of faith in me, lunkhead. Ithan, I will need the ring.”

  Ithan obliged, bringing Windmane close enough to hand Saiyre’s ring to Max. Max grasped the ring in his tiny paws and slid it up one arm to fit snugly on his shoulder. “I will be back in two shakes of a grazil’s tail. Or a couple of hours; whichever comes second.” With that, he leapt to the ground, nearly disappearing in the accumulated snow.

  “Max, be careful,” I advised, receiving a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head in response before he started off towards Terafall. I tried to take his lack of a proper farewell as a guarantee that he’d come back safely, but I was unable to convince myself.

  “Well, here we are again, doing nothing.” Briscott brought his horse beside Telis and stared out at the line Max cut through the snow until it was hidden by a haze of white. “I’m getting blighting antsy to do something about those blighted undead abominations.” Briscott spat to the side.

  “You’ll get your chance,” I promised. “We all will after we get Sal’ out of there.”

  “I told you that it is no secret that Salmaea does not love Saiyre,” Ithan said, his voice dangerously close to mumbling. It was probably from cold-numbed lips over regression. “Maybe once she is back with you, everything will turn out better than you believe.”

  I turned to the mop-haired wizard. Apparently something in my face, posture, or tone had revealed my worry over reuniting with Sal’. “Am I that obvious?” I chuckled wryly. “Most likely, it won’t. As long as she’s okay, I think I can accept that.”

  “You can’t not let her know how you blighting feel,” Briscott chipped in. “The worst she can do is turn you away. Not saying anything to her amounts to the same thing. Besides,” Briscott gestured towards the town, “if her response is less than favorable, you’ve got other things to occupy your attention.”

  Apparently this had turned into a team-up-on-Korin day.

  I let out a deep, misting breath. “True, Briscott. But, honestly, I think I should just forget about those feelings. Neither Sal’ nor I need to be distracted by something so unimportant during a time like this.”

  Briscott’s countenance hardened. “Unimportant? Korin, take it from a man who has lost everything that he loved: love is never to be considered unimportant. I would give anything to have them back, Korin. Anything. I take solace in the fact that they at least died knowing I loved them. What we’re doing is near blighted suicide. Don’t you dare go into this without telling Sal’ how you feel.”

  “O-Okay,” I stammered, taken aback at Briscott’s sudden change in tone. Even Ithan wore a look of disbelief. After Briscott’s words, his raw expression of loss, how could I not do as he wished?

  “Promise me,” Briscott ordered gruffly.

  I locked my eyes on his. “I promise,”
I vowed. Once the words left my lips, I felt a sudden sinking sensation in my chest. I found myself selfishly yearning for the simplicity of my past ephemeral flings at wayside inns and taverns—not the flings themselves, of course, just the lack of complexity in emotions. Having Max berate me for my trysting ways seemed a desirable alternative to the stabbing anxiety I now felt. Stupid love.

  “That’s what I thought,” Briscott responded with a twinkle in his green eyes, his mouth curving deviously.

  I’d just been taken in, utterly gullible in my empathetic nature.

  “That’s just wrong,” I accused, my face too numb to properly convey my annoyance.

  Briscott shot me a triumphant grin. “Be that as it may, you promised. I assure you, you’ll thank me in the end. My family would’ve approved of using their memory if they knew it meant bringing some good into this blighted world.” His grin faded a bit at that, and he turned his gaze away, brushing the snow from his beard with his hand. I knew it was just a means of hiding the hurt in his expression.

  My annoyance abated. “Well, I can’t promise that any good will come from it, but if it does, I’ll let you off the hook for those drinks you owe me.”

  Briscott’s smile returned. “Even if you do, I’ll still owe both you and Sal’ drinks to celebrate the occasion. We’ll celebrate until we can’t remember what we’re celebrating for. Ithan, I expect you’ll be joining us.”

  “Well, I’ve never actually drank,” Ithan admitted shyly.

  “Then it will cost me less to get you drunk,” Briscott laughed, reaching over and slapping my back with a knowing expression.