by Heath Pfaff
"Let him go." I said finally.
The guards did not give any outward sign of surprise, but Silent's face wore shock prominently.
"Are you going to kill me yourself, then?" He asked.
I stepped into the speed, moving as fast as my injured body would permit. I shot forward, grabbed the hilt of my borrowed sword, and pulled it from his shoulder, and then let the world resume its normal pace around me.
Silent gasped in pain, staggered forward a little, but did not fall. He looked at me as though I were the last thing he might see. There was fear in his eyes, and in his posture, but he did not speak out. It wasn't pride or strength that stilled his tongue. He held only fear. It was hate that kept him from telling me what I wanted to know. Fear and hate. The Silent I had known was truly dead.
"You can go. Follow Swift. Leave this city, and don't come back. From here out, you will be on a kill-on-sight order within the capital. I shall try to find out who is sending assassins after you, and see that it stops. I believe I know who to talk to about that." It did not take a great leap of logic to guess that Ethaniel had acted to stifle a possible traitor. I would need to have words with him on the matter. I did not savor the prospect.
"I'll probably try to kill you again." Silent muttered quietly.
"Next time we meet, I'm going to end your life, Silent." I told him. "Not because you are a threat to me, but because you are a threat to those around me. This time I give you your life because you were once my only friend, but I'll never show you such a kindness again." The words were cold, and I delivered them with an impassiveness I did not feel. Inside I was a storm of emotional distress, somewhere between grief at the final loss of a once trusted companion, and rage at that past companions attempted abduction of Malice. Had I not been there. . . It didn't help to dwell upon it.
"Leave." I snapped, and Silent jumped and ran for the window, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
After he was out of the window, I walked to it and watched him descend to the ground. Once he reached the ground, I unlatched his roped from the cross beam it had been lassoed to, and drew it up, tossing it onto the floor. Malice had stopped crying, and was now on the bed, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She was watching me with concern and confusion on her face. I approached the two black cloaks who still stood, awaiting new orders.
I turned to the nearest. "Draw this sword from my back." I ordered him. He took a step forward, and then stopped. A look of mixed emotions crossed his face.
"I may hold no sword that draws the blood of my king." He intoned before stepping back, and looking at me blankly.
I sighed heavily. I was beginning to feel tired. My injury was wearing on me as my body tried to heal it, and was unable to do so. Malice was getting out of bed, walking toward me. She seemed hesitant, but there was determination on her face.
"I can do it." She said. I considered her for a moment. She had the strength, and the skill with arms to pull it out without causing any more damage, so long as she applied them.
"It needs to be pulled straight out, preferably as fast as possible." I told her.
She nodded and circled around behind me. I could see that she was nervous. In her mind, she had never killed an enemy, and never dealt with such a bloody situation.
"Just keep your hands steady, relax, and draw the blade straight back." I told her calmly, keeping my voice as soothing as possible. I felt the pressure on the blade as she took the hilt in her hand. She moved fast, drawing the blade out with such precision that I barely felt the motion. I sighed in relief as I heard the sword clatter to the ground. Malice was at my side in a moment.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" She asked concernedly.
"No, I feel much better now." I replied, and the words were true enough. My body was already working on repairing the terrible wound. I could feel the burning. "Let us find another room to rest in for the night."
"Guards," I called the black cloaks. They snapped to attention. "I want this room cleaned, the bodies disposed of. Inform Ethaniel of the events that transpired. Send a steward to prepare a new room for me to use in the future. For tonight, I will be sleeping in the guest room next door. Post a guard on the ground floor below the window from here on out. No more disturbances tonight."
The orders given, I took Malice and we left for the guest room. I was tired, and growing more so by the minute. Healing was hard work. We entered the small adjacent chamber and made our way to the bed. I was leaning heavily upon Malice by that point, though she seemed not to mind. I sat down on the edge of the feather mattress heavily, and was about to fall backwards when Malice stopped me.
"At least take off your bloody clothes." She said. "I know it's late but. . ." I could see how uncomfortable my bloodied, disheveled state made her.
I nodded. She was right. I shouldn't lay in bed covered in blood. I drew off my shirt, though I left my pants on. There was little to no blood on them, and I was not inclined to undress myself that much in Malice's presence. My wounds had closed, though they were still healing both outside and in. The line where the sword had broken my flesh was brilliant red, and stung fiercely. I used my shirt to clean the blood and mess from my fur. Malice had to help me. She brought in a pitcher of water from the draw-tap in the guest rooms bath facility, and helped me get rid of the last of the mess. Cleaned, I tossed my shirt on the floor and laid back in bed. Malice curled up at my side, drawing the blankets up over us both.
"I thought we were going to die." She said softly.
"We can't die yet. There is too much we need to get done." I answered, pulling her close to me with my one good arm before sleep swept me away. I did not dream.
I woke long before the dawn, but I did not leave the bed immediately. Instead, I waited for Malice to wake up as well. How she slept so long every night, I did not know. As a Knight, with the changes to my body, I needed only a few hours of sleep every week when not injured or fighting constantly, and I could survive on less. Injuries, or long stretches of pushing my limits, could change the needs of my body, but on any average day, sleep was not essential. Even if I forced myself to rest, I rarely slept an entire night. Malice should have been the same.
I lay on my back, in the exact position I'd fallen asleep, but Malice had rolled onto her side. I could feel her back against me, rising and falling with every breath she took. As she inhaled, her skin, even through her nightgown, felt like fire against my own. I resisted the desire to move closer to her. I waited in the silent darkness, my thoughts drifting to the troubles of the kingdom.
The sun eventually began to stream through the window of the room, brightening the interior of the guest chamber. I felt my bed companion stir, and then she jumped, as though she had been startled. Her arms went out wide, and she looked frightened until she turned over and her arm struck me in the chest. She spun the rest of the way in bed, and though she still looked sleepy, she wore a smile on her face.
"You stayed the entire night." She announced, her eyes sleepy, but a brilliant, almost jewel-like, green in the early morning light.
"I thought you could use the company." I answered
Her smile brightened. "Thank you." She said, and then her arms were around me, her chest pressed against me, and we were embracing. Desire welled up in me anew.
Finally we parted, and I found that it took a sizable amount of willpower to force myself to leave the bed. I needed to get my mind focused on the day's tasks. After the previous night's events, I knew that I would need to speak to Ethaniel. He would doubtless have a few things to say, and I had a few of my own to bring up. Most pointedly, I wanted to know why Ethaniel had sent assassins after Silent without verifying such an order with me. He had overstepped his bounds. How many other times had he done so?
I sent one of the black cloaks guarding the door for the steward, who I had bring a fresh set of clothes for Malice and me. We took turns in the bath room, changing, and preparing ourselves for the day. I dressed in the clothing popular amongst the Kn
ights of Ethan. My shirt was dark gray, almost black, with no sleeves to impede the movement of my Fell Beast arms, or arm, in my case. The pants were black, loose fitting, and ended just below the knee. These allowed for my legs to move freely at very high speeds, a necessity for a fighter such as myself. Besides, Fell Beast legs did not afford the fit of a standard pair of pants. Above it all I wore a cloak. When I was just a Knight of Ethan, I generally wore one of the shifting garments made from Lucidil fabric, but as the king, I was generally given a cloak of vivid blue to adorn myself in. I preferred the shifting cloak, but the castle staff preferred me to have on an outfit which would allow them to identify me quickly. I was told that this was so that I could be paid "proper respect" by all who saw me, but I felt that it was much more likely that my bright cloak was a warning to keep silent, and keep distance. As a Knight people feared to speak to me, as a king, people rarely wanted to speak to me, unless it was to air a grievance, or request a gift.
Laouna was adorned in a simple sun dress of dark green. It was longer than the summer outfit she'd gotten herself the day before, and was far more adept at hiding her more feminine points, but it was still a lovely outfit on her. The green, a color that matched her eyes exceedingly well, also served to highlight her vivid, red hair and pale skin. Dressed as a warrior, Malice had always been beautiful, but dangerous, a goddess of war. Adorned as any other girl might be, she somehow transcended the mundane, and still seemed every bit the goddess. Perhaps though, she seemed more a deity of innocence than ought else. I loved her no less for her loss, but I missed the master of blades who I'd fallen in love with originally.
Clothed and ready for the day, we set out for the kitchen. Malice ate twice a day, and though I generally ate less frequently, the wear of the night before had left me with a fierce hunger. My wound was still healing, though I knew on the outside it would appear to be completely repaired. Inside I could still feel the burn of muscle and flesh mending, accompanied by a sharp pain with every step I took, a pain that reminded me all was not yet well. Even amongst the Knights I was a miraculous healer, but my body could only do so much. I was lucky that no vital organs had been pierced. Those were always much more difficult to heal, since to heal properly, those pierced organs needed to be working. I had survived many blows that should have permanently injured, or killed me.
After eating, we made our way to my public study, where I would take care of the early business of the day, and work on my confounding pile of official documents. Of course, I knew that morning would not be one of my most productive before I even reached the study. I would have the business of the night before to handle. The door stood open when I reached the office.
My two guards stood outside the door, so I knew it was safe to enter.
"Good morning, Liet." I said to my old friend-turned black cloak, before crossing the threshold. I knew I would not have the opportunity to speak with him privately, but I would not go a morning without acknowledging him. Liet looked at me with violent eyes, but did not respond. I sighed and passed him.
Ethaniel was waiting for me inside the room. He wore a dour expression on his face. He was as bleak and foreboding as ever. He was, perhaps, less furious than he had been the last time I spoke with him. For that, at least, I was thankful. The old Knight made it difficult to tell his exact emotional state most of the time. Though it seemed "angry" would generally sum up his mood at any given moment.
"Ethaniel, good morning." I greeted him as I made my way around him, and to my desk.
"King Noble," Ethaniel clipped curtly, offering the barest of bows. It was not to show a lack of respect, I knew, but simply because Ethaniel did not care for custom.
"I guess you're here to discuss the events of last night." I said.
"Yes, but first we should discuss the events from last night of which you were not a part." Ethaniel answered cryptically. I raised an eyebrow.
Malice took a seat in one of the spare chairs of the study, and occupied herself with flipping through the books that lined the walls. She was not particularly interested in the affairs of state. It was just as well.
"So, what happened that I am unaware of? Were there other attacks in the city?" I asked, my concern growing as my mind churned through the possibilities.
"No, there were no other attacks. However, last night, about two hours before the assassination attempt in your room, Lord Lheec, his daughter, all of their retainers, and all of the Lheec's men in the city, including our financial contacts, and trading contacts, left via a long caravan." Ethaniel's eyes, all four of them, rested heavily upon me.
"Prior to leaving," He went on. "They withdrew all owed funds from the treasury. The move to leave was quick, and well orchestrated. No one is left, and not a sliver of Lheec's gold, not a bale of hay of his resources, remains in this city."
I learned forward. Lheec, it seemed, had made his final decision regarding his intentions for my reign as king. He would not withdraw all of his aid, and all of his money, unless he intended to launch an attack. He was gathering his resources to prevent losses.
"How did he learn of my rejection of his daughter so quickly?" I asked, angry at the way information seemed to flow through our walls with such ease.
"Lheec probably has more informants inside the castle than I do, Lowin." Ethaniel dropped the formalities.
"The men last night didn't come to assassinate me directly. They came to take Malice." I told Ethaniel.
The old Knight nodded. "That makes sense. Lheec could have used her to gain leverage on you, to get you to surrender without the need to engage in a lengthy war. It was a good idea."
I shot Ethaniel a cold stare. "Kidnapping and murder are never good ideas, Ethaniel. How long have you been playing the political game that you no longer know that?"
"Whether you like it or not, Lheec is going to try and take the throne. At least he put forth the effort to try and do it as bloodlessly as possible. Of course, I don't doubt he would have demanded your head in exchange for hers. It's much easier to place a new king on the throne, when the old one is dead." My advisor replied coldly.
"What do you suggest we do?" I offered the question in a sigh of defeat, slumping heavily back in my chair. I could tell that Ethaniel had something in mind. His tone of voice, the way he explained things, all added up to the fact that he was holding something back.
"I've received word that your ships are nearing completion." He answered, a grim smile coming to his face. It was not an all together pleasant expression, but I hardly noticed. I was filled with a sudden hope. At long last, after six years of waiting, my ships were nearly ready to sail. It was finally nearing the time when I could recover Kay. My daughter. I missed her so much that it hurt to think of her.
"You think we should run?" I asked, but the words were hollow. Knowing that my ships were ready, or nearly ready, I had no intention of staying in the capital. Kreo had been a prison more than a city. To be rid of the role of king, and finally on my way to recover Kay, was all that I really wanted.
"Would you have us start another war? The Knights and the Black Patch Brigade against the armies of man? What would we win through such a conflict? Even when we won, and I do not doubt that we would, smaller though our force would be, what would we have to show for that win? The kingdom of man would lay divided, and our resources would be depleted even further. There would be no recovery. If the Hungering came back. . ." Ethaniel's words trailed off. He didn't need to finish that thought.
"Then why back me? You could easily dispose of me, and clear the way for Lheec, giving him control of the remaining Knights and the black cloaks." I said the words almost at the same moment the thought occurred to me. Ethaniel owed me nothing. Indeed, I had done him no favors over the years. I had killed the king he served, and many of his Knights, when recovering Kyeia from the facilities in which she was being kept and studied.
"Lheec, or whoever he chooses to serve as his puppet, will never really be the king. I serve the man who I see fit, a
nd for all that you are a political fool, you are the king that I believe in. I will follow you, and the Knights will follow you as well. The black cloaks will follow you until you're dead, because that is the only manner of dethroning that their particular form of magic understands."
"Then it is settled. We must make preparations to leave." I declared, nearly forgetting about the other matter I wished to discuss with Ethaniel. I had told Silent, though, that I would try to correct what had been done. Ethaniel was on the verge of turning to leave and make preparations.
"Ethaniel, before you leave, did you order assassins sent after Silent?" I asked the old Knight.
He cocked his head, seeming to consider me before he answered. His gray eyes were full of threat, but his black eyes seemed to be searching my demeanor for something. What did he see, I wondered, when he looked at me?
"I did." He stated, not supplying any further explanation.
"I want that order canceled." I told him. Had I not been about to leave the kingdom, I might have asked him why he had acted without my permission, but it hardly seemed to matter any longer.