“Captain, tell me that this is not so,” Horace said as he rocked back and forth on the bench. “We are soldiers. We use sabotage and espionage. We spy and gather information. Sure, we are expendable, but traversing the Spine to search for a fenix… That makes no sense. It’s a suicide mission.”
Everyone started to grumble and murmur. Prospero beat his head on the table. Apollo yawned. Sticks shook her head and chewed on her lip.
“Captain, we only have thirteen seasoned men left. Thirteen! Those expeditions had hundreds,” Cudgel said. He wiped away the new sweat beading on his forehead with his forearm. “You’ve commandeered many more people, right?”
All eyes fell on Abraham.
“No,” he said.
They let out a unified “Aaaaah!” and began shaking their heads and mumbling to themselves.
“It was either that or die. That would have been true for most of us,” he said. “Henchmen, we are going after the fenix egg. That’s an order.”
“With only thirteen men?” Vern said. “The last mission we started with sixty. And now it’s just us and a bunch of green tunics.”
“Red Tunics,” Dominga said.
“You know what I mean,” Vern said.
“You bear the mark, Vern,” Sticks said. “We all do. If he had to sail to the edge of the sea, we are bound to do it. No one forced any of us to take the King’s Brand. It was voluntary.”
“Yes, my brothers and I had such a great choice.” Cudgel’s nostrils flared. “Throw our lives away or rot in prison.”
“At least you get fresh air,” Bearclaw added.
“Not to mention that the king can release us from our pledge,” Dominga said. “Can’t he?”
“King Hector can do whatever he wants. It’s just never been done before,” Horace said. “Most of us die first.”
“But you get a proper burial and your record wiped clean for fighting for the king,” Sticks said.
“A fat lot of good that does our dead brothers,” Cudgel said. He threw an arm over Tark. “We are the last ones. We’ll never see my mother and father again.”
Horace turned toward Cudgel and said, “Well, you shouldn’t have been stealing from the king’s livestock.”
“We were starving. What else were we going to do? We were only children,” the round-faced black man replied.
“Beg,” Horace answered.
“Griping about the past isn’t going to do us any good,” Abraham said.
The hireling women slipped in from the galley, waddled over, refilled everyone’s coffee, and disappeared back into the galley.
“Those campaigns were too big. A baker’s dozen should work out better. Maybe we wouldn’t have lost so many if we hadn’t taken too many to begin with.”
“It was your idea,” Vern said with a stupefied look. “And what’s a baker’s dozen?”
“Thirteen. It means thirteen.” He flipped his hand. “Listen, we are going to load up, take one small wagon, and head for the hills. There is no other choice that we have. Any questions?”
Cudgel lifted his hand. “We never go on a mission without at least one mystic. Who is going to care for our wounds and cast fire against our enemies?”
“You can let the dogs lick your wounds,” Vern said.
“At least they’d like mine. They’d never touch yours,” Cudgel fired back.
Vern rolled his swollen eyes.
“I can handle the wounds, mostly,” Iris said.
Cudgel snorted.
“Who did we use before?” Abraham asked.
Sticks sat straight up.
Cudgel’s eyes turned as white as the moon as he slammed both hands on the table. “Elgan did.” He slapped his hands on the table again. He stepped over the bench as Tark did too. He stuck a finger at Abraham. “You might be the Captain, but there is something very wrong with you. I don’t care if you slay me.” The brothers stormed across the room, punched the double doors open, and exited with the door slamming behind them.
Abraham felt bad but remained poised. He wasn’t going to remember everything. Mistakes would be made. He’d have to live or die with them. But this was what he had to do if he needed to find a way home. “Any other questions?”
No one said a word.
“Let’s get ready then. Come on, Sticks.”
52
On separate horses, Abraham and Sticks rode to Burgess. The king’s city was surrounded by miles of sprawling countryside and white cottages with light-blue roofs. Several stone-paved roads led into the city, miles away. On the way in, they passed plenty of travelers coming and going on foot, on horseback, or on wagons. The city itself was far vaster than his view from the House of Steel’s high walls. Hundreds of buildings, made with stone and mortar, stood over fifty feet tall. He also saw great cathedrals with massive archway entrances and stadiums for entertainment and contests. The storefronts showed off colorful wreaths and decorations on their doors. Goods were enticingly displayed in the windows. Hard boots walked over the wooden porches. Old men and women were seated on benches outside. The city was laid out like a small fantasy version of Pittsburgh, with a constant sea breeze that stirred free-flowing hair.
Most of the people wore robes of different fashions and fine linens. Many men wore long shirts and trousers. Feet were shod with either boots or sandals. Barefoot children raced through the streets. Everything appeared orderly, well laid out, and splendid, except for the bloodstained gallows set up at the entrance to every quadrant.
One block ahead, crows and pigeons fought on the gallows deck, where criminals, treasonous men and women, were hanged. Two soldiers wearing steel cap helms and leather armor and carrying spears and swords on their hips guarded the gallows. The gallows had two nooses strung up and one guillotine stained black from dried blood. The nooses swung in the wind. The gruesome structure’s posts and beams creaked against the ocean breeze.
Two men still hung in the nooses. They wore no hoods, tongues hanging from their mouths. Abraham and Sticks rode by, watching crows pick at the flesh. The rank-smelling sourness of rotting flesh filtered through the air. The soldiers were working their way up the steps. They lowered the dead bodies, loosened the nooses, and tossed them over the side into a wagon.
“That’s probably going to be me if I don’t bring that egg back,” Abraham said.
He hadn’t spoken since they’d left. Neither had Sticks.
Crinkling her nose, she asked, “Why are we here?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to get away from the others. I thought that coming here might refresh my memories.”
“Is it?”
“Well, I know where I’m going, at least.” He looked back at the gallows they’d just passed. “The people don’t seem very fazed by the killings.”
“Their hearts only harden against the king—not all, just most,” she said.
A pair of long-faced women wearing black robes walked right out in front of their horses. The one on the right held up two fingers, wiggled them, and asked, “Death to the king, or life to the king?”
“Death to you if you don’t get your wrinkled ass out of my way.” Sticks reared up her horse.
The women dashed across the street and vanished into a small cathedral entrance.
“That was spooky,” he said.
“They are probably members of the Sect. They control everything in Burgess but without saying so.”
“Yes, so they work for Leodor?”
“Or Leodor works for them. No one knows. None of them ever admit to anything though they claim to support the king. I don’t think a one of them would ever take the King’s Brand, though.”
They traveled from one side of Burgess to the other, where the road led out toward the sea. Levees, docks, wharfs, and boats of all kinds could be seen all the way up the shoreline. Some men fished from piers, while others hauled nets out of small boats. Abraham led them down to the beach, away from the crowds. The horses made their way down onto the wet sand. Surges of foam
ing green waves crashed over their hooves.
“What’s on your mind?” Sticks asked.
“I needed to clear my head. Beaches are pretty popular for doing that where I come from.” He breathed deeply through his nostrils and exhaled. “I think that’s the first real deep breath I’ve had since I’ve been here. I did have a good sleep, though.”
“I bet you did.”
“Oh, the triplets. Well, nothing happened in there—this time, anyway.” He laughed and made a sheepish smile. “Something must really be wrong with me to miss out on that kind of opportunity when this world is not real.”
“You didn’t tussle with them?”
“Did you hear any tusslings?”
“No. I wasn’t listening, but usually, we can hear it. Hmm.”
Staring out at the distant fishing boats, he said, “Okay, before I lead us into the jaws of death, I need to make sure I understand my men and women. I’m pretty hazy on all of our history.”
“Me and Dominga worked our way up. Dominga’s new and picked by, well, the other you. I came on because, well, I was on the run and had no place to go. You found me during recruiting Red Tunics. That was years ago. Horace—”
“No, don’t tell me anymore. Horace, Bearclaw, and Vern were all knights like me.” His eyes widened. “Ah crap, Prospero and Apollo are Guardians too, aren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“Oh man, when I lost my head, well, not me, but Ruger, they followed. They were to be punished the same as me. They weren’t the only ones. So many others died.” He leaned forward and patted his black horse’s neck. “I recruited Cudgel and his brothers out of prison. They were young, barely men. Tark, Levi, and…” He squinted. “William were their names.”
She nodded.
“And half of them died. Man, that hurts me. Do you know how many have died under my leadership?”
“One hundred and seventy-five Henchmen and retainers. Most of them retainers.”
“You know this?”
“You used to keep a ledger. Now I keep it since you stopped doing it.”
“And I’ve been doing this, how long, seven or eight years?”
“That’s about right. I came on five years ago. I’ve been a Henchman for over three.”
He shook his head. “Why would anyone volunteer to do this?”
She reached into her saddlebag, fished out two apples, and fed one to her horse. “It’s a better life than farming or living in a prison. It’s a chance for some nobody to serve the cause of the king. Not everyone can be one of the king’s soldiers. Not everyone can find a place to work, either. It’s a chance for status with promise of adventure, even treasure.”
“I guess we are all a bunch of desperados in one way or another, I suppose.” He opened his hands and caught the apple she tossed him. “It’s no wonder we can’t win if we are no more than a bunch of thieves and criminals.”
“In the past, you brought the best out of all of us. We would fight hard for you, trust you before the change,” she said. “They liked the old you. Besides, you used to say that everyone is a criminal in one way or another. Some get caught, and some don’t.”
He smiled. “I said that?”
“Years ago.”
53
On the shoreline, below the cliffs that rose up to the House of Steel, Abraham gathered the Henchmen. They were a formidable bunch, wearing black tunics over the chain-mail armor. All of them rode on horseback. The retainers, Twila and two young men, drove a two-team horse and wagon loaded with supplies. They also had three pack mules and five extra horses. The group looked as though they were ready for anything.
The King’s Guardians, led by Lewis, approached from the south. Viceroy Leodor rode at his side. A dozen knights in full plate armor rode behind them. The sun shone on their lion-faced helmets. The lion’s mane plumes billowed against the ocean breeze.
Abraham leaned over his saddle horn. Horace and Sticks were on either side of him. “You might want to make yourself scarce. You know how cavalier Lewis is.”
“Aye, Captain,” Horace said.
Lewis brought the Guardians to a halt with a raised fist. He and Leodor separated from the group and trotted up to Abraham. With the sun shining in his face, Lewis said, “It’s a beautiful day to begin a dreadful expedition. What a shame I can’t be joining you.”
“Seeing how I’m trying to save the queen, you might want to give me your blessing,” Abraham said.
Lewis reached over and pushed Leodor’s shoulder. “That’s what the viceroy is for. Go ahead, Leodor. Give him the fool’s blessing.”
Leodor frowned. From underneath his beige robes, he removed a scroll. “Ruger or, well, what do you want to be called?”
“Let’s keep it simple and stick with Ruger,” Abraham said.
“Yes, yes.” Leodor licked his lips and handed Ruger a scroll. “That is the same information that I gave to the other expeditions. There is a history about the fenix and the names of peoples that have claimed to have seen it. Many people still worship the fenix but will guard its secret well. I cannot say if there is any truth to what is on that scroll or not. But there is a grain of truth in every lie and legend. Perhaps the elders will be with you. We will pray long life for the queen.”
“Long live the queen,” Ruger said. He tucked the scroll in his saddle and looked at Lewis. “Is there anything else? I’m ready to partake in this dreadful journey.”
Lewis gazed behind him. “You don’t boast very many. Is that because you led them all to their deaths?”
“No,” Ruger said casually. “Some of them deserted.”
Lewis laughed. “Those must have been the smart ones.”
“So, what load of dragon dung did you put on that scroll?” Lewis asked Leodor. Both men remained on their horses, watching Ruger lead his company up the shore. “I hope you at least gave them a nibble.”
“I gave them enough information to keep them busy,” the clammy Leodor said. “And I’m certain that the result will be the same as the other two campaigns. Failure.”
“It’s a shame that you can’t find a cure for Queen Clarann. She is a good woman. I like her.”
“Sadly, some things cannot be cured. I fear that there is little hope for your stepmother. And I like her too.” Leodor shifted in his saddle. “I really hate riding these things. They are so uncomfortable.” He eyed the Henchmen. “I’m glad I’m not them. I’m not sure how they do it, how any of you do it. All of that armor must be very uncomfortable.”
“You wouldn’t say that if someone came at you with a sword. My chain and plate has saved me countless times.” Lewis leaned over his saddle horn, his eyes intent on the campaign. “Is there any truth to the fenix and the powers of the yolk in the egg?”
“It is written. But proven… That’s another thing.”
“Tell me more about it.”
“They histories say that the fenix is the spawn of the Elders, a truly magnificent and powerful creature. The images show part dragon and part monster, a great head and slavering jaws that can consume entire people. If one were to find it, we would not know. They would not survive the encounter. I think this will be Ruger’s final journey.”
“I don’t know,” Lewis said. “Sometimes I think the Elder of Luck is by his side. Even with eyes and ears on the inside, he keeps coming back. His last personality, well, that was manageable, but this one, this Abraham that speaks in his body now…” He shook his head. “He has an edge in his voice.”
“I only heard desperation, my prince. He’s still a far cry from the true Ruger that we know.” Leodor jumped in his saddle as a seabird soared right over his head. “Bloody things. Why do they pester me so?” He composed himself, but his eyes searched the skies. “Besides, now that Ruger has lost his station and you have filled it, it becomes easier to fulfill the Underlord’s demands. It’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
Lewis rubbed his hands together. “Yes. We should meet with the Underlord, shouldn’t we?”<
br />
“Agreed. I will arrange it.” Leodor cast a backward glance. “You’ll have to separate yourself from the Guardians for a time.”
“I know. That won’t be a problem.” The Henchmen faded into the shoreline. “I’ll be curious what the Underlord has to say about this recent change in Ruger. The entire idea of different personalities taking over men’s bodies is unsettling. Could such a thing happen to me?”
“I don’t even think that the Underlord knows. But I sense change in the air. These possessed people are a sign of it.” Leodor grabbed his reins in his soft hands. “And the portals that Ruger mentioned. That’s another part in the puzzle. What unholy terror will come out of them next?”
“Humph.” Lewis turned his horse around. “Holy or unholy, as long as it doesn’t come after me, I don’t care.”
54
Three days of riding passed before the Henchmen arrived at what the locals called Titanuus’s Crotch. They rode along the shoreline where they could and took the roads that snaked around the seashore cities of Southern Tiotan. At the moment, Southern Tiotan and Kingsland did not war with one another, but tensions were high. The Henchmen kept moving, camping outside the small towns that ran along the coast. Now they stood on the shores of Titanuus’s Crotch, which was little more than a barren wasteland against the sea.
Abraham swayed side to side in his saddle. For the last several miles of riding, he’d kept his eyes fixed on the great mountain range called Titanuus’s Spine. The mountains were leagues wide, and gargantuan hilltops rose beyond the height of the clouds.
Oh my.
This wasn’t the first time he’d seen mountains like this. In West Virginia, hills were everywhere, but they weren’t even above sea level. Titanuus’s Spine was more like the Colorado Rockies, perhaps much bigger and longer. It reminded him of something else. When he was a teenager, his father had been stationed in Hawaii, and Abraham took a trip to Maui. He and his friends took a mountain-biking trip up to the top of a massive volcano called Haleakala. The mountain rose over seven thousand feet in height, where a great crater waited in the middle. They rode their bikes down mountains and back through the clouds that waited four thousand feet below. They didn’t stop screaming down the road until it bottomed out at sea level. Acres of pineapple fields greeted them on the journey home.
The King's Henchmen: The Henchmen Chronicles - Book 1 Page 19