The Forever Knight

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The Forever Knight Page 8

by John Marco


  “Marilius?” said one of them.

  “Open the gates, Dorik. I need to see Fallon.”

  Dorik pointed at Cricket and me with his chin. “Who are they?”

  “Friends,” said Marilius. “For Fallon.”

  “Friends!” Dorik’s laughter boomed. “You mean like you, Marilius?”

  The others laughed too, jeering us. I got down off my horse, about to say something when Marilius stopped me. He glared at Dorik.

  “You think Fallon doesn’t want to see me?” he hissed. “He’ll find out I came back, because one of you apes won’t be able to keep it secret. Then he’ll find out you sent me away, Dorik. And then you know what he’ll do?”

  Dorik didn’t answer the question. Like the rest of them he was unshaven, unkempt, and at least a little dim-witted, but I could see his mind working behind his thick skull.

  “Open it,” he relented.

  The others pulled the chains from the bars and swung the gate open for us. As we stepped inside, Dorik bumped Marilius’s shoulder.

  “You should have stayed gone,” he whispered.

  I pretended not to hear as I helped Cricket down from her pony. Marilius thrust the reins of his horse toward Dorik.

  “Take care of the animals,” he sneered.

  By now others had gathered to watch us arrive. Some were mercenaries, some civilians from the town. Now I could see Fallon’s riches close-up. Silvery sidewalks led through the gardens and archways toward fountains and reflecting pools and stands of fruit trees where children played among the flowers. On the giant lawn, every emerald blade of glass stood at attention. Marilius walked lock-jawed, humiliated. He led us out of the powerful sun into a great, open hall with a view of the sea and a ceiling alive with frescos. Here, handmaidens in white tunics carried jugs and trays of food, their legs so creamy I could barely look away.

  Cricket caught me staring and grinned. “Nice place, huh?”

  “Beautiful,” I agreed.

  Every step took us deeper into Fallon’s paradise, until there were no more mercenaries, no one at all to challenge us, just the well-fed merchants and the doting, compliant servants. The smell of spices was everywhere, piping up from burning sconces on the walls and crystal bowls suspended from the ceiling. It got so thick I had to hold my nose.

  “Lavender,” said Marilius. “His favorite.”

  There was a bit of contempt in Marilius’s voice that I hadn’t heard before. When at last we came to a pair of golden doors, he stopped.

  “Is Fallon in there?” I asked.

  Marilius nodded.

  “How do you know?” asked Cricket.

  “Because he’s always in there at this time of day. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He opened a single golden door, just enough to slip inside. A sudden silence swallowed the hall. Cricket blinked at me. I looked around, surprised we were alone in such a vast space. Cricket smoothed down her cape and shirt, then wet a finger to paste down her hair.

  “Look at this place! What do you think he’s like, Lukien?”

  Now I was getting nervous, too. “Wealthy,” I said. “And wealthy men can’t be trusted. Full of sweet talk and bullshit, I bet. Watch yourself, Cricket. All those girls you saw back there? Probably slaves.”

  “I don’t think so, Lukien. They looked happy.”

  “Of course they do. Imagine being whipped for not smiling like an idiot all the time.” I took a deep breath, regretting it at once as the stink of lavender filled my nose. “Ugh! What kind of man-”

  “Shh, he’ll hear you,” scolded Cricket.

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Under his spell already.”

  And yet I was happy, mostly because Cricket was happy. The palace had sparked a brightness in her eyes I hadn’t seen in weeks. Once again, I let myself believe I’d done the right thing by taking her with me. If there was war in the Bitter Kingdoms, it seemed far away from Fallon’s extraordinary home.

  Finally, the golden door opened again, this time wide enough for us to see. Marilius stepped aside for us to enter, but Cricket and I just stood there, too awestruck to move. Sunlight struck our faces, streaming in off the sea. A pool of blue water washed slowly in and out of the palace. The chamber, if that’s truly what it was, hugged the water like two great arms, wrapping it in fantastical architecture. Inside were tiny palm trees and orchids the size of coconuts. Half-nude servants-men and women both-waited at the edge of the pool near a table heavy with food and silverware. A figure swam alone in the water, naked, twirling and backstroking. Cricket’s mouth fell open at the sight of him.

  “Oh. . my.”

  I scowled at Marilius, offended even if Cricket wasn’t. “Fate above, Marilius, what is this?”

  Marilius shrugged. “It’s noontime. This is where he takes his meals.”

  “Marilius, he’s naked.”

  “You’ll get used to it. Come in.”

  Cricket didn’t need to be asked twice, bolting for a better look. Song birds twittered in the miniature trees, and a perfect breeze blew off the sea. I caught up to Cricket as I approached the pool, putting my hand on her shoulder to stop her from diving in. She stared at Fallon, wide-eyed as he swam. Embarrassed, I tried to look away yet couldn’t somehow. He was, I admit, an amazing looking man. His strong physique moved effortlessly through the water, his longish copper-colored hair streaking behind him. He was thin like a woman but muscled like a man, like the palace statues. His skin was strange too, not white like mine or black like Sariyah’s, but a deep, tawny tone I’d never seen before. He rolled onto his back, spouted water from his mouth like a porpoise, then swam toward us, emerging from the water smiling and dripping wet.

  Marilius stepped forward. “Anton, here they are-Lukien and his squire.”

  Fallon’s emerald eyes flashed. In the center of his forehead a black tattoo caught my attention. A serving girl offered him a robe. Fallon waved if off as he looked us over, appraising us like pieces of art.

  “Sir Lukien,” he said, “you don’t look like a monster slayer.” He glanced at Marilius. “Are you sure about him?”

  “He can do it,” assured Marilius. “Trust me.”

  “He’s not too old?”

  “Hey,” I barked, hooking my thumb over my sword. “Talk to us. We’re standing right here.”

  Fallon smirked. “A one-eyed knight and a peasant girl? I’m skeptical.”

  “It’s rude to ignore us,” said Cricket.

  “And to stand there naked,” I added. “Put that robe on, please.”

  “Westerners.” Fallon folded his arms. “Where I come from whole families bathe together.” He smiled at Cricket and said, “Would you like to try that?”

  “That’s enough,” I erupted. Marilius quickly got between us.

  “Lukien, no. It’s nothing. It’s just how he is.”

  Fallon laughed and took the robe from the servant. “If it makes you more comfortable. .” He slipped on the garment. I studied the tattoo between his eyes, but couldn’t make out the symbol, like an upside down Y with a cross through it. A Zuran letter, I supposed. As Fallon took a seat at the head of the table, a bare-chested boy began brushing his long, wet hair.

  “It’s all right,” Marilius whispered. “He’s just. . different.”

  “Different? Marilius, he’s out of his mind. Why’d you bring us-”

  “Enough muttering, please,” said Fallon. His long fingers plucked a grape from a bowl. He sucked on it as he regarded me. “Marilius tells me you got in a tangle with Wrestler. He says he broke your neck. I find that remarkable.” He glanced at Cricket. “What’s your name, child?”

  “Cricket,” she replied.

  “Cricket? Ugly name for a pretty girl. Are you from these lands?”

  Cricket nodded. “I think so.”

  “Uh, excuse me, Lord Fallon,” I began.

  “Anton.” He smiled at me.

  “Exactly how much do you know about us?”

  “Sir Lukien, five
minutes ago I’d never even heard of you. Marilius seems to think you’re well known. Among mercenaries I suppose. Will you sit?”

  The servants held out chairs for us. Marilius took a seat close to Fallon. I held Cricket back.

  “Marilius hasn’t told us why he brought us here,” I said. “Did you say ‘monster slayer’?”

  “That’s right.” Fallon chose a strawberry this time. His eyes fell upon my sword. “That sword you carry-that’s your magic?”

  “Something like that.”

  “May I see it?”

  Malator said nothing. I unsheathed the sword, laying it out in both hands. Fallon seemed disappointed.

  “Boring. But if it’s as powerful as Marilius says I could sell it for you, Lukien. Maybe make you a very rich man. After you do what I need of you, obviously.”

  “And what would that be, exactly?” I sheathed the sword. “I should tell you I’m not for sale. We’re only here because of Marilius.”

  “He saved us,” said Cricket.

  “Did he?” Fallon patted Marilius’s arm. “So brave.”

  Marilius bristled. “He can help, Anton. That’s why I brought him.”

  “You brought him here to redeem yourself,” said Fallon. His nostrils flared, and I wondered-were he and Marilius lovers?

  “Please,” I said, “just tell us why we’re here.”

  Fallon flicked a wrist toward one of the servants, a girl with honey-blonde hair and one perfect breast exposed. The girl gently took my arm, smiling as she led me to a chair across from Fallon. Another servant-a male-gingerly took Cricket’s hand and did the same. My servant, however, sat down in my lap.

  “Her name is Druan,” said Fallon. “She’s yours for the night. Try eating grapes from between her legs. Heaven!”

  I let the girl kiss my cheek. Her naked breast brushed against me. I could feel the heat rising in my face.

  “No.” I gently pushed Druan away. I swear she looked dejected.

  “All right,” said Fallon, “just business, then. Druan is only part of my offer. I can pay you whatever you want, Lukien. If you’re the man to rid me of my problem, it’ll be worth it. Isowon isn’t just my home, you see. She’s my child, my dream. I built her with nothing, and I’ll not have her taken from me.”

  “Too fast,” I said. “Who’s trying to take Isowon from you?”

  “That thing,” said Fallon. “Diriel’s monster, whatever it is. He sent it to kill me.”

  “Diriel? From Akyre? Why would he do that?”

  “To take what’s mine, obviously! Look around, Sir Lukien. Isowon is incomparable. There’s nothing like it in all the Bitter Kingdoms and certainly not in that ash heap, Akyre. I built this whole place with spices. My routes, my contacts-they’re worth more than all the provinces of Akyre put together.”

  “Akyre’s already at war with Kasse and Drin,” I said. “We saw the refugees on the road. I doubt he’d try to attack Isowon as well.”

  “You don’t know Diriel, then,” said Fallon. “He wants everything, all the Bitter Kingdoms. This was all part of the Akyren empire once. That’s Diriel’s goal-to remake the empire. My spice routes would make that a lot easier for him.”

  Cricket grimaced at the news. “I don’t remember any of this. Not even Diriel. How can that be, Lukien?”

  “She’s from Akyre, Anton,” explained Marilius, “but she can’t remember more than that.”

  Fallon’s delicate face grew tender. “Then you’re a refugee too, girl. Like the others. I promise you: when this deed is done and the monster is killed, we will find your lost memories.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I warned. “I never said I’d help you. I don’t even know what this thing is.” Suddenly all I could think of was the monster I’d seen when I’d nearly died. “Describe it.”

  “It isn’t human, that’s for sure,” said Fallon. “It comes at night, looking for me, prowling outside the palace. Nine feet tall at least.”

  “You’ve seen it?”

  Fallon shook his head. “No. But Marilius has.”

  “So?” I looked at Marilius. “What’s it like?”

  “Like Anton said, Lukien-a monster. I barely even got a look at it.”

  “When was that?”

  Marilius shrugged. “About a week ago.”

  “Right before he left me,” sneered Fallon. “After the worst attack.”

  “Mercenaries don’t stick around when things get too tough,” I said. “Now I know why you left, Marilius. The only thing I don’t understand is why you came back.”

  “And that’s none of your concern, Lukien. Are you going to help us or not?”

  “I still haven’t heard a good reason why I should.”

  “Because I’m rich,” said Fallon. “And I can make you rich, too.”

  “Not interested. Marilius should have told you I’m not a mercenary anymore.”

  “He’s a knight-errant,” said Marilius sarcastically. “Lukien wants to do good, Anton.”

  “Well then, it’s killed people,” said Fallon, dangling that fact like a treat. “Not just soldiers but townspeople too. Almost a dozen now.”

  I tried to look unmoved. “Maybe the townsfolk should leave.”

  Fallon grinned. “Or maybe you’re afraid, Sir Lukien?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything, Fallon. Not dying and certainly not your monster. I just don’t want us involved.”

  “Bullshit,” said Marilius. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to get involved. You came to the Bitter Kingdoms looking for trouble, Lukien, you and that sword of yours. You want to prove what a big man you are? Here’s your chance.”

  “Marilius, I don’t think I’m the one trying to prove himself here,” I said with a wink. “Besides. . my business is in Akyre.”

  “Oh, right,” said Marilius. “Time for a rematch with Wrestler. Go ahead, take Cricket to Akyre. Get your neck broken again. But just remember those people you saw on the road, Lukien. That’s what Diriel is like. That’s what you’ll be riding into if you leave here.”

  “Or you can stay!” said Fallon brightly. He reached a hand across the table toward Cricket. “Let me help you figure out who you are, child. You’ll be safe here.”

  “If you help us beat this monster, Lukien,” said Marilius.

  Now they had me stumped. Fallon, Marilius, even the servants-they all waited, staring like helpless kittens. But the only one I really cared about was Cricket.

  “Cricket, walk with me.”

  I got out of my chair and started toward the other side of the pool, where the sea lapped into the palace. Cricket quickly followed. Out of earshot I said, “I’m lost here, squire. I can’t make this decision without you.”

  “What about Malator?” she asked. “What’s he think you should do?”

  “I haven’t asked him, and I’m not going to. These are our lives, Cricket. We can leave right now. We can head back toward Akyre and take our chances, maybe try to find that waterfall of yours, shake lose some of your memories.”

  “We could,” agreed Cricket. “But I know you, Lukien. You want to fight this thing because no one else can beat it. And you want to pay your debt to Marilius for saving us.”

  “Cricket, Fallon is out of his mind. And I can’t be sure, but I think he and Marilius are lovers.”

  “What?” Cricket stifled her laugh with her hand. “Honestly!”

  I just shook my head. “This is madness. Malator showed me a monster before we left Jador. And I saw a monster in my dreams. It’s all connected, Cricket-the monster, the Legion of the Lost, everything.”

  “Then that’s your answer, Lukien. You found your mission.”

  “I already have a mission, Cricket. You.”

  “Oh, I’m not going anywhere, Lukien, don’t you worry. I’m your squire. I want to see this beasty for myself!”

  I didn’t tell Cricket why I really wanted to find this monster. I didn’t tell her that day or any other day. This monster stalking An
ton Fallon, this unnamed, unseen thing-how could it not be the same beast Malator had drawn? It wasn’t just after Fallon, it was after Cricket, too. And if it was after Cricket, that meant it had to die.

  12

  We rode out from Isowon at dawn the next morning, the new day’s sunlight gleaming off my old bronze armor. Cricket had spent much of the night making it ready, insisting I wear it to battle the beast. She had polished the breast plate into a satiny mirror, removing every bit of grime. She worked proudly, like a real squire, and rode at my side on her well-groomed pony, her cape of rass skin on her shoulders like a trophy.

  Marilius rode at point, leading us east along the coast. Before he’d fled Isowon for Arad, other of Fallon’s men had tracked a trail of blood this same way. They never found the monster, just the skeletal remains of their fellow mercenaries. Still, they suspected the creature made its lair in the hills at the mouth of the Dovra River-almost a day’s ride from Fallon’s palace.

  No one seemed to know why the creature only attacked at night, or why it made its home so far from its intended prey. I puzzled over this as we rode.

  Before long we were out of Isowon’s shadow, leaving the protection of the palace far behind. For the first time in months-maybe even years-I felt like a knight again, like a Royal Charger, confident and ready to face Fallon’s monster. I’d made a terrible mistake when fighting Wrestler-I had left my sword behind. This time, Malator and all his magic would be with me. Whatever the creature might be, it was mortal, and I was not, and that meant I could kill it. I made the link with Malator as we rode, speaking to him wordlessly while Cricket and Marilius made small talk of their own.

  You’ve been quiet, I told him. Any advice?

  I expected Malator to be petulant over being excluded. Instead he was pensive. This is why you came here, Lukien, he said. Maybe now we’ll have some answers.

  You still don’t know what the monster is?

  I do not.

  But you’ve been thinking about it, right? I sighed out loud. Come on, Malator-you saw death when you drew that picture in the sand.

  You saw death, Lukien. I saw a monster.

 

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