King's Vengeance

by Ronald Coleborn

  “All in the wrist,” Jerreb said, looking to the sky. “Our lizard foes have vanished.”

  “Good to know the cursed things can still die,” Sendin said.

  They looked at the man and young woman slowly walking toward them. “Come on,” Jerreb said. “It’s only right that we give these two the opportunity to thank us.”

  “I wish we knew more about this dragon tamer,” Ellerick said to Ghendris as they walked along a crowded wooden quay toward a large merchant ship. “We’ve no idea what she looks like or what age she is. She could be as common as a milk maid or a serving wench.”

  “Quarvik told me I’d find her. What more do you need?” Ghendris replied, his eyes going to a flock of seagulls gliding on a current of air to his right, just above the water’s surface.

  “I wish I had your confidence, Ghendris.”

  “It’s not so much confidence as a feeling in my gut. Call it faith if you like, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

  When they came to the merchant ship, a four-masted vessel with the name Wet Dreamer painted on its bow, they stopped and gaped at its masts, which looked tall enough to scrape the clouds.

  “Ever been on a sailing ship before?” Ghendris asked.

  “Never.”

  “Come on, then,” Ghendris said, and he stepped onto the gangplank that led to the main deck. A white-bearded man was standing there barking orders to a handful of crewmen, and Ghendris, figuring the man for the captain, waited until he was done and the crewmen had scurried off to secure rigging, sew patches in canvas sails, or do the hundred other tasks necessary to prepare a vessel for a long voyage. But before Ghendris could get a word out, the man turned to them straightaway and approached, limping in his worn boots. “I seen you two standing there,” he said, scowling through his thick white beard. “Who be you?”

  “Name’s Ghendris. This here’s Ellerick of …”

  “Usig,” Ellerick said.

  “Knights, eh?” said the captain.

  “No,” Ghendris corrected. “I’m no king’s man. Just the little feller here. We were told by the innkeeper of the waterside inn that your vessel sails to the Isle of Kebriyu.”

  “Twice each moon, and we’re to set sail in five hours. What of it?”

  “We’d like to take ship with you to Kebriyu, Captain …”

  “Zellis.”

  “We can pay our way.”

  “We don’t make it a business to haul loads that piss and fart, such as yourselves. She’s a merchant ship, built for moving cargo.”

  “How much coin would it take to get you to bend the rules?” asked Ghendris.

  “To the sea phaemons with your coin,” Captain Zellis said. “Be off my ship unless you’re here to lend muscle.”

  Ghendris took a look around the deck and saw a scraggly bunch of youths moving about. “In need of able bodies are you? Let us join your crew.”

  Captain Zellis squinted at Ellerick and frowned.

  “I’ll more than make up for anything he lacks,” Ghendris said.

  The captain looked Ghendris up and down, studying his legs, arms, and chest. “All right. But you’ll do as I say, and when I say.”

  “Fair enough,” said Ghendris. “Where are the crew quarters?”

  “You’re standing on ’em,” Captain Zellis replied. “Storage only below decks, so there’s no room for cargo. Here’s where you’ll piss and fart with the other worthless dogs in this kennel.”

  “You’re looking at battle-tested warriors, fresh from defending the realm,” said Ellerick. “We’ll take anything you throw as us.”

  “Defending the realm from what?” the captain asked.

  “You haven’t heard?” asked Ellerick.

  “The most I see of this rock is Ryseland. Been no farther inland than that, and I don’t mix with the folks of this port. So what haven’t I heard?”

  “The Glyssian Realm has fallen,” Ellerick said. “A horde of savages from the Freelands has gathered, and they laid siege to the two highest castles in the land and overthrew the king.”

  “I heard there were savages running around, pillaging lands and holdings,” Captain Zellis said. “But I’ve heard no whispers of an overthrow.”

  “You’re right to call them whispers,” said Ghendris. “My friend here speaks idle gossip. Pay him no mind.”

  “I won’t,” said the captain. “Nor you, either. But I’ll give you leave to fetch any provisions you think you’ll be needing for the voyage. It’ll be a long, hard one, so stock up well. And bear in mind there’ll be little rest. Now run along and be back here within the hour. I’ll need you to help ready the ship for launch.”

  “Aye, aye, captain,” Ghendris said. He and Ellerick descended the gangplank and made their way back along the quay as they headed for town. As they walked along the squat seaside buildings, navigating the crowds that bustled in the street, Ghendris said to Ellerick, “No more talk of overthrows and such business. Doubtful that news has reached the commoners. We don’t want to start a panic before something can be done about it.”

  “I’ll say no more on the matter,” Ellerick said.

  “Good. Now let’s find a shop that sells dry goods. And maybe we can scrounge up a barrel of ale.”

  The queen looked out at the water as Herrin Dellip drove the wagon up the narrow two-lane road that climbed the cliff face overlooking part of Kaypha’s Landing. The port shrank below them as they advanced, and the queen heeded Herrin’s words of warning not to look down. The road, cut into the nearly vertical cliff, fell sheer to the sea below, which foamed white against a series of jagged rocks.

  When the banners of Daefferun Castle came into view, waving high over the ridge, the queen felt a twinge of anxiety. She didn’t know if the vassor would be willing to help her cause. Thayrin Grayvig was known to be a hard man with a long memory, and it was no secret that the queen had once spurned his affections. It had been twenty-six annos ago, when they were students together in the sapient school in Flavah.

  She remembered the day well. It had happened during their science lesson, a lecture on the ancient writings of Dysigemies and other Glyssian sources. Whenever the sapient leading the lesson turned his attention to his book or acknowledged the raised hand of another student, Thayrin would look up from his wooden tablet and reach over to tickle Klienne’s ear with his ivory stylus. She had tried to ignore him, but when he accidentally marked her cheek with black wax, she told him he was “carrying on like a child.” The sapient heard and removed them both from his class. Then, as they walked from the lecture hall and crossed the manicured grounds of the monastery, Thayrin plucked a honey rose from a bush and knelt before her, asking for her hand in marriage. Klienne had flushed with anger at this further affront and refused him, saying she was already promised to another.

  “Who?” Thayrin had asked.

  “A nobleman, said to be blood to the current king. But that matters not to me. All I know is that we are in love, and his family has arranged to collect me this summer, so I won’t be heading to university with you.”

  “What is his name?”

  Klienne had gazed up at the cloudless sky and beamed a smile as bright as the afternoon sun. “Hertrigan Vame.”

  Thayrin Grayvig had stormed off, crushing the honey rose in his hand and flinging it away. Klienne had seen him on a handful of occasions since then, all of them court business. The vassor had attended tourneys her husband had ordered, as well as meetings to discuss the realm’s affairs—trade routes and tariffs, taxes and coinage, roads and bridges, and the myriad other matters that needed to be decided. Since their time at Flavah, however, they had not spent a moment alone. She suspected that would change now.

  She could see the curtain wall of Daefferun Castle and towers rising up from within the bailey. In a few moments she would come face to face with a man she had rejected, one who held the fate of the realm in his hands. She regretted the circumstance in which she found herself, but she knew her duty and was dete
rmined to see it through to whatever end awaited.

  She felt Herrin Dellip’s eyes on her and snapped herself out of her reverie.

  “Something the matter, your grace?” Herrin asked.

  “Nothing at all, Herrin. Just thinking about the past.”

  “Being back at Kaypha’s Landing stirring up old memories, then?”

  “I’ve never been to Kaypha’s Landing, I’m afraid. Nor Payzik, for that matter. A shame really, but I’m here now, though not on terms I would have desired.”

  “Well, make the best of a given situation I always say. It may be that the vassor will greet you with open arms and command at once that a fleet be launched in your honor.”

  “I do not seek honor in this matter,” said the queen. “Do not mistake my efforts, Herrin.”

  “Beg pardon, your grace. I only meant—”

  “Leave it. I know what you meant.”

  “Yes, your grace.”

  Klienne offered him a wan smile. “But I hope the vassor acts in a manner befitting your well wishes. May the Ancients grant it.”

  “May they indeed,” Herrin said.

  Sapient Breen and Princess Redora walked toward their two saviors as the men approached on horseback. The strangers had appeared unexpectedly and vanquished the pursuing savages like avenging Ancients.

  “Stay close to me,” Breen whispered to her as they walked. “We don’t know these men, or their intentions.”

  Redora nodded and drew closer.

  As the strangers neared, Breen thought he recognized one of them. When the white coursers finally stopped in front of them, Breen was sure of it. “You’re the Knight at the Head of the king’s Outer Guard, are you not?”

  “I am,” said Jerreb. “Or I was, if the realm has fallen as I believe it has.”

  “I hardly recognized you without your gilded armor,” said Breen. “Sir Jerreb is it?”

  Jerreb nodded and then narrowed his eyes at Breen. “And you are?”

  “Jayvin Breen, Grand Tutor to”—he looked at Redora—“Princess Redora.”

  “The princess!” cried Sendin, his eyes wide.

  “So it is,” Jerreb acknowledged. He gave the girl a nod and then turned again to Breen. “Perhaps you’ll explain what you and she are doing out here and why she’s dressed in peasant garb.”

  “As you rightly said, the realm has fallen, and the castle is overrun by people of the plains,” Breen replied. “We managed to sneak out of the castle during the tumult and have been on the run ever since. A company of the savages that overran the castle came after us. I thank you for dealing with them.”

  “A knight’s pleasure,” Jerreb said. “What is the fate of the king?”

  “Uncertain,” said Breen, who glanced quickly at Redora. “I cannot tell you what’s happened to any of the Vames besides the princess who stands before you.”

  Jerreb saw the sadness in Redora’s eyes and wished he had some words of hope or encouragement. But he had none. “Where were you headed?” he asked Breen.

  Breen pointed toward the distant forest. “I sought the safety of Bokrh, but I intended to take the princess to my family’s lands, outside of the city of Mayul, just to the south.”

  “That whole area will be patrolled before long,” said Sendin.

  “Yes, and many of the villages and settlements south of here are occupied by Dremsa forces,” added Jerreb, who glanced again at Redora. “Even if she goes unrecognized, the princess would be in danger in those lands. And the Prybbian Realm is a greater danger.”

  “One way or another, I must see the princess to a place where she’ll be safe,” Breen said.

  Jerreb squinted at him. “You’re a sapient you say.”

  “A grand tutor.”

  “Hence the blue and black in your attire,” Jerreb said. “In lieu of the traditional red.”

  “That’s so,” said Breen. “What of it?”

  Jerreb angled his head toward the bodies strewn about on the ground behind them. “That man there, in the red and black, he was a sapient. Why would a sapient run with Dremsa savages? And in pursuit of the princess, no less.”

  Breen shook his head slowly, his expression one of genuine puzzlement. “That I cannot answer, good sir. But I assure you I had nothing to do with whatever conspiracy is obviously afoot here.”

  “A conspiracy indeed,” Sendin put in.

  Jerreb glanced warily across the field of yellow shortgrass that filled Eastern Plain. “One that’s probably been brewing for—”

  Just then a slender gray dog emerged from the forest and sprinted toward them.

  “What is that?” asked the princess.

  “A pryor hound,” Breen murmured, staring at the dog.

  “Is it dangerous?” the princess asked.

  “No,” Breen said. “It’s a message carrier, trained in the tradition of the old Gavel Pryors of Austrand, who hail from the town of the same name. After the last of the Gavel Pryors died out many years ago, the best among the ancestors of these hounds were trained to replace them. You can see the slender pouches that

  hang at its sides like saddlebags.”

  “I’ve never seen one before,” said Jerreb.

  “Nor I,” Sendin added.

  “They’re used primarily by the high born and wealthy landowners in the west,” Breen explained. “This one must have traveled quite far.”

  “Maybe we should have a look at its pouches,” Sendin proffered. “See what tidings it carries.”

  “Only if you want your arm ripped from its socket,” Breen said as the hound bounded past them without a glance in their direction. “It’s no Ivull dog, but it will fight to the death to keep its parcels safe.”

  The hound stopped short when it spotted the dead lizard creature. It moved slowly toward the carcass and circled around it, sniffing and growling. Then it tore a chunk of flesh from its body and hastily downed it.

  “Yes, I believe it traveled a good distance, Sapient Breen,” said Jerreb, as he watched the hound sprint off toward the fogs of Heth Village. “We might do well to follow suit.”

  “We?” Breen said, an eyebrow arched.

  “We’ll escort the princess and yourself through these hostile lands to a place of safety.”

  Breen smiled. He looked to the princess, who was smiling as well. “It seems we’ve formed an alliance, your grace.”

  “We’ll double up,” Jerreb said. He held out a hand to Redora. “You can ride with me, your grace.”

  After Breen and Redora climbed onto the horses, Jerreb took the lead and headed his courser toward the road that led south.

  “I thought we agreed we should avoid going south,” Sendin said.

  “We did,” said Jerreb. “But”—he breathed a hard sigh—“loath though I am to admit it, we need the boy’s aid once again.”

  “You’re sure?” Sendin asked.

  “He might be blind, but he can see far better than either of us at the moment.”

  “Very well,” said Sendin. “You’re still in charge, Sir Jerreb, and I’ll follow you to the netherworld if you plan to storm its gates next.”

  “I’ve no doubt you would, Sendin. Which is why I count you a brother as well as friend.”

  “He wants her fed, washed, and dressed at once,” Sapient Syrim said to the head dungeon guard standing outside the cell that held Princess Ellyssa. “Have one of her handmaids see to it at once.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Guard Commander Raeg replied, coming to attention with a stomp of his foot. When the sapient ascended the steps that led up to the great hall, Raeg turned to his subordinate and ordered him to open the doors. The younger guard fumbled with the key to the latch, finally unlocking it as Raeg looked on disapprovingly. The two men swung open the heavy doors, and then Raeg lit a candle and stepped inside the cell.

  Seated on a low stone bench in a corner of the dank prison cell was a young woman clad in a dirty garden dress, watching with frightened eyes as the guard commander moved toward her. She
shrank back and squeezed her eyes closed as he began to speak.

  “You’re to be fed and washed. My man will take you to your chambers, and one of your handmaids will clean the filth from you and set you a princess once more. You’re to go before the king.”

  Ellyssa opened her eyes wide and for a moment the fear and despair that marked her face seemed to lift. “I’m to see my father?”

  “Your father’s dead,” Raeg replied. “You’ll be seeing King Nerus Vayjun.”

  A high-pitched wail like that of a wounded animal pierced the heavy air, sending a chill down Raeg’s spine. When the princess slammed her head back against the stone wall, he dropped the candle and took hold of her, dragging her away from the wall. She threw him off, and began thrashing and kicking her feet violently, but the other guard bolted into the room and grabbed her ankles, and together they held her down. Ellyssa’s screaming brought two other guards, and the four men finally managed to put a gag in her mouth to stop her howling.

  “Is she possessed?” one of the guards asked.

  Raeg shook his head. “She’s grief-stricken. Now go fetch me a sapient, and be quick about it.”

  “Which one, sir?”

  “Any sapient, but have him bring poison flowers.”

  The guard rushed from the dungeon and returned five minutes later with Sapient Keddrus, a seasoned healer who brought batches of crushed poison flowers and herbs in leather drawstring pouches. The moment Keddrus entered the cell and witnessed the princess’s distress, he turned to one of the guards. “Fetch me boiling water and a chalice at once.”

  Keddrus knelt down on the stone floor next to the princess, who was still being restrained by three guards. “I’m going to give you something to help calm you and ease your pain,” he said. “I’m going to remove the gag from your mouth so you may drink it, but you must promise not to scream or thrash about. Do you promise?”

  The princess, who was staring at Keddrus with pleading eyes, nodded, and the sapient removed her gag as Raeg and the other two guards looked on nervously.

  “Raeg, go stand by the cell door, you other two wait outside,” Keddrus said.

  Raeg hesitated a moment and then nodded and stepped back, and the other two left the cell. Keddrus helped the princess to an upright position leaning against the back wall, where she moaned and twisted her head back and forth.