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The King's Knight (Royal Blood Book 5)

Page 10

by Kristen Gupton


  But they hadn’t.

  After yet another of Arin’s generous meals, Betram and Etras sat outside of the tent, sipping their respective cups of a favorite Sadori dessert liqueur.

  Betram had given Etras his accounting of what had happened across the bridge in Takrah. Rumors had been plentiful, but knowing the facts intrigued Etras further.

  “You’ve had another day to think about it, yes? Have you made any decisions?” Etras asked his guest.

  Betram stared down into his cup and shook his head. “While you have been very kind to me, most here have not. I don’t think I can find the help I need here.”

  “Where will you go?” Etras turned to look at Betram.

  “When I spoke to Marique after my arrival, I told him I need the strength of a vampire to combat Danier. He suggested that I had one as a friend.” Betram shrugged and slouched. “I do not know if King Sipesh will help, however.”

  Etras smiled to himself, remembering the man well enough. “Keiran is a very unusual man. He doesn’t act like most leaders I have met. He is a good man, vampire or not, yes?”

  The level of familiarity Etras had gained with King Sipesh struck Betram as odd. “I’m afraid that most of the Tordanian’s goodwill toward the Sadori people stems from the help you gave him, not because of anything I did. We tried to steal away his woman. Like your wife, she lost her hand because of my actions, though I didn’t intend for it to happen.”

  Etras was silent for several minutes. Betram was no longer in power on any level. If there was ever an opportunity to be honest with the former leader, this was it.

  “I do not mean what I’m about to say in any disrespect, Emperor,” Etras started, lowering his voice. “Seeing how Arin suffered after she was exiled and being forced to give up all that I had built in Takrah, I was filled with hatred toward you for many years.”

  The old man hung his head. “But you have been kind to me since I came here.”

  “There was a time that I, like you, thought all those who broke our laws and were sentenced to exile deserved it. That made me no better than you were. Make no mistake, there are crimes fitting of exile, I still believe that, but not all crimes should incur such an extreme punishment.” He finished off his drink and set the small cup aside. “With my love for Arin, however, and seeing how she remained so open hearted after we came here despite what had befallen her… eventually, I became a better man.”

  Betram gave a slow nod, trying to understand.

  Etras lifted a hand and motioned toward the bridge. “Under your rule, most of those in the empire were doing well. Danier? No, he will be a tyrant. He will do only what he thinks will serve his interests. He is bad for the Sadori people. This must not be allowed to go on. It is for them that I must help you.”

  “I dread to think how many of our people were already killed from the Quitam invasion of Takrah,” Betram said.

  “Even if I still carried hatred in my heart for you, Emperor, I would help to see Danier removed, because it is the right thing to do, yes?” The younger man locked gazes with Betram.

  “You will help me get to King Sipesh?” Betram asked, his hands tightening around his cup.

  Etras opened his mouth to reply, but a sudden flurry of activity near the bridge caused him to stand up. He walked forward, straining his eyes to see into the distance.

  The Ibianese soldiers on the bridge were being confronted by several men on horseback. They demanded to be let past or given Emperor Betram, their excited voices carrying down the road.

  Etras’ heart raced, and his eyes went wide. “We must go. Now!”

  Betram rose and tried to follow Etras’ line of sight, but his aged eyes simply couldn’t make out what was going on in the darkness. “They are coming for me?”

  “Yes! Remaining here will put my family at great risk. I will take you to Tordania, but we must leave immediately! We don’t have time to get horses, I hope you can run!” Etras darted back into the tent to bid Arin goodbye and to grab his sword.

  Betram awaited his return, wringing his hands nervously before his stomach. To turn to an outsider and a vampire for help ran against every instinct he possessed. “I pray that we are making the right decision…”

  * * *

  “Corina! It’s happening again!” Thana screamed, climbing onto the bed. Keiran’s entire body went completely rigid as he was gripped by a seizure.

  The old woman raced into the room, having only managed a half dozen steps down the hall before hearing Thana’s panicked cry. She moved to the opposite side of the bed, looking him over. “What in the hell did this sword do to him?”

  Thana had tears in her eyes, feeling helpless. “Keir, please…”

  Corina had tried everything in her arsenal to alleviate his symptoms over the course of the previous night and into the next day, but nothing seemed to be working. His condition simply continued to deteriorate, and now he’d developed assorted neurological signs.

  Defeated, there was only one more thing she could think of, but it wasn’t something she kept in her own cupboard. “I need something stronger. Go to Mari and Garhan’s room. If you can get in, see if that woman left any meadow wort lying around.”

  Thana gave a quick nod and flew from the room, willing to try anything to help her husband. She reached the door to the room in question and took a deep breath before trying the handle, hoping it wasn’t locked.

  To her relief, the door swung inward. The light coming in the small window was sufficient enough to navigate by, and she entered, looking around. She’d been inside very few times since Mari and Garhan had moved in, and she didn’t know where to begin her search.

  There were several places with Garhan’s assorted art supplies piled in the room, but a small box on a side table caught her attention. She went over to it and opened up the top, finding a smaller silver box within. After pulling out the inner box, she opened it and found a few small dried heart-shaped leaves inside. The sickly sweet smell of the herb verified its identity, and she closed the box again, running back to her room.

  “I found some,” she said, passing the box over to Corina.

  The old woman opened it up and looked at the tiny leaves, hoping she was making the right decision. She knew the dangers the drug contained, but if it stopped the tremors and convulsions Keiran had begun to suffer, it might be worth it.

  She looked over at Thana. “I believe using this to be the best course of action, but he is your husband, and you do have a say in the matter.”

  Thana moved over and sat down beside Keiran, seeing he’d relaxed and was asleep again. In her fear, she’d not given any thought to the dangers of the medicinal plant. “I know you and the others have said it is a risky herb to use, but how bad can it truly be? Mari uses it several times a day.”

  “That little woman only smokes it and has been using it for who knows how long, and she’s built up a tolerance for it,” Corina said, coming to sit next to her, setting the box down on the bedside table. “It will stop his seizures…”

  “…but it may stop everything else, too?” Thana asked, shaking her head.

  “Aye, as in death. Ingestion can be fatal, but I don’t know how to get smoke into his lungs in his condition without dosing us as well. Can such things even kill him? For all of my knowledge, girl, I don’t know what’s happening to Keir, or what complications his vampirism may add to things.” The old woman’s shoulders rounded.

  “What sort of magic is in that weapon?” Thana asked, glancing back at her husband.

  “That sword isn’t magic, it’s evil. The metal itself is some manner of poison, and it’s running its wicked course through his entire system. These individual symptoms…I’ve seen every one, but all at once?” Corina hung her head and dropped her hands into her lap. “I’m so tired, Thana. I’m terrified over his condition, and I know if I stop to try and rest at all, I’ll break down over Kanan.”

  Her words hit Thana hard. She’d been so preoccupied over Keiran’s survival
that she’d not spent much consideration on the fact Corina’s own husband had died. While Kanan’s death was weighing on her, what poor Corina had to be suffering must have been far worse.

  She quickly scooted closer and put her arms around the old woman. “Corina, you’ve done more for him than anyone else could have. I’ve learned more from helping you tend to him over the previous day than I could have ever imagined. You need your strength, though, and if you need a break, I…I think I can do this.”

  The old woman gladly returned her embrace, closing her eyes. Though she desperately needed some rest, being completely alone was something she didn’t want. “Perhaps I should make up another bed in here. Then, I can sleep but be close enough should you need me.”

  Thana pulled back after several moments and gave Corina a grateful nod. “I wouldn’t mind that one bit. Then, perhaps, we can take shifts watching over him.”

  Corina stood up and sighed. “I’ll get some blankets. As for the meadow wort, we will hold off on that and see how he progresses for a while longer.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  They both looked at Keiran, surprised to hear him speak.

  He swallowed hard and forced his eyes open. “Just…don’t give me that noxious weed.”

  Corina’s shoulders rounded. She was visibly relieved to hear something coherent out of him. “All right, Keir. None of that for you.”

  Thana had turned where she sat and placed her left hand against his chest. “Is there anything you want?”

  “Just lay here with me for a while so Corina can get herself situated,” he replied, his voice little more than a dry whisper.

  * * *

  The last stone was placed, and Jerris tipped his head up toward the sun. The previous days had continued to be unseasonably warm, and he’d found the ground on his small farm thawed and dry enough to work. He’d taken off his shirt as he’d dug his father’s grave, and the skin on his back had burnt to a bright pink.

  Magretha came out of the house with a bottle of ale in hand and passed it to her husband, looking over his work. Jerris had placed stones atop the grave the same way Kanan had done over his first wife’s plot decades before. “You did a very beautiful job.”

  Jerris took the bottle from her and had a long drink before replying. Though he tried to keep the tears from returning, he failed and one trailed down his cheek as he lowered the bottle. “Mag, this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do.”

  She placed a hand on his lower back and rested her head against his shoulder. Her eyes burned as well. Kanan had been very kind to her, and he’d been the best father-in-law she could have gotten. “He was a remarkable man, and he raised a remarkable son.”

  Jerris hung his head, feeling exhaustion and grief flooding over him. “I have been thinking quite a bit over the last two days.”

  “Have you made a decision?” she asked.

  “Aye, and I will go back to the castle tonight,” he replied, forcing up a smile for her.

  Magretha nodded and took a step away from him. “Then come in and rest for a while. I’ve made you something to eat, and I’ll need to get some ointment on that toasted hide of yours.”

  * * *

  With the heavy support of two men, Keiran had made it to the throne room. He sat slumped back into his seat, lips parted as he struggled to breathe in a way that wasn’t agonizing. Corina and Thana had both protested his insistence on going back to work, but he needed to do something other than lay around and think about Kanan’s death.

  Not able to keep food or blood down over the previous days, his cheeks were hollow, his eyes sunken. Though Thana tried to help him keep clean, his constant bouts of fever and chills had left his hair matted down with sweat, his complexion ghastly.

  The edges of the gash across his stomach had finally quit expanding. Now, the wound was surrounded by bands of bright red and black, dead tissue. The constant smell of decay from the wound only worsened his nausea, and he’d begun to wonder if he was going to simply rot away while still alive.

  Thana had remained at his side, doing everything she could to ease his suffering. She’d learned more about preparing narcotic potions from Corina over the previous days than she’d ever wanted to.

  She sat in the queen’s throne, her left hand clamped over Keiran’s right, trying to keep him anchored to the present. “I wish you’d go back to bed.”

  He looked at her, the whites of his eyes marred with strange red hemorrhages. He’d been in the throne room for a few hours, but most of what his advisors had spoken with him about had already slipped his mind. “If I lay there any longer, I think I will die.”

  Had Thana the ability to muster anymore tears, they would have come. She lifted his lifeless hand up and placed it against her cheek. “Please don’t say such things. You must get better.”

  He looked away from her and swallowed, tasting blood in his mouth. His gums had started bleeding between his teeth for the eighth time that day. “I think… I would like to try a bit of water.”

  Thana nodded and quickly stood to go to the kitchen. “I will return shortly.”

  Keiran offered her an empty smile before tipping his head back and closing his eyes. He had no idea how much time had passed when he opened them again, seeing Jerris standing before him, his sheathed sword held in his hands.

  The vampire tried to sit up a little more. “Are you all right?”

  Jerris stared down at the ground, his body wracked with nervous tension. “No, not in the least.”

  “About your father?” Keiran asked.

  “That’s part of it.” Jerris took a long breath and tipped his head up toward the ceiling. The grief and anger within him put a waver in his voice. “For all of Athan’s torment over the years, he never killed anyone in this castle before, did he?”

  Keiran frowned and gave a single nod of his head. “Aside from Farin? Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Keir,” Jerris dropped his chin down to his chest, dreading what he was about to say. “We were fine. We were all fine. I know it’s been your aspiration all along to see an end to Athan, but you are in no position to stop him. Still, you’ve goaded and defied him every step of the way since your coronation. I’ll admit, I even found humor in your rebellion now and then, but this whole thing with Athan, he has now proven it isn’t a game! You cannot help yourself from prodding the dragon. All of us hate Athan and what he does, but he really didn’t do us any great harm.”

  Pain or not, Keiran groaned and writhed to force himself to his feet. He felt incredibly unsteady, the muscles of his back and sides doing their best to stabilize his posture.

  Once he managed up, he narrowed his eyes at Jerris. “I think my sister, mother, and even Adira would greatly debate that.”

  Jerris leaned forward and waved one of his hands toward his own chest. “He didn’t kill any of us!”

  Keiran slowly descended the stairs, nearly falling as he got onto ground level. He drew in a hiss, the agony in his midsection worsening as his damaged abdominal muscles struggled to keep him upright. “Jerris, you know as well as I do that it was only a matter of time before he did.”

  Anger flashed up within the guard. Though he knew his friend wasn’t in any condition for this, he had to get it out and done with. “No! No, Keir! You can’t say that! You don’t have the right to say that! Athan warned you! He warned all of us what would happen if you kept insisting on pushing back!”

  There wasn’t a hint of warning before Keiran’s fangs descended, emerging stained with his own blood. Adrenaline entered his system, pushing aside some of his weakness. “Kanan’s death has hurt me, too! I will live with that guilt for the rest of my days, numbered though they may be!”

  Jerris moved closer, fearless. “He may have raised both of us, but he was my father, and he is dead because of your incessant rebellion against Athan! To have seen the old man go from either nature or dying in the line of duty for a purpose would have been one thing, but this was pointless! I
’m done. I can’t do this.”

  “Do what?” Keiran asked, his cheeks growing hot.

  Jerris held out his sword between them. “I resign. I quit. I’m done.”

  Keiran looked down at the sheathed weapon and furrowed his brow. “You can’t resign! You’re the King’s Knight, for God’s sake!”

  “Find another! I don’t care.” Jerris’ hands trembled, the sword shaking between them. “It is only a matter of time before you push Athan again. I won’t stay here and watch you get the others I care about killed because you insist on needling him. I will not mourn another. Take the damn sword. I am done.”

  Keiran’s anger abated, being replaced by a fear he’d never quite known. “Jerris, please, I know you’re upset, but you must understand that Athan is out to dominate the entire world, and I’m one of very few with any possibility of stopping him!”

  “I know you feel a sense of duty about it, and that’s fine, you are the king and I cannot stop you.” Jerris let the sword fall to the floor. The impact caused the rapier to clatter half way out of its sheath. “So, go on and keep at it. I know you will anyway, but I won’t be here to watch the rest of you die or to be killed myself.”

  Keiran looked down at the sword, feeling light headed. “Jerris, calm down and think about what you’re saying!”

  When Jerris spoke again, his voice was quiet and monotone. “I have thought it through. I’ve been thinking it over since it happened. I thought about it for hours on end today as I buried my father. Perhaps you can stomach watching more die, but I can’t. I’d rather walk away from you right here and now than watch Athan slowly tear you apart some day. I know what it feels like to see you die, Keir, and I cannot go through it again.”

  Adrenaline or not, Keiran’s strength was failing. He closed his eyes and turned his head away. “Jerris, I’m not going to let that happen.”

  “You can’t stop it!” The guard began to feel dizzy in his rage and sadness. His vision blurred. “He’s stronger than you! You’re nothing but a child compared to him! The only means of harming him that you possessed is gone! I’m sorry, Keir, but I’m done. Goodbye.”

 

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