lastkingsamazon

by Chris Northern

  I say that was my biggest problem. I'm not sure it's true. They'd let me keep my stone, after a fashion.

  “We didn't think you could climb down. Didn't think you had it in you, frankly,” Ferrian told me when I was safely ensconced in my room, my cell. “I guess your dangerous-looking friend killed the guards. He'll be an asset, I'm sure, one way or another.”

  I didn't see the point in responding.

  “Larner put a ward over the window, so no going out there. It'll hurt and we will know.”

  So Larner had been Turned. I'd started to think of it in that way, like a title. The Turned.

  “He'll be along to see you later; talk to you, see what you know. We won't be seeing much of each other, I'm afraid. I have other duties. But I'm sure Larner will look after you admirably; he has one or two ideas.”

  I didn't respond. Why bother? They would do what they would do and I would endure as best I could. Jocasta was safe, for now, and free. That mattered. It didn't much matter what happened to me. I was, after all, pretty useless.

  He went to the door. “Relax,” he said, “take a drink,” and was gone.

  I did. A small brandy. I sipped it slowly and fantasized murder.

  Larner strode through the door some time Later. “Ah, our lost lamb returned to the fold. How are you feeling?”

  I was sitting up on the bed, still imagining new ways to kill Ferrian. I didn't respond.

  “Not very friendly, Sumto.” He crossed the room to stand by the bed, too close for my liking. “Here, I have a present for you.” He pressed his hand against my forehead, too quick for me to react, and there was a near invisible flash of light. I slapped my hand to my forehead as he stepped rapidly back. “There, perfect. Now we will always be able to find you.”

  I probed at my forehead. There was something there, something small and hard and warm. A stone. The stone Jocasta had given me, or mine, it didn't matter which.

  “It's embedded in your skull. I suppose you could cut it out. Well...” he thought a moment. “Yes, I think you do have it in you to do that, so...” He leaned in again and I made a fist, waiting. “I could always bring the guards in here to hold you down. What do you think?”

  No. I couldn't win this battle. No point in fighting it. I dropped my hand to my lap and relaxed.

  He touched my forehead and there was another flash and pain, sudden flaring pain that was fading even before I could cry out. “Now if you remove it you will burst several blood vessels in your brain. Not a healthy thing to have happen.”

  “What did they do to you?”

  He shrugged, face suddenly bitter and angry. “Changed my mind. Opened my eyes, as they will open yours one way or another. It is easier to obey...” he trailed off, then suddenly came to himself. “Now, I have another present for you. Want to see?”

  I shrugged. “Do I have a choice?”

  “Not really, no.” He crossed to the window, waved his hand to disable the ward and stepped onto the balcony. I could still see him when he turned back. “Come along, then.”

  I followed him. They'd broken him. Somehow. He was not the man I knew, that was for sure. This crazy old man had nothing in common with the Larner I had known in the camp. His false cheer was grating, unnatural. I decided I didn't want to know what had Turned him. Some horrors it's better not to contemplate.

  “There, good,” he said as I joined him. He took my arm and led me to the balcony edge. Once there he pointed into the courtyard. I looked down.

  They might have been dogs, once. But the gods alone knew what they were now. They were in the hands of two handlers, and pulled at their leashes. Their fur had gone gray. Terror will do that to you. They strained toward me, snarling and barking madly, jaws spraying spit, muzzles wrinkled. Their handlers were having a hard time holding them back, and they were both big men.

  “They don't like you much. Sorry there are only two of them. I suppose I could make more, but I think two will do, don't you?”

  I nodded dumbly.

  “They can smell the stone, you see. Smell it anywhere, no matter how far away you are they will come after you. You will hear them coming, the sound vibrating from the stone, into your skull and then to your ears. A reminder that they are out there, coming for you. So,” he said sweetly, “no running away it is then, okay?”

  I just stared at them.

  “Good,” he said as though I had agreed with him. “Inside now, and I'll see you tomorrow.”

  I went inside. He restored the ward and left.

  He took the brandy with him

  #

  Anyone who has suffered prolonged periods of inactivity will know how the time passed. Pacing, talking to myself, trying to sleep and failing, sweating, shaking, wanting a drink, pacing, breaking things, and so on. I went out onto the balcony. It hurt, like fire in my marrow, and an alarm sounded. The pain faded as soldiers spilled out into the courtyard and looked up. I gave them a cheerful wave and looked about. The view wasn't much but it was better than the four walls behind me.

  The town took up much of it, a spread of buildings of various sizes, none bigger than this one. The streets were busy. Life going on as normal, or as normal as it can be under an occupying army. The bulk of the people had merely exchanged one master for another. The army will have soaked up their goods, taken their food stocks, stolen their treasures, filched their possessions, probably taken their women. Armies do all of that, usually. We had laws about loot, and we did not practice rape. Okay, if a legion were let off the leash they would loot and pillage till they were spent but it didn't happen very often. There would be reason for such retribution even if some of those who suffered it were not part of the decision that caused it. In any case the scene was remarkably ordinary. Beyond the walls lay the enemy encampment and I studied them for a while. There wasn't much to see. The army sprawled over a larger area than the city and they were a fair way away from me. Just movement and stillness mixed together. I left them all too it and went back inside.

  I took my shirt off and tossed it aside. It was soaked in sweat. Lack of booze to an addict causes all sorts of physical reactions. I felt hot but shivered as though cold, for example. My muscles ached and my head throbbed. My mouth tasted foul and I stank of a sick, stale smell that offended me. There was nothing to do about that. I wasn't tired, not in the sense that I needed sleep at least, but I crawled under the eiderdown and tried to sleep. It was a long time coming.

  When the mist swirled and thinned around me I knew what it was, but not where. I couldn't see much. A couple of shafts of light in which dust motes danced. As things cleared I could tell no more than that I was in a large, dusty, empty room. Empty of all but Jocasta She stood in front of me, anxious, her face a picture of concern.

  “Why did you do it?” I said.

  “What?” It wasn't what she had been expecting me to say.

  “Why did you come after me?”

  “Oh, that.” She frowned prettily, looking down. When she looked up she had made some kind of decision, her expression was challenging. “When you were courting my sister I was jealous.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Of course that's not all! Really, Sumto, do you think we should be talking about this now?”

  “Yes. Why did you come after me?”

  “It wasn't just jealousy. You talked to her. I liked the way you talked, what you talked about. She didn't understand. I'm afraid my sister is a bit foolish. But I understood, and I liked what I heard.”

  I tried to remember. I can't have said much of importance. It was only one year we visited together, strictly chaperoned. “What, specifically?”

  “You talked about truth. How all beauty comes from truth and all ugliness from lies.”

  I remembered now. I had been pretentiously attempting to form my own philosophy. We do not use religion. The fact that we have souls is undisputed fact. But getting sense out of a spirit was like having a conversation with yourself. They turn your own ideas back on you as thoug
h deliberately forcing you to understand life, not what comes after it. Perhaps that was exactly what they were doing. In any case, without religion, and knowing that there is an afterlife, what is left as most important is a philosophy validating life itself. Leave the unknowable for when you experience it. I had not found any of the philosophies I had read satisfying, so I had set about developing my own. Truth seemed a good place to start. Facts, actually. Well, I had been talking to a girl so beauty must have crept into the philosophy for her benefit.

  “I was a boy. The truth can be ugly.”

  She sighed. “I know that, Sumto, I am not a fool and I wish you would give me some credit. I knew you were wrong, but I also thought you were right, And it got me thinking, and also thinking about the kind of man I wanted for myself. One who valued truth, I reasoned, would at least not try and enslave me with lies.”

  It was a phrase I could have used and I said so.

  She nodded, smiling. “Good. Now, can we talk about how to get you out of there?”

  “No. So you decided that I was the kind of man you wanted so you had better come get me?”

  “Basically, yes. Done embarrassing me now?”

  I smiled. I liked her. Well, I always had but now I saw why. “I'm glad, though I think you have made a bit of a bad bargain. Throwing away your place in society for someone who may not live to continue life as a bad drunk.”

  For a second I thought she would slap me, but that would be pointless of course. “Stop it. You are better than that. You will find a way or I will find a way, and with your reputation what matters it that mine is in tatters?”

  I grinned. “Not much,” I agreed.

  “That's what I thought. Now, how are we going to get you free?”

  “Did you think about illusory spell forms?”

  “What are you talking about now?”

  I sighed in exasperation, running my hand over my face. “I told you about this.”

  “What's that?”

  “What?”

  She pointed to my forehead, coming closer. “In your forehead? What is it? A stone?”

  “Yes. Mine or yours. They can use it to find me. And there are dogs; enhanced. I can hear them when they growl or bark or howl, but otherwise I forget it's there.”

  “It's mine,” she said. “Can you use it?”

  “Does it matter? Now, about illusory spell forms. I told you. It was an idea I had. Pay attention,” she was still looking at my forehead. “Spirits can see them and...”

  I snapped awake. Someone was standing over me, shaking me. I slapped them away and sat up.

  “Awake now? Good.” Larner had stepped back from the bed. “So, about teaching. Ready to start? I can't wait to find out what you know. Maybe learn a thing or two. I must admit I was surprised to be told you had your own loupe. Never would have thought it. With your reputation I suspected you were a waster; an idle, drunken waster at that. But all the time you were learning. What college?”

  “Go away.” I told him.

  “Well, I could, I suppose. But I brought you a present.” He pulled a hip flask out of his pocket and waved it enticingly just out of reach. “Want some? Just a sip in here but better than nothing, eh? Now tell me something useful and you can have a drop...”

  I refused. He talked some more, pressing me. I got angry, impatient for him to go and leave me alone. Eventually he did and I was left to my miserable, drink-free existence.

  #

  Thinking was difficult. Well, no. Thinking was easy, my brain would not stop, but concentration and focus were entirely lacking from the process. My mind jumped from one memory to the next, to wanting a drink, to hating my captives, to hating my father, to resenting myself for putting myself in this position. Settling on anything concrete and using reason to move forward was impossible, yet something good came of the day. Remembering Jocasta's question I cast a cantrip, removing foreign matter from my teeth. It worked. So I had eight useless cantrips up my sleeve, and clean teeth. Wonderful. I didn't know a single useful spell and the stone in my forehead was no good for much more than what little I did know. There was no doubt about it, my father was right. I was useless.

  #

  The last person I expected to step into the room was Sapphire. I'd been having problems with illusions but I knew the difference. They sneaked into your awareness out of the corner of your eye, and turned into something innocuous like a pen when you focused on them. I had not looked up at the sharp cries and thumps outside my door. I had not been able to muster the interest. But Sapphire was large as life and bold as brass. He had my attention just by existing. There was a vitality about him that glowed brighter than a bonfire. He moved quickly but without seeming to hurry. Wearing just a pair of trousers and holding a knife, he turned and shut the door behind him. His body was a mass of cuts and bruises, some of them days old. As he walked toward me I could see through the spattering of blood on his face that his nose had been broken recently, a day or two ago I judged. His eyes were blackened, his lip split, he had a gash on his cheek that had scabbed over, part of one ear was missing. He was smiling and I could see that a couple of teeth had been pulled.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Playing,” he said cheerfully. “If they want me they had best know what they are getting, right?”

  I had no idea how to respond to that.

  He crossed the room, heading for the balcony.

  “Did you escape?” It was a stupid question.

  “Not yet. You coming?”

  I pointed to the stone in my forehead. “They can follow me.”

  He nodded once, dismissing the matter of my company entirely. It was plain, like the decision was written on his face. It was the most animated I had ever seen him. He looked like he was enjoying himself, a boy playing at chase. I wondered if the world had always been mad and I had just never noticed.

  “If I see anyone who needs to know I'll tell them,” he said.

  I was on my feet. I'd been lying on the bed when he appeared and had stayed there but that just didn't seem right. I was dizzy and walking was hard. He was hurt yet moved like a panther on the prowl.

  “What are you trying to achieve?”

  “Good question,” he tossed over his shoulder as he passed out of sight. “What are you trying to achieve?”

  Nothing.

  I followed him, stopping short of the ward. He had not triggered it and so I had learned something. The ward was keyed to the stone in my head. Only I would trigger it.

  He turned around and looked up. A shout came from the courtyard below. He'd been seen.

  “How long will you stay free?”

  He grinned. “We'll see.”

  He started to climb the wall, moving easily.

  “Good luck,” I said.

  “Luck has nothing to do with it. They had better send bigger groups of men or I'll kill them all and we will take our ease for a while and then walk out of here at our leisure!”

  I stood there a moment, shaking my head. He sounded like he believed it. A second later he was out of sight. I considered walking out onto the balcony. Good idea? Bad idea? It would trigger the alarm, they had already seen him, some of the soldiers would come at the alarm. It might help. With a shrug I walked through fire and out onto the balcony. I barely winced and all of a sudden I understood. The pain didn't matter. Sapphire had it. Knew it. And now I did. I smiled. It was a revelation. I was tempted to climb after him but I was still shaky. They had taken to feeding me, but not much, and my body was in rebellion for booze. I was nauseous most of the time. I forced the food down and often as not threw it back up again. I was too weak to climb. I'd fall for sure. But if it hadn't been for that I would have followed, laughing at the pain just as he was.

  The guards were already in the courtyard when the alarm went off. Some were heading for the doors and hesitated, turned back and looked up. Mission accomplished, I gave them a cheery wave and went back inside. I'd thought of something else I cou
ld do.

  I crossed the room fast, slipped into the hallway and glanced about. Two barbarian guards lay dead in the hall. There was some blood but I wasn't looking to see how they had died. One had a knife still in the sheath. There were the sounds of running feet and shouts coming closer. Fast as I could, I snatched the knife and slipped back into my room. They would assume Sapphire had taken the knife, I was sure.

  Now, where to hide it?

  #

  The army was on the move.

  I was out on the balcony. I'd got in the habit of going out there and the guards had gotten used to it. They still rushed out but not with the same air of expectation. It irritated them. It hurt but I didn't care anymore. They always waited till I went in, and I guess they went back to their other duties as soon as I was out of sight. Maybe just waiting for me to trigger the alarm, who knew? Who cared?

  The sweat was evaporating in a cool breeze, chilling me. I was in hell. I needed a drink and there was none.

  It had taken a while before I noticed the army. The guards were entertaining me well enough for a minute or so. Then I looked up to take in the view, and there they were, silent from this distance, slowly drifting away from me, thirty thousand or more men passing before the town. I looked to the right, found the head of the march after a moment. They were heading south, heading off to another battle. Heading for the Kingdom of Wherrel and whoever was coming north to meet them. I wondered what had happened to Orthand. Was he still alive? Was his army still in the field or had it been crushed already? Were his mages in captivity here? Or were they elsewhere? Or still fighting? I shrugged. It didn't matter to me right now and there was no sense speculating. I looked left.

  For a second I didn't know what I was seeing, then I did. Another army was coming up behind them, easily as many men again. The north had risen. Who knew how far the unrest spread? There were more tribes to the east, and the kingdom of Rancik to the west. That kingdom had been free of our influence for the last century or so but we were on good terms as these things are measured. We had an ambassador there and they had one in the city. There was trading, peaceful borders. Our roads ran through their country and onward to others in the north west. There were no problems, but I wondered if the Necromancers' ambitions of subversion ran so far that they had Turned the king, or his barons to ferment civil war. Who knew what they were capable of?