Leviathan's King (The Search for the Brights Book 3)

by Aaron Thomas

  As he sat watching the wind with his eyes closed, he noticed the strength of the wind was slowing increasing. Slowly, he crossed his bow on his lap, pushing one end into Auburn’s shoulder. After giving two slow, small pushes with the bow, she stirred awake and rubbed her eyes. She sat up and rubbed her cold arms.

  “Small storm must be coming in. The wind is picking up,” Bowie said with a hint of fear in his voice.

  He watched as the chaotic wind magic swirled around Auburn’s form, she gave a small nod.

  “I’ll make sure the horses are tied down and get a tent ready. Should we wake Bastion?” She asked.

  Bowie shook his head, “I don’t see how waking him would do us any good. See to the tent, and I’ll stoke the fire.”

  Bowie tossed three more small logs on the fire as he tried to keep an eye out for any movement. The firelight began to cascade the surrounding surfaces and sent shadows dancing among the swamp’s trees. Auburn stood near her horse as she fidgeted with some of the straps. He knew she was keeping herself close to her bow.

  With the rustle of the leaves and Bowie tossing logs on the fire, Bastion stirred and finally sat up. Having no sense of danger, he simply asked, “What’s going on?”

  Bowie gave a small shrug of his shoulders as he started to walk around the camp, keeping his back to the fire. The swirling wind seemed to be coming from mostly one direction as the fire’s smoke pushed away from the swamp. Bowie watched the trees that guarded the city within started to bend and creak as they opened a path.

  With a burst of flame, a light emanated from the newly made path. Bowie raised his bow in anticipation.

  “It’s Dorian,” A voice called out. “You can put your bow down. I’ve come to talk.”

  Bowie held his aim, “Why all the theatrics with the trees and the wind?”

  The flame coming from the forest that hid Dorian’s voice grew to ten feet high, revealing a mass of people walking where there should have been water.

  “We are using a bit of wind to keep the water and creatures away as we move out of the swamp,” Dorian replied.

  Bowie slowly lowered the bow as Dorian led a group of people out of the swamp. They exited in two rows, the lines extending beyond Bowie’s view back into the swamp.

  “You’re going to help us?” Bowie asked.

  The flame died down as Dorian came into the firelight of their small camp.

  “I didn’t say we would be joining you. I said we’re moving out of the swamp. After you came to us and filled out the knowledge I had gained over the last few years, we decided it was best to come out of hiding. The swamp protects us, but also keeps us from knowing the troubles of the world. Sooner or later those troubles will find us,” Dorian said, taking a seat.

  Bastion was already fervently writing notes in his book as he watched the long line of people start moving around the campfire. Auburn had disappeared into a nearby field with her bow and quiver. Bowie slowly let the tension off his string and sat down across from Dorian.

  “So you’re coming out, but not helping fight the soul wizard?” Bowie asked.

  “I didn’t say we weren’t fighting. Let me explain,” He said, turning towards Bowie. “This small group will be going with you to Leviathan. Another group starts to build a city here for the rest of our people. The group traveling with you will go, gain more information, and decide whether or not to join in this fight.”

  “How many are in the group here?” Bowie asked.

  “I'll be traveling with you back to Leviathan with around two hundred wizards and roughly one hundred and fifty others. All of these that travel with me volunteered for this dangerous journey,” Dorian said.

  “The only thing dangerous about this journey is someone making you mad. Two hundred wizards will topple the scales of this battle,” Bowie said.

  “I am not saying we will join this battle. We are simply learning more about the world around us.”

  It was the only answer Bowie was going to get for now. It was not the one he wanted, but he would take it.

  “When do you want to leave?” Bowie asked.

  “We’ll be ready first thing in the morning,” Dorian said, propping his head on the log where Auburn’s had lain only minutes before.

  Chapter 20 - Banquet

  Three knocks at the door echoed through the spacious room as Kilen watched the bay out his window. He watched as the ships in the harbor slowly sailed in and out of the brown water and into the blue. His gaze was caught upon the few pirate ships docked in the harbor. He only remembered small glimpses of his last encounter with a pirate ship as it sailed on top of the land, chasing him. He wondered if one of these ships were present that day.

  “Here are some fresh clothes for dinner, Majesty,” Erica said while hanging the clothes on a divider.

  “How long until dinner, Erica?” Kilen asked while he walked to the screen.

  “It will be in one hour. Councilmen Parker said that he would be by in a few moments to answer any questions you had. Will there be anything else?” She asked.

  “No. Thank you again, Erica. We’ll hopefully be headed home soon, and you can start serving my wife,” Kilen said, starting to look over the blue silk jacket and highly polished boots laid out for him.

  Erica curtsied and left the room. Kilen quietly removed his clothes and donned the set of fine clothing. The shirt was soft and light against his skin which made up for the unused and stiff boots. He bent his legs and felt the pants pull tight around the joints. The boots creaked as he forced their form to crease and bend. He was sure that he would have blisters by the end of the night.

  A couple of light knocks on the door drew his attention. Brent slipped in the door and closed it behind him. Something was on the councilman's mind, but he didn’t voice his concerns to Kilen. Instead, he picked up the newly polished sword belt and slipped it around Kilen’s waist. Brent mumbled to himself and held out Kilen’s three mark blade from where Kilen had laid it.

  “Where’s the crown?” Brent asked, looking around.

  “It’s in the satchel in the wardrobe,” Kilen said, pointing.

  It didn’t take Brent long to polish it with his own silk robe and place it atop Kilen’s head. The weight of it felt strange to Kilen, and it was always uncomfortable no matter how he positioned it.

  “Good. That will do well,” Brent said.

  “So less than an hour to prepare for my meeting with Lord Burnholt. Anything else you can teach me?” Kilen asked.

  Brent seemed to come out of his thoughts and stared at Kilen a moment, “I’m sorry, I’ve been so consumed in thought I forgot to mention you won’t see him tonight.”

  “Won’t see him? I thought that was the point of the dinner.”

  “Yes, it was. Or it was the point in offering dinner and we accepted, which was unexpected for him. So, no. Lord Burnholt won’t be at dinner. A moment ago I saw a servant walking down the hall with a covered tray and bottle of wine,” Brent said as if it was supposed to mean something.

  Kilen waited for more explanation, but none came.

  “So how do you know that he won’t be coming?” Kilen finally asked.

  “The covered tray. I sent it here as a gift from my father a few years ago. It’s made of the finest steel with gold and platinum inlays. Lord Burnholt wrote back a few months later saying it was an item truly fit for a king. If this tray isn’t being served to you, then it is certainly being served to him,” Brent said.

  “So why don’t we just go and talk to him then,” Kilen said, walking towards the door.

  “Wait, we can’t,” Brent caught up to him and placed a hand on the door. “The tray, the dinner, the rooms, and servants, they’re all a part of a game that’s being played here. I’m trying to keep up, but the reasoning is beyond me. I wish my brother were here, he would masterfully walk circles around any game Burnholt was playing.”

  “Okay, so we go to dinner?” Kilen asked.

  Brent took a moment and removed his hand
from the door, “Yes, I think that’s the best way to play this for the time being.”

  Another small knock came from the door, and Leroy entered the room, face to face with Kilen and Brent.

  “Eh, sorry. I was coming to ask if I should make more so Lord Burnholt could eat some of the Kapal dishes I’ve made.” Leroy asked.

  Brent pulled him inside and gave Kilen a smile, “Here is what we’ll do. Leroy, you need to find where Lord Burnholt is eating while Kilen, Kara, and I are at dinner. Find him and as soon as you do, come let us know.”

  “I thought he was supposed to be at dinner?” Leroy said.

  Brent must have been getting frustrated because he snapped at Leroy, “Well, he won’t be. Find him, chase down the gold and platinum lined dinner tray or listen in at chef’s table. You need to find him so we can beat him at his game tonight.”

  “Game?” Leroy asked.

  Brent grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him out the door, “Find him and let us know as soon as you do.”

  Brent closed the door and turned to Kilen, “When we find out where he’s at, we’ll go to him and catch him in as many lies as we can. Until then, we need to remain calm and play his little game.”

  “I am calm,” Kilen said as Brent paced back and forth.

  Brent stopped and gave Kilen a look, righted himself and put on a mask of calm.

  “Let us go find your sister and have some dinner,” Brent said as he took his time slowly opening the door.

  Kilen stepped out into the hallway seeing servants rushing about their duties. Some carried fresh jugs of water or clean clothes. Each looked to be in a hurry and paid no attention to him as they passed. Kilen simply followed the councilmen as Brent led him down the hallway past a few doors and gave one a gentle knock.

  When the door opened Kilen saw the image of his mother step out of the room. Hair as black as a moonless night done up in an intricate weave, letting slip only a single strand over her shoulder. She wore a dress of deep red that left her shoulders bare. She clutched a scarf of the same deep red made of silk with intricate green adornments sewn in. He was sure that she would find someone to dance with if there was any music to be danced too.

  “Shall we?” Kara said, smiling.

  Brent motioned them forward. The main hall of the building wasn’t too far away and as they neared, Kilen could hear stringed instruments being played. When they entered, he saw a woman plucking a harp twice her size. The music was so light that conversations could be heard in whispers as they entered the room. He watched as a hundred people in clothes as fine as his sister’s turned their heads briefly to see them enter. The whispers only stopped long enough for a glance before resuming. Kilen took up his seat at the center of the dias with seats for his council to his right.

  The seat to his left was empty but still had a plate of food set out and a goblet full of wine. Kilen’s plate remained empty until Leroy came to fill it with a Kapal meal. The music continued and no announcements were made, so Kilen started cutting into his roast.

  One of the servants started clearing the plate and wine goblet in the seat to Kilens left. Kilen leaned in, “Will Lord Burnholt be joining us?”

  The servant did not seem surprised that Kilen would ask him a question directly, “I am sorry, Majesty. Lord Burnholt was called away for urgent business.”

  “Strange. If it were so urgent you would think he would need to inform the king of this land instead of leaving me to entertain myself,” Kilen replied before taking a bite.

  Brent smiled and took a bite of the roast before quickly following the meat with a piece of bread. His councilmen only coughed once at the taste of the Kapal spices. Kilen was proud that another person was beginning to tolerate the heat of the dish.

  Some of the guests made their way to the center table, offering greetings and pleasantries just as he started his meal. Another would replace the last as soon as Kilen lifted a piece of food to his mouth so that as they introduced himself, he would have to chew before answering.

  An hour had passed before Kilen finished his plate of cold meat while nobles continued to introduce themselves. Each one should have known that there would be no way for him to remember any of their names at all. Kilen became irritated and attempted to guess at their positions and business endeavors. He comically guessed an artist to be a sheep herder which ended a conversation quickly and a stern look from Brent.

  He deduced that if they were so ready to play games with him, he might as well play some in return. Despite Brent’s stern look, Kilen guessed noblemen to be a fish trader, a dressmaker to be a miner, and another nobleman to be a manure salesmen. Each conversation was ended quickly, allowing him time for an extra bite before the next could make their way to the table. Kilen wished Bowie could have seen it, his friend would have backed up his every guess.

  Playing the small game with the people at dinner, the time passed much more quickly. Kilen watched as Paul seemed to enjoy himself, ignoring the main meal and making his way to the dessert table. The man nibbled on a few pieces of food before finding one he liked and stacked his plate full. Leroy arrived, drawing Kilen’s attention with dessert and a forehead thick with droplets of sweat.

  “I’m sorry, lord. After the main dish, I returned to the kitchen to find the covered dish you asked about already returned,” Leroy said in a whisper that only Kilen and Brent could hear.

  Brent leaned in, “Then why are you sweating?”

  Leroy, between labored breaths, said, “I searched the entire manor between dishes, acting as if I was lost, and found only one door in the entire place that was guarded.”

  A small smile met Brent’s face as the next couple walked up. Brent held up a hand, “The King will take no more partitioners tonight. He grows bored of this dinner and has ordered that he be taken to his room.”

  Kilen tossed his napkin on top of the dessert and walked out without saying anything. Brent motioned for Kara to follow as they walked out of the dining hall. Kilen gave a grin as the music faltered and the conversations reached a higher tone as he was suddenly swept out of the room.

  “This way,” Leroy said as he took a quick pace down the hallway.

  Brent motioned Kara and Kilen along, “Quickly, we must hurry before anyone warns Burnholt.”

  Kara, having no idea what was happening, picked up the hem of her dress and kicked off her shoes to keep pace. Their footsteps echoed in the hallways as servants darted out of the way. They gave no excuses and dashed up two flights of stairs and down a couple hallways.

  “Around the next corner at the end of the hall,” Leroy said in a hushed tone.

  Brent held him back and put a finger to his lips, motioning everyone to be silent. Slipping along the wall, Kilen watched as Brent pulled a small bag from his robe and slipped a small metal chain around his wrist.

  Kilen closed the distance, followed by his sister as they quietly pressed their bodies against the wall close to where the hallway turned. Brent stopped and closed his eyes, clutching the small leather bag. He took a couple long deep breaths as if trying to calm himself and finally resumed his normal breathing.

  Kilen was unsure what he was looking for, but decided to remain still. He held his finger up for his sister to remain quiet. Leroy stood back at the doorway rolling a polished dagger on the back of his hand. One look from Kilen and the dagger disappeared back into his jacket.

  Unexpectedly, Brent’s eyes opened.

  “There’s a guard around the corner, and inside the room. There’s one man sitting at a desk. I would presume this is Lord Burnholt, but I can’t be sure. It’s your call, Majesty,” Brent said in a whisper.

  Kilen gave the nod and walked around the corner at a leisurely pace. The guard straightened at the sight of someone in the remote hallway. Looking directly at Kilen’s head, his eyes started flashing back and forth as if he was looking for help. Quickly, a second guard rounded a distant corner and was met with a water elemental that seeped up out of the floor. Tokeye
didn’t harm the man, just barred his passage further into the hallway.

  Kilen turned to the guard, now standing in front of the doorway as Max rolled tiny bits of sand along the floor until they gathered into the shape of a man. Kilen gave a confident smile after seeing the arrival of his elemental friends.

  “Out of the way, please,” Kilen said, standing with his hands behind his back.

  The guard looked around nervously for help. Licking his lips, he finally spoke, “My lord, I was told no one was to enter this room.”

  Brent’s voice overpowered the man’s as he started to sweat, “This is no lord. You are speaking to the king of this realm, and as such, he will go where he pleases in his lands. Now, step aside.”

  The man swallowed, “I can’t do that, Sire.”

  Kilen felt as though the world slowed down as the man started to move the spear at his side. The guard took a step back moving the spear into a defensive position but was met with Max’s stone hand slamming into his face. The man crumpled on the floor next to the wooden door, blood starting to trickle out of his ear.

  Brent rushed to the man’s side, sliding across the floor in his blue robes. Pouring water magic into the man, he began to sputter and spit out blood. Kilen watched as a single tooth rolled out of the man’s mouth and joined the small pool of blood next to Brent’s knee. The man was breathing and alive, Kilen was glad for that and released the breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

  Seeing the man alive, Kilen pushed open the door, revealing a dimly lit room. Behind a large wooden desk, a man sat holding a quill. The man’s face looked only slightly irritated that he’d been interrupted.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” The man asked.

  Brent rushed into the room and held his hand out to the man as he stood. Brent then turned to Kara and finally to Kilen, “We promised she would introduce you, Majesty.”