The King's Defense

by Shawn Robert Smith

  “What do we have here?” A sinister voice spoke behind her. Linette turned around slowly with her hands raised. Her lip quivered when she saw him. He held a dark sphere in each hand. Dark didn’t begin to describe them. The spheres filled her with dread. Sweat soaked her clothes, she both heard and felt her heart pumping like a blacksmith pounded metal on her chest. When she looked at the spheres, she saw the vastness of the night sky but felt the restraint of being buried ten feet underground. Had she not relieved herself minutes ago, she’d have done so now.

  Past the Decayed, she saw Markus and Winthrop peak from behind a tree. She gave away their position. He turned and shot both spheres towards them, hitting a large pine tree. Its circumference of a few feet decayed to nothing, causing the tree to fall over. Markus and Winthrop ran, signaling their hideout each time they appeared between trees.

  He turned back and Linette saw his face for the first time. It made her want to cough, like inhaling smoke. A white sphere the size of a child hit the Decayed from above, forcing him to collapse against the ground. Two throwing knives found their way into his chest. His chest moved up and down in a rhythmic motion but began to jump erratically until it stopped.

  “I told you not to follow me,” Knilin said as he landed in silence, releasing his magic. He quickly leaned against a tree, huffing and puffing like he’d just sprinted for an hour.

  “I had to see one for myself,” Linette said.

  “Do you believe the Decayed are playing games? He could have killed you.”

  “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  “Let’s see what we can find. Markus, Winthrop, you can come out now,” Knilin yelled.

  They poked their heads out from behind a tree, checking for danger. They approached and looked at the dead body.

  “Do you think there are others?” Winthrop asked.

  “No, but keep alert. Use your ears and nose.”

  “What now?”

  Knilin stretched and knelt by the Decayed. “We check for anything that might help us figure out what they are trying to accomplish. Markus, hand me that stick.” He pointed to a dry, stiff twig that looked like it broke off a tree some time ago. He used it to open up the cloak and poked around where the pockets would sit. He found another twig and used both to pull out a piece of parchment. “Don’t touch it. The Decayed write notes on a piece of parchment and then cause it to decay. If any of us touch it, it’ll disintegrate. These dead pieces of wood won’t because they have no life to them anymore.”

  Linette watched Knilin attempt to open the folded paper using the two sticks. He struggled to open it, tearing it one spot. “Help me sit up the Decayed, Markus,” Linette said.

  “I don’t want to touch him,” Markus stepped back, breaking a stick where his foot landed. He jumped back.

  Winthrop grabbed the Decayed underneath his shoulders and lifted. Linette moved between Winthrop and the body and put her arms around him. With her hugging him from the back, she slipped her hands into the gloves the Decayed wore, her hands on top of his. His skin felt loose and cold. She shuttered.

  “Bring the parchment to me, Knilin.”

  He looked up, a smile drawing on his face. He placed it in one of the Decayed’s hands using the two twigs and Linette opened the folded sheet, guiding the dead fingers.

  “Nice trick. I’ll have to keep that in mind next time,” Knilin said.

  Once opened, she tried to read it. To her, the note contained gibberish.

  “Can you read it, Knilin?” Linette asked.

  “Yes.” Knilin looked at the parchment and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

  “What does it say?” Markus asked.

  “Listen closely. We need to get this news to the Council of Light. It commands him to kill the King if their hired assassin is unsuccessful.”

  Linette covered her mouth as she gasped. Then, realizing she’d just touched the Decayed’s gloved hands to her mouth, pulled her hands out rapidly and dropped the parchment. She tried to catch it, but when she did, it turned to ash and the pieces floated to the floor.

  “Sorry,” she squeaked.

  “Don’t fret, we know what it said. I’ll need to eat to replenish my energy. Let’s eat our provisions and go.”

  He formed a bright sphere and threw it at the Decayed. The magic picked up the body and floated it alongside them as they walked back to their initial camp.

  “If we need a Decayed to help us unleash that ability, why don’t we stop testing for it? Let’s eradicate the rest of the Decayed and move on with our lives,” Markus said.

  “The Council tests you at the earliest age you can discover your ability to wield magic. If we skipped the test altogether, you’d discover it on your own around the time you turned twenty,” Knilin responded.

  “Oh, never mind, then.”

  “We haven’t been attacked by the Decayed in ten years. Some would say not since we recovered Mapleglen,” Knilin said as he glanced at Winthrop.

  “You’re talking about my father. When he saved Cordun from the Decayed.”

  “Yes, most in the Kingdom refuse to believe the Decayed attacked that village. Others believe it’s only the beginning—that the Decayed grow stronger each day. Regardless what people think, I need to inform the Council of Light.”

  Linette knew Pinemere should invest in an amanuensis—a device that allowed communications between cities. Pinemere lacked the resources to purchase one. With that, they could have informed the King about Atwix and Zyadrin earlier.

  “Why do you think they attacked yesterday?” Linette asked.

  “I think it served a few different purposes. First, they almost freed Atwix. Had we allowed him to keep all his fingers, I doubt I’d have survived. Second, it’ll strike fear into the Kingdom. I think many who deny the Decayed’s rise, do so because they want to keep the people calm. Third, I think they hoped to recruit Winthrop. His father rose to second in command before his demise.”

  Linette saw Winthrop wince. Her father was mean, but at least he wasn’t in the Decayed leadership. Still, his father didn’t beat him every other day.

  “I thought magic wasn’t inherited,” Markus stated.

  Knilin chewed his dried meat. “It’s not, but people like to associate things with their kin. Many a parent wishes their child would excel where they failed.”

  Linette grumbled. She wanted nothing more than to avoid her father. She had no desire to be anything like him.

  “Quiet,” Knilin stated, “I hear voices on the King’s road.”

  Day 2 - Afternoon

  Markus perked up, listening to the voices. White spheres formed in Knilin’s hands and he shot one at each of them. Markus felt like he just took off a full suit of armor after wearing it all day. Knilin motioned to them to stay quiet and to follow him.

  He took slow steps, allowing Knilin to lead the way. Winthrop and Linette followed behind. Knilin crept closer to the road, keeping the trees and foliage between them and the travelers. A group of half a dozen men walked along the road, giving their horses time to recover from a recent trot. Each wore a sword on their back and lacked any insignia that would declare their loyalties. The group from Pinemere approached the bushes closest to the road and listened.

  “How much longer to Claybury?” one of the men asked.

  “We’ll make camp at nightfall. We should arrive tomorrow by noon.”

  They seemed like good, kind folk. Markus knew they’d have to pass them at some point if they stayed on the King’s road. He waited for Knilin to relay his plan. They all squatted side by side behind a bush. Linette sat to his left and Winthrop to his right. He didn’t blame Winthrop for his missed chance at the testing yesterday, but he was mad at him. Why couldn’t they have tested Markus first? At least then, he’d be able to help defend his friends if the Decayed came after them. Markus was ready to join the Order of the Lion and start making his way to top leadership. Knilin rose to the Council of light by the time he turned twenty-seven. Markus knew
he’d make it even faster.

  The men passed. Knilin put a finger to his lips. When the three of them all looked to Knilin, he pulled out a rolled up scroll, tied and sealed with wax. Knilin handed it to Markus, who saw the eagle mark embedded in the wax.

  “I can’t travall the entire distance to Castle Claybury. I’ll stop with enough energy to walk the rest of the way with your assistance. At that point, we’ll seek a wagon to bring us the remaining distance. In case, I pass out or we are attacked, that scroll contains the results of your testing. Give it to the Council of Light when you arrive. Let’s get moving.”

  Then, he brought them out to the King’s road. “We are going to continue travalling. We will pass them with some speed, so keep your arms and legs straight. I don’t think they mean us harm, so we’ll continue on without delay.”

  Knilin formed his spheres and Markus felt like he tripped over. He flayed his arms at first, but then let himself go. He didn’t like not being in control of his descent. They approached the group of men and Knilin split the five of them apart three on one side and two on the other. Winthrop, Knilin, and the Decayed body fell to the right of the men; Linette and Markus to the left.

  “Hey, watch where you’re going!” one of the men yelled.

  “They have Argont. Stop them!” another sputtered.

  Markus looked at the men after they passed. He saw blue sphere’s form and they flew toward him and Knilin.

  “Knilin, watch out!” Markus called. But, Knilin focused on watching their path. A sphere hit him and a bubble formed around him. They kept falling, but Knilin no longer controlled their way. When the road veered a few degrees to the left, they continued straight across a grassy field. The forest remained to their left, but they’d crash eventually. Markus managed to get the attention of Linette, who might use her magic to counteract Knilin’s. He glanced back and forth between her and their constrained pilot, hoping she’d figure it out soon. He considered trying to grab something or finding a tree to land on but remembered Winthrop’s story about Zyadrin’s death. Landing on a tree at this speed would be like falling a hundred feet. Linette fumbled with her hands, trying to form spheres and perform magic.

  He looked to Knilin, who tried to signal with his eyes towards Linette. “She’s trying, Knilin!” He continued to motion in that direction. Markus figured it out and yelled, “Winthrop, use your power to remove this!” Winthrop glanced back with tears in his eyes. Winthrop struggled to form spheres. Markus saw that he tried. Linette formed her own and pushed them on herself, but nothing happened. She continued to no avail.

  Markus checked their path again and saw they headed toward a small section of trees. He tried to encourage Linette and Winthrop, but they tried without success.

  Winthrop formed the smallest of spheres, around the size of an avocado pit, and threw it at Knilin. The bubble distorted some but remained surrounding Knilin. Yet, it proved enough as Knilin stopped their descent. Markus rolled several feet, hitting one of the trees and scraping his arm. It hurt, but he sat upright and inspected his wound. Knilin sat on the ground still surrounded by the Ox magic. Winthrop and Linette somehow managed to land on their feet. The dead body lay a few feet from him.

  “Winthrop, try again. I’ll need you to remove the rest of this.”

  Winthrop struggled to catch his breath. Tears fell down his face. “I’m not sure I can.”

  “Yes, you can. Those men want to hurt us. We need to keep moving.”

  Markus watched Winthrop take a few deeps breaths and then form a blue sphere in his hand. It started at the same size as before, but then grew to the size of a pine cone. He pushed it toward Knilin, releasing him from the bonds.

  “Thanks, Winthrop. You saved all of us.”

  Winthrop smiled and then sat on the ground, breathing hard. Markus had yet to experience the strain of using magic, but he pitied Winthrop. Working in the field hadn’t done much to strengthen him. Markus spent ten hours a day with his dad in the smith, filling out his muscles over the past two years.

  Knilin gave them a few minutes to rest, suggesting they walk back to the King’s road. Markus noted that Knilin looked in a poor state. His face looked pale and his once smooth gait had a more pronounced sway to it. Once on the road, Knilin took a few deep breaths and continued their Travalling. After a few hours, Markus saw the faint image of the Castle in the distance. Claybury castle stood atop a hill, giving it the upper ground over an enemy and also allowing travelers to see it from far away. Several guard towers divided the outer stone walls. He couldn’t see the moat, but it fed into the river that flowed near the King’s road. Behind the outer walls, he noted the keep reached taller than any other structure. Various spires vied to claim the distinction as the second tallest building. The Ouger mountains provided the backdrop and at their peak, the white, snowy tops reflected the last rays of the sun.

  When they halved the distance to the castle, Knilin released the spell and fell down unconscious.

  “Winthrop, Linette, stay with Knilin. I’ll be right back.” Markus jogged ahead and found a trader with a wagon on the side of the road. “Can I trouble you with helping my friend into the castle? He is too exhausted from our journey and we can’t carry him.”

  “Why should I lose sales to help a stranger?” the trader asked.

  “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Hmph.”

  Markus saw that one of the trader’s horses favored one side. He walked over and lifted the bad leg, noticing a broken horseshoe.

  “Leave my horse alone!”

  “If you help, I’ll fix his horseshoe.”

  “How can I trust that you’ll come back?”

  “You have my word…and you can hold onto this as proof I’ll come back.” Markus handed him a hunting knife, the one his father gave to him on his seventeenth birthday. It was worth quite a bit, given the amount of labor his father put into it.

  “Fine, let’s go.” The trader took the knife, closed his wagon, and hitched it to his horses. Markus jumped in next to the trader and then rode to pick up Knilin, Winthrop, Linette, and the Decayed’s body.

  “I don’t want that in my wagon,” the trader told Markus.

  Markus ignored him and pulled the body inside. “Too late. Bring us to the gate.”

  The one horse limped and the other walked steadily as they approached the castle. Markus would repair that horseshoe as soon as he could. The Blacksmith in him needed to fix it.

  Once across the moat and at the castle gate, the guards stopped them. “What’s your business?”

  “I’m dropping off a drunkard,” the trader barked.

  Markus glared at him, “He’s not drunk, just exhausted.” He ran around back, leaving the Decayed on the wagon floor and threw Knilin over his shoulder. He carried him to the guard who took a look at Knilin.

  “It’s Knilin. Grab the stretcher,” the guard called to another. They put him on one and took him away.

  Winthrop and Linette came out from the back of the wagon and spoke with the fore-guard.

  “There’s a Decayed body in the back. Knilin brought him as evidence. He asked that you keep the body in the dungeons,” Markus overheard Linette tell him. Markus saw the guard peak in the wagon and nod at Linette. They left the guard to deal with the body and stood next to Markus.

  “You three, go see the Council of Light and report,” the guard that stood in front of Markus said.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Day 2 - Evening

  Winthrop worried about Knilin. He knew that their journey to Claybury would weaken Knilin, but he looked worse than he expected. Knilin’s encounter with the Decayed seemed to age him by several years. Streaks of gray lined his hair and his skin seemed looser than before.

  He watched as the guards carried Knilin away. “This way,” a guard beckoned them. They entered through the castle gate, which opened wide into the Bailey—the space between the outer walls and the inner walls. Grass grew throughout this area, but only in patch
es as it approached the inner and outer walls. Merchants filled in the space next to the outer walls. The cacophony of voices blended such that he couldn’t pinpoint a specific conversation, but only an incoherent layer of sound. Winthrop assumed sellers inside the outer wall claimed a special status of some sort to sell within the castle’s defenses. He noticed a mix of common folk, nobility, and magic wielders hustling and bustling to where ever they needed to go. Although he and Linette now used magic, they still wore their well-used clothing with its accompanying patches. A few curious looks from those wearing fine garments brought a picture of him, Linette, and Markus to mind. Three poor, young adults with a guard detail would look like criminals on their way to sentencing.

  The guard led them through a second gate, the portcullis hung open above them. A banner was tied across the top of the gate announcing the tenth anniversary of King Luther’s reign. It displayed a picture of a sword and below that said: Observe the presentation of a Ceremonial Sword to our King! Next to that, another smaller banner had the number “3” next to the word Days. The numbered part looked like someone would tear it off the next day to reveal the number two. Linette and Markus never learned their letters, but Winthrop’s mom taught him before she died fighting alongside his dad.

  The inner walls stood two spans higher than the outer gate. Even from Winthrop’s vantage point on the ground, he could see the benefit of having the higher ground. It allowed bowmen to attack outsiders from the inner wall. Once inside, they found themselves in a rectangle courtyard. Grey stone layered the ground. Various structures along the inner wall rose much higher than the wall that surrounded the courtyard. Winthrop’s limited knowledge of castle architecture left him unsure of the purpose of each building, but the tallest building sat unattached from the rest. If the inner wall fell, it was likely the last stand. It was that building into which the guard led them. They climbed two floors of stairs that circled upwards. Winthrop tripped at least three times, noticing that the step heights were irregular. They opened into a short hallway. At the end stood a door at least twice the height of Markus. It glowed a brilliant white and depicted the emblem of the Council of Light: three spheres, each the color of the three orders linked to each other. They walked down the hallway, led by the guard. Windows at every ten paces let in an abundance of light. The three of them remained quiet. The journey and encounter with those men had exhausted him. He spared a glance at Linette and Markus. He saw determination in Linette’s face and Markus kept his back straight and his chest puffed out. Not even his face showed signs of weariness.