The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight

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The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight Page 26

by Donald Allen Kirch


  While Jatel was going through his own hell, the men of the Argo prepared to enter theirs. Each did what he could.

  "Whatever you provide, sir, will be appreciated." Rohan was busy assembling new arrows for his bow.

  Again, Keeth noticed the dwarf giving Rohan a curious stare.

  "It is my intent to help you along with all that I have," the wizard promised.

  Both elf and dwarf shook their heads in praise.

  "I offer my sword up!"

  All eyes turned to En-Don, who, dressed in his mother's armor, looked the part of a knight-errant.

  The bow of the ship filled with controlled laughter.

  "What do you know of war, boy?" The sarcasm dripping from Rohan's words was thick.

  En-Don smirked, trying his best to control the hurt flashing across his face. Life and the emotions which came with it were still new to him. To help hide his uncertainty, the young man pulled out his mother's sword and began sharpening its blade.

  "I know nothing of war, elf," En-Don agreed. Anger freighted the young man's voice, but to his credit, he stayed focused upon his blade. "But I know enough about honor to compensate."

  "Well said, sir!" Keeth added. The wizard retreated as fast as he had given his opinion, returning to his little mind puzzle.

  "You have been alive for less than a phase, little man," Rohan rose to his feet. His cold elfin eyes focused unquestionably upon En-Don. "What would you know of honor?"

  "Rohan?"

  "Dear sir?"

  It was obvious to Rohan that his comments did not set well with his other comrades. En-Don was new to the world. That was a fact no one could deny. But to place such faith in an untried being was foolhardy.

  "You question my abilities?" En-Don asked, still not taking his eyes off his mother's blade.

  "I question any child who thinks he can rush into war, just to play at soldiering."

  Dorian grunted and closed his eyes.

  Keeth turned away, paying way too much attention toward his spell-making.

  Rohan realized he had made a mistake.

  En-Don stopped sharpening his blade. "I understand your doubt, sir. But, be assured, that through powers that even I cannot understand, I am quite capable with a blade, and I am no stranger to the arts of war."

  "You barely understand the concept of the color blue, let alone the taking of another's life." The elf's features turned hard.

  En-Don rose from his seat.

  "Now, fellas, let's not do anything hasty!" Dorian stated. Worry and concern clearly projected from the dwarf's face. "Rohan, remember, we are these people's guests. It is not our right to cause more havoc than havoc can do on its own."

  The elf's face remained as cold and mysterious as it always had. However, upon one private moment, Dorian saw Rohan give him a quick glance, and then, quite slowly, quite calmly, the elf winked at him.

  The dwarf relaxed.

  He understood.

  "War is very serious business, my boy." Rohan continued, glancing up into En-Don's challenging stature. "I have no stock in those who talk bravery while never having tasted from its vineyards."

  En-Don's face turned hard.

  "Perhaps I could learn something from the winemaster?"

  Subtly, Rohan started to smirk.

  "Come, young one! Let us stomp some grapes."

  Both men took out their swords.

  "Show me!" Rohan challenged.

  The elf took up the high ground on deck. That was the first thing En-Don had observed. He did not know how he knew, but he did seem to know that was a bad thing.

  "I do not wish to hurt you, Rohan."

  "Pain is life, my friend."

  "Then, we shall have at it!"

  En-Don rushed forward, slamming his mother's blade into that of the elf's.

  Rohan closed his eyes, and prepared himself fully for the force of the blow. No fool himself, he knew, just by En-Don's size, that the force of his attack would be a respectable one. As their swords made contact, the elf was startled - he slid back a good foothold!

  "How am I doing so far?" En-Don inquired.

  "Fair," Rohan barely whispered.

  En-Don knew that he had knocked the wind from his friend, but some unknown knowledge told him not to count upon such a thing. There was a certain flinch growing upon the elf's right cheek that seemed to speak volumes to the boy.

  Suddenly, Rohan's eyes blazed open.

  "Oh, oh," was all En-Don could bring himself to say.

  The elf ducked down, barely being missed by En-Don's counter attack. Rushing forward, Rohan kicked at En-Don's knees, knocking the young man to the deck. En-Don had only one move - perform the Illium thrust guard.

  "Giving up?" Rohan gloated. The elf's breathing showed his fatigue. "So soon?"

  "Idoshiansdo not give up, Rohan."

  The elf raised his blade.

  En-Don took action.

  The young man instantly went toward the ground, rocking his body in a counter-clockwise maneuver. As he hit midpoint, he switched his sword to his weaker hand. In doing this, the blade became reversed - its sharp end facing En-Don.

  "Be careful not to kill the child, Rohan," Dorian shouted.

  Rohan looked toward the dwarf.

  En-Don saw his chance.

  In a lightening flash of steel, En-Don jumped to his feet, swinging his sword to stop just near the elf's main arteries in his neck. If En-Don had not turned his mother's sword, he would have successfully beheaded the elf.

  "Hold!" Rohan shouted. The elf's eyes were wide and concentrated quite hard upon the shaking blade at his neck. "You have won the day."

  En-Don relaxed. He bowed his head in respect to the elf's own skill. Rohan was not an easy warrior to beat.

  "Will the wine master concede that I am from a good vintage?"

  "I concede," Rohan stated, wiping sweat from his brow. "That magic, like science, seems to have its own system of justice"

  "What do you mean?" En-Don's eyes turned hard.

  "Since your mother cannot use her skills, trapped in the body of a woman, what better justice is there, than allowing her magical offspring the ability to protect himself from the physical?"

  "Well said!" Keeth added.

  Dorian rushed to his friend's aid, handing Rohan a cup of water and a small rag with which to refresh himself. There was an urgency in the dwarf's actions which showed all, especially Rohan, that Dorian was greatly concerned.

  "Do not think less of yourself, elf," Dorian said, his face gleaming with pride. "You did well. As you stated, En-Don is of magical beginnings."

  "Many thanks, dwarf."

  Again, En-Don and Rohan stood toe-to-toe.

  "En-Don, son of Jatel and Ka-Ron, I would be honored to fight at your side, should such a time arise."

  Both shook hands.

  "This is a good thing." the wizard meekly said. In his joy, Keeth knocked Dorian to the deck and patted the small dwarf on the back.

  "Dear wizard!" Dorian yelled, finding it quite difficult to wobble his way back to a good footing.

  Everyone helped Dorian up.

  None were able to keep a straight face.

  En-Don beamed with pride.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Ka-Ron found that she could not concentrate. From time to time, she kept looking back up toward the Argo, deeply concerned. Her whole body was in silent rebellion. This was all wrong! She could not explain why she felt this way. All the knight could understand was that she did not like leaving her son behind.

  "He is in good hands, Ka-Ron," Jatel whispered.

  "I know," Ka-Ron stated, but her eyes clearly held within them the silent pain of separation. "I just don't like leaving him with&her."

  "We will be back before you know it, sire."

  All this while still traveling down the Argo's gangplank.

  The knight's fears were silently reinforced with friendly pats on the back by Keeth, Rohan, and Dorian. All could sense her inner pain and frustration
, and to an extent, Ka-Ron was starting to understand Kai's pain. Her leaving En-Don alone with a practical stranger was something she had to do if she were to help Jatel out of his situation, but still, the pain was there.

  "I fear he will miss us, Jatel."

  "Naturally." the squire agreed. "Life causes these separations so that we may learn to treasure the times we are together."

  Ka-Ron smiled upon hearing her squire's words.

  "When did you become such a philosopher?"

  "When I became a father."

  Ka-Ron embraced his friend and lover, side-hugging him.

  When choosing a place to land, Keeth could not have picked a more foreboding or interesting place. The Argo was deep within a bog. Swampy waters had caused the ship to sink almost to normal hull level, if the ship were in floating mode. However, the Argo's landing pods were fully extended, and due to the soft muddy surface, had slowly sunk to what appeared to be normal seagoing conditions.

  Around the course of the bog, between the many rotting corpses of animals and unfortunate travelers, amongst the moldy tree trunks, weeds, and fungi, there appeared to be remnants of a once vital civilization. Little did these new arrivals realize they had parked in the middle of what used to be the royal sailing pond of Mull Garden. These bogs used to be the main waterways between this dead kingdom and the rest of the Nown world.

  Crumbling granite walls, long overgrown and forgotten, peeked out every so often, reminding all here that there used to be "something." And nothing was more interesting or depressing as the reminder that things do fall apart, if given the time and opportunity to do so.

  In the distance, near the kingdom's horizon, there existed a graveyard of ancient ships. Some appeared new, or at least, only a couple hundred seasons old. Most were mere skeletons of their former selves&old, rotting, with the smell of death all around them&floating in water so dank and dreadful that even the native fish refused to dwell there.

  "Keeth," Ka-Ron asked, noticing the ancient fleet, "what are those?"

  The wizard followed the knight's pointing finger.

  Upon noticing the graveyard of ships, the wizard immediately turned away from it. He shook with a fear rarely seen my one who practices magic and science.

  "That is the lost fleet," Keeth whispered, hoping not to catch attention.

  "The lost fleet?" Rohan repeated. "And, may I ask, why are they lost?"

  "It is a good thing to fight away evil," Keeth tried to explain. "It is a bad thing to do it only for personal gain. Those ships carried an army of sailors once employed by a visiting prince who wanted to obtain Mull Garden."

  "What became of them?" Jatel asked. His gaze focused on the graveyard.

  "It ended badly for them, young squire," Keeth explained.

  "Legend has it that Count Voslow was responsible," Dorian added. The dwarf was using his ax to hack away at the brush in the way. "He cursed them all upon their mortal deaths, to remain forever at their posts, waiting for the day when he would release them."

  "You mean that they all still live in their ships?" Ka-Ron asked.

  "No," Keeth explained. "Nothing alive is still there. Imagine, dying, and never being allowed to rest. No, brave knight, there are things in this universe far worse than death."

  "Agreed!" the dwarf said, cutting down a huge bloodthorn bush. As the unfortunate tree splashed down into the gray waters of the bog, a small colony of dung beetles scattered, swimming away to parts unknown.

  Keeth paused, raising a cautious hand into the air.

  "Behold! Mull Garden."

  The ancient castle peered down at the advancing party with an awareness that seemed to attack all of them to their core. The unnatural green tint of the stones which composed the makings of the main fortress is what had originally given the structure its name. It had once been an important crossway for several of the ancient Nown cities, providing a place of commerce and rest for both king and peasant. It had also been a stronghold of freedom, for during the time of The Coughing it was held by those who defended the living from the dying.

  All this is one building.

  Now, nothing but death.

  A light blinked to life inside the castle. In one of its many towers - no one had ever lived long enough to count all of them - a bright candlelight beamed outward, as if to acknowledge its arriving guests.

  "Something" was aware!

  "Is that supposed to happen, wizard?" Rohan asked, nervously reaching back toward his quiver of arrows.

  Keeth tried to respond, but his own curiosity, mixed with the instinct to survive, caused him to remain mute.

  The front gates of the castle slowly, loudly, and quite unexpectedly rattled, separated, and then opened.

  "Wizard?" both Ka-Ron and Jatel asked in unison.

  A figure soon stood at the gate, waiting.

  "It appears that we are expected," Keeth surmised. His voice belied the calm appearance of his features.

  Rohan's hand grabbed for an arrow.

  Dorian held more tightly to his ax.

  Both Jatel and Ka-Ron moved closer toward each other.

  Nothing happened.

  The figure continued to wait, with its hands clasped in front.

  ***

  Count Voslow studied the small group of people approaching his castle. He was well aware of the wizard. He paid considerable attention towards the elf and his bow. The dwarf was of little consequence, but&

  Who is this magical creature?

  The group walked up the drawbridge of Mull Garden expecting all hell to break loose. The Count laughed at their surprise - the honest surprise of prepared warriors coming in contact with the forces of "nothing."

  Voslow could not but be amused.

  Rude as it was, the sound carried.

  "What is so damned funny?" the vampire heard the dwarf whisper. Dwarfs were courageous if not stupid creatures.

  The wizard took his place as head of the group. As they all approached, Voslow laughed louder. He had seen and experienced much in his long life. He could not understand, even at his age, how with each and every season, the "hunting parties" which always came, wanting to destroy him, seemed to grow more and more pathetic.

  Voslow's eyes scanned the body of the approaching female.

  The vampire cleared his throat.

  "So you have come to kill me," Voslow stated, bowing to his guests. "This is a good thing. I have had such little practice at being dead."

  The wizard and all his party stopped their walking. The Count got such amusement at playing with the direct approach. This was something he would have to save for later suns, when future "hunting parties" decided to pay another visit.

  "Ahhhhh, greetings," the wizard said, being uneasy. As an afterthought, the old man bowed to the Count.

  Such an idiot.

  Voslow's stare could not seem to break away from the curious eyes of the woman. She was quite beautiful&more so than Voslow had ever seen. There was an unknown force flowing from this female that the vampire found both odd and new. He tried to ignore her, but her lovely features seemed to call after him.

  Voslow bowed, inviting all in with a steady sweep of his hand.

  ***

  Molly bit at her right thumbnail, silently watching En-Don practice at his sword. She studied him as the young man swung his sword over his head, from side to side, over and under each arm, hitting and avoiding moving targets he cleverly had placed on strings and levers. He was both fast and fantastic.

  He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

  Try as she might, the female vampire could not seem to take her eyes off his ass.

  "When mother returns, I hope to show her my improvements," En-Don bragged. In his bragging, the man forgot to take into account a small ball he had placed at the end of a string - it hit him upon the back of the head, bouncing off. En-Don rubbed his head in comical embarrassment.

  Molly said nothing.

  She only stared.

  "Molly?" En-Don
asked, turning to face her.

  The vampire looked up, startled.

  "Yes?" she asked, jittery. "What's wrong?"

  "What were you studying?" En-Don asked.

  Molly could not seem to bring herself to look En-Don in the eyes. She felt as she had as a child, when her mother had walked into her room, catching the young woman doing things best left in the private places of one's life. Still, these things and feelings were normal. Why should one feel so guilty? Why should one feel so ashamed?

  "I was keeping an eye on your&rhythm." at the last, Molly could do nothing but smile.

  "Oh?" En-Don asked, moving closer. "Is that important?"

  "Without rhythm, all else is folly."

  En-Don gave his head a satisfactory shake. "Then I thank you for your tutelage, Molly."

  The vampire held tight to her urge to strike. She wanted this man more than any craving she had ever encountered. Her needs even seemed to go beyond her curse. All her desires were female. All her wants were indeed those of the living.

  "You may continue," En-Don stated, getting back to his studies.

  Molly's eyes continued.

  What kept her from attacking? Fear and common sense.

  "His mother would kill me," the vampire mused. "It would break the trust her friends have in me."

  There was also the fact that En-Don was only a couple of suns old. In reality, if he were born of normal circumstances, this man she coveted would be a swaddling babe. How could one attack such innocence?

  "How could one deny himself so much?"

  Molly moved forward.

  She would worry about En-Don's parents later.

  "En-Don?" Molly stated, loosening a couple of snaps on her blouse.

  "Yes, Molly?" The young man's eyes were both curious and open.

  The young woman fidgeted with her long red hair, and found herself blinking her eyes. If she were not under his spell, Molly would have laughed if it had been any other woman. Love was not a thing to be toyed with in such a manner. She knew that. However, at the moment, Molly was not thinking with her mind. Her concentration erupted two sticks lower.

  "What do you think of my blouse?"

 

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