The Sleeping King

by Cindy Dees

  They all turned to Eben. It fell to him to break the tie. She did not envy him the choice. His best friend or his best friend’s last request.

  CHAPTER

  24

  Raina woke with a heavy heart in the first gray light of dawn. The others seemed equally depressed as they choked down strips of dried meat and erased the signs of their camp preparatory to moving out. She noted that Eben was quietest of all. In the end, he’d honored Kendrick’s request not to chase after him immediately. But to have lost both his sister and his best friend who was like a brother to him … it was a heavy burden to bear. She worried that he still might do something impulsive and draw down their little party by yet another skilled sword it could not afford to lose.

  When she was not fretting about her traveling companions, she fretted about how she was to convince the Boki to let them wake the Mythar. She must find a way to appeal to the Boki’s honor, which they seemed to hold so dear. If only she knew more of their mythology regarding the one they guarded. Mayhap she could find a way to use their own Boki legends to prove it was time to wake the sleeping one.

  The group had promised one another stoutly that, if Kendrick was not back in Dupree waiting for them when they returned, they would come back here and rescue him. She sincerely hoped that was not necessary. She’d liked the landsgrave’s son. Although a bit impetuous, Kendrick had seemed to have a brave and good heart. Much like his father.

  Cicero and Sha’Li took turns erasing the party’s tracks and serving as rear guard as they moved out in the gloom. Most of the time, Will took point, leading the way. Or rather, Bloodroot’s spirit led the way, unerringly finding the least difficult path through the increasingly rugged terrain.

  How much longer Will could go on like this was anybody’s guess. Raina’s training suggested that he should already be dead. She could only assume that some combination of her magic and Rosana’s, Bloodroot’s stubbornness, and Will’s determination was what kept him going.

  The deeper they journeyed into the Forest of Thorns, the more frequently the front or rear guard signaled for the group to halt and hide. Late in the afternoon, they crouched by a trickle of water sluggishly seeping up out of the ground to drink and refill their water skins. Eben and Cicero slipped away into the woods while the rest of them rested to scout for a spot to bed down.

  Without warning, Eben burst into the little clearing, panting. “We’ve got a problem.” Cupping his hands around his mouth, he let out a caw that sounded like one of the local grackles.

  Raina started at the harsh noise. “What was that for?”

  Sha’Li muttered, “Calling in Cicero.”

  Sure enough, the kindari burst into the clearing at a dead run in a moment, sword drawn. “What’s amiss?” he demanded.

  Eben replied with a single word that struck terror into Will’s heart. “Anton.”

  “How far?” Cicero asked the jann tersely.

  The jann hummed urgently, “Maybe two hundred yards behind us, I spotted a scout. He’ll be working ahead of the main force by a bit. I estimate a half mile to Anton’s main force.”

  Raina looked at her kindari guardian and said in dismay, “I’m going to have to run again, aren’t I?”

  The elf nodded grimly. She groaned under her breath as she shouldered her pack and tucked her skirt up around her knees. If Anton caught her, at best he would send her home to her mother and the Mages of Alchizzadon. At worst, the governor would make her his slave. She’d heard Eben and Kendrick muttering about how Anton fed women love potions and then engaged in lascivious orgies with his love slaves. She shuddered at the thought and panic beat at her ribs.

  The good news was that an army was not likely to move fast in terrain this rough. Cicero set off at a steady jog that had Raina chomping with impatience to go faster. But the wisdom of the kindari’s pace was evident when they were still jogging along an hour later. The elf finally called a halt when full dark made the forest floor totally impossible to see. She was grateful to stop tripping and stumbling every few strides.

  The group huddled together over the napkin Rosana unfolded. It held the last of the calorie-dense cheese bread they brought with them. She tore off big hunks of it and passed them around. Raina approved of Rosana’s decision to feed everyone well. This was no night to be stingy with sustenance. They’d been going a day, a night, and another day with only a few hours of rest.

  Cicero spoke quietly. “I’d suggest we sleep for a few hours, and then move on. We’ll need all the head start we can get on Anton if we’re to stay ahead of him.”

  Eben nodded grimly. “From what I make of the man, he’ll move fast and drive his troops mercilessly. Patience is, mmm, not his greatest virtue.”

  Wry humor hung in the air from the obvious and unspoken retort to that comment: Anton Constantine has virtues?

  Rosana burst out, “What does that snake want out here?”

  The kindari shrugged. “Don’t know and don’t care. I just don’t want to get caught by the viper.”

  Raina fervently agreed with that sentiment. For all she knew, her mother and the mages had already reported her missing to the Imperial Army. And for all intents and purposes in Dupree, Anton Constantine was the Empire.

  She passed the last of her healing into Will and then hunkered down in her bedroll in the cold and dark, the night sounds even more ominous than usual. Every twig snapping or leaf rustling made her heart jump with trepidation. She napped, but it seemed like she’d just closed her eyes when Rosana gently shook her awake.

  Every time she woke up, she felt miserable. The amount of healing she was doing on Will and Bloodroot was straining her mind’s and body’s abilities to recover. She did her best not to complain, but each day she felt weaker as her magic grew stronger. She consoled herself with the fact that Will undoubtedly felt much worse than she did.

  She eyed the youth surreptitiously as she packed her bedroll and tightened her boots. Will staggered through each day seeming not to care much where Bloodroot led them all. She only wished their journey would end soon. Before they all collapsed of exhaustion and the constant, gnawing fear.

  Cicero issued strange instructions prior to their moving out tonight. Build a fire. Leave signs of a camp. Stoke the embers well.

  “What are you about?” Sha’Li growled, sounding surlier than usual.

  The kindari answered, “If Anton’s soldiers find our camp, they will think it only recently abandoned and believe us much closer than we are.”

  Raina approved of the cunning. What would she have done without her faithful protector? She certainly never would have made it this far. Not once had he complained of the hardships helping her had brought him, nor had he once mentioned compensation of any kind for his service. All she could pay him with was her friendship, and that she gave the kindari without reserve.

  The group got into the spirit of deception immediately, laying out hasty beds of boughs and pine needles to indicate that they’d slept in this place. Then, moving carefully, and with their countertrackers meticulously erasing their trail, they slipped out of the clearing. When Cicero judged them well clear of the camp, they moved out more quickly.

  Night travel was slow and hard going. But better that than death at Anton’s hands or in an Imperial slave galley, however.

  Raina pondered whether or not Anton was hunting them, specifically. Their little party could not possibly be that important to him. Surely Anton had not gotten wind of what they sought.

  In her more grim moments, she wondered if it was possible that Anton was out here for the same reason they were? To find the Sleeping King? Although, as he was the Emperor’s man, Anton’s goal would no doubt be to destroy this supposed king and any threat he might pose to Maximillian.

  Or mayhap Anton was merely looking for a fight. Stars knew, the Boki would give him one.

  Night became morn and morn became day, and still they trekked onward. It was moving toward sunset and everyone was staggering with exhaustion wh
en Eben threw up a fist ahead of them, signaling frantically for all of them to get down. Raina, almost too numb to comprehend the signal, stumbled, stared stupidly for a moment, and belatedly dived behind the nearest clump of brambles. Now what?

  Silence settled around her and her companions. Too much silence. Whoever came this way would sense their presence in the absence of chirps and clicks and random noises of the woods. Worried, she caught Will’s apprehensive gaze and pointed at her ear.

  He frowned for a moment and then nodded in sudden comprehension. She watched as he laid his hands upon the ground and closed his eyes in concentration.

  She didn’t fully understand who Bloodroot was, but unquestionably the spirit was deeply connected to nature. Will’s face went even grayer and more haggard as the spirit within him encouraged the creatures of the wood to resume their normal chorus. In a few moments the usual buzzings and chirpings resumed.

  Raina sagged in relief. As soon as she got within reach of Will, though, she was going to have to pour a bunch of healing into him and his disk. He looked terrible after the effort of allowing the tree spirit to function through him like that.

  They were never going to get out of this mess alive.

  * * *

  Will panted, each breath painful. Regaining control of his mind after relinquishing it to Bloodroot like that was almost more effort than he could manage. But Raina had been right. If the forest went silent around them they were all dead.

  It was no more than a minute after the crickets and frogs started singing once more when abrupt silence cut through the forest. This time it was not of their doing. His senses shot onto high alert. He smelled them first. He would never forget that effluvia of rotting meat.

  Orcs.

  The Boki patrol came into sight, four of them, moving in casual but nonetheless vigilant formation. They moved like creatures on their home turf, not expecting trouble. But then, all of a sudden, the one in front’s heavy-jowled head swung up sharply, an upthrusting tusk glinting. He lifted his lumpy green face to the wisp of breeze and took a long, loud sniff. He grunted something that sounded suspiciously like “hoo-mans.”

  Dregs. Will gripped his sword more tightly and thought fiercely, I don’t care if these are your people or not, Bloodroot. If they kill me, they kill you. Stay out of my way if this comes to a fight. An inarticulate snort in his head was all he got back.

  The other Boki stopped and sniffed as well. After a spate of urgent grunts two of them wheeled around and headed back to the north from whence they came. The other two sprinted south, straight at Will and the others, hidden in the underbrush. He tensed, readying himself to meet the charge. He would take the leader. Will was ready to spring out and face his foe. A dozen more strides and the orc would be within weapon range. A half dozen. Three strides. Two.

  And then the orc barreled past, not even slowing down as he passed Will’s hiding place. Both of the Boki pounded on by, charging south and disappearing from sight within a few tense seconds.

  What on Urth was that all about?

  Will and the others crouched in their hiding places, holding their positions for several minutes, awaiting the possible return of either group of Boki. But gradually the sounds of the forest resumed around them—and without any help from Bloodroot. The party crept out of hiding and huddled together, and the others looked fully as perplexed as Will felt.

  Eben spoke first. “The two who went north were going back to warn their tribe. The others went south, following the scent of humans.”

  Cicero nodded. “Anton’s army. The orcs must’ve picked up the scent of the larger party of humans behind us. It probably masked our scent, or at least mingled with it such that they didn’t realize we were right here.”

  Raina laughed under her breath. “Who’d have ever guessed I’d be thrilled to have a squad of the Haelan legion on my tail?”

  Cicero replied grimly, “Oh, it is no mere squad. It is a full battalion if I don’t miss my guess.”

  Will turned on the kindari in dismay. “How do you figure that?”

  “Animals flee before large parties of humans much like they would before a wildfire. Based on the number and type of displaced creatures I’ve seen moving through the woods, I can estimate the size of the force and its direction of movement.”

  It was the sort of logic Adrick would have used. Will thought back also to his father’s endless lectures about historic battles of old. If Anton was out here to confront the Boki, a line of battle would emerge where the two forces met and clashed. Their little party needed to move out of the way and not end up caught between the two armies as they charged headlong toward each other.

  And in the meantime, they still had to find the remains of the Great Circle … wherever they might be hiding. But they’d also had practically no sleep in two days, and they were all exhausted.

  Will spoke quietly. “I think we need to find a good hiding place and get some real sleep. There are about to be two armies running around out here, and it’s going to take all of our skill and strength to avoid them both.”

  The others agreed, and if he was not mistaken, looks of relief passed around. Cicero told them to stay put while he looked for a likely spot. He returned in a little while and led them into an area of chokingly thick, nearly impassable underbrush. The going was painfully slow, for they dared not leave even a single thread behind to mark their passage through the thick brambles. But, by the time full night had fallen, they had made a cold camp, ranging their bedrolls in a tight defensive circle under cover of a stand of thorny holly bushes with thick evergreen leaves that made a dense cover over and around them.

  It was dangerous to stop like this, but they had no choice. Not one of them had the strength to go on. Raina had poured a massive amount of magic into Will around sunset, which made him feel marginally better, but she’d been stumbling along in utter exhaustion ever since. Maybe if Kendrick had been here and given them some stirring speech of courage and perseverance it might have convinced them to find a way to press on. Will had never expected to miss the young noble, but Kendrick had grown on him over time. Their attacker had no doubt killed Kendrick by now and Hyland’s son had already resurrected in Dupree. His father would be exasperated, but Kendrick was probably sitting in a pub right now hoisting an ale and flirting with a barmaid while the rest of them ran for their lives out here.

  But without Kendrick’s boundless energy to inspire them, the party members could not muster the energy to do aught but close their eyes and pass out.

  * * *

  Leland’s breath hitched as a scout burst into the command tent, panting. Clearly, the soldier had news of their quarry. With all his being, Leland wished to avoid the battle to come. Krugar, in the middle of his daily report, fell silent. Anton ordered imperiously, “Speak, scout.”

  “They’ve been spotted again. Due north of our position and on the run.”

  On the run? Boki didn’t run. Ever. They stood and fought their enemies. And usually won, of course. Who, then, did Anton have his scouts tracking? Horror exploded in Leland’s chest. Surely not the very party he and Aurelius had sent forth into these woods. My son.

  “What of the Boki?” Leland asked the scout.

  “Sign, but no sightings, my lord.”

  “Who, then, did you see?” Leland asked as blandly as he possibly could. Meanwhile panic clogged his throat.

  The Kithmar scout’s nose twitched, and his yellow-eyed gaze darted to Anton and back.

  It was all the answer Leland needed. Helpless fury washed over him. Even Anton knew Leland would fall on his own sword before he would kill his own son and Kendrick’s companions. But forcing Leland to actually choose between family and duty—Anton always had been a master at finding and twisting the knife in a man’s gut.

  Anton answered casually, “While we’re hunting greenskins, we might as well take out some bandits and outlaws while we’re at it. Put a bounty on a renegade and these cats suddenly turn into fine trackers.”


  The Kithmar scout growled in eager anticipation. Leland couldn’t tell if the creature was lusting harder for blood or gold. But the avid greed in the rakasha’s feline eyes worried Leland. A lot.

  Once, he’d been the adventurer on the run, simultaneously fleeing Anton’s forces and racing toward glory. Once, he and his comrades had been young and eager, sure that they were fated to save the world from the Kothite scourge. If only he were Kendrick’s age again—

  Wishing would not make it so. Leland had had his shot at glory. It was time to move aside for the next generation of heroes. But knowing it did not make his heart yearn any less for the thrill of the chase, the taste of glory on his tongue, the clash of battle in his ears.

  Truth be told, his son and the others faced an even more difficult challenge than Leland had before. For one thing, the force chasing him thirty years ago had worn Imperial Army colors and been constrained to a certain degree of civilized behavior. But this bunch that Anton had hired … Leland barely stopped his lip from curling in disgust. The good governor had dug to the very bottom of the midden pile of humanity to come up with these Kithmar rogues, brigands, and outright assassins he’d brought with him into the Forest of Thorns.

  Worse, at the governor’s order, nobody wore uniforms or colors of any kind, not even Anton himself, thereby negating what few rules existed for honorable behavior in combat. How Anton had gotten wind of Tiberius’s boy, Leland’s own son, and a young arch-mage on a quest Leland had no idea. Eben was excitable, but could handle himself in a fight. And the girl’s kindari watchdog seemed to have a level head on his shoulders. The inexperienced gypsy girl could be a liability, but at least she wore Heart colors. That could prove useful. They’d be all right … but the assurance rang hollow in his own ears. Five against an army of five hundred? Particularly this five hundred? And that was assuming Anton didn’t have more mercenaries that he didn’t know about lying in wait in the woods.