The Crooked Knight (The Path of Zaan Book 2)

by C. K. Rieke

  Tilda sat cross-legged and her back was straight. Her blond braids laid across her tattoo of the sword, dragon, and anvil that crept out of her sleeve. “He’s okay, he’s a big man.”

  “Okay, everyone has had their fun, feel free to move the conversation along at any time you wish,” Astor said, his emerald-green eyes peered at the statue of Gildur. “What does that mean at the bottom? What does it say . . . Per u sorv . . . ?”

  “It says, ‘Per u sorvū de Ojiin eí sun alles’. It means ‘for his service to Ojiin and his friends,’ in an old language, Palanzal had to dictate it himself,” Tilda said, as the three of them looked up at the statue. The sun sat behind the slab of white stone, framing it in a nice golden light. The statue had Gildur in a pose that seemed iconic and timeless. He held his sword up on his back, across his shoulders, and he stood as straight as an oak. His beard was angular and his eyes peered up to the heavens.

  “It is a nice representation,” Astor said. As he said that, footsteps came up from the stairway below, and long, elegant black hairs danced in the wind as Zelestiana strode easily up the steep stairs.

  “Zelestiana, come sit with us,” Tilda said, making room for her friend, who was easily a head taller than her.

  “Thank you,” she said, as she sat between Tilda and Astor, her back as straight as a taught bow string. Astor held out a glass of wine for her, which she politely declined with a subtle motion of her hand.

  “Well, what do you think of it?” Tilda asked her.

  “It fails to capture his aura,” she replied. “But any replication would.”

  “Yes, he was a great man. I miss him dearly,” Tilda responded.

  “We all do,” Astor said. “I wonder if Wollen has found anything of the witch Angela Dragus the Righteous?” It’s thought she died in the battle with Gildur, but there wasn’t a body to prove it.

  “I pray he only finds her ashes,” Gogenanth said.

  “That would help ease his soul I would hope, seeing as he lost his partner Xersha in the fight,” Zelestiana said.

  “Poor Xersha,” Tilda said. “That was the most horrific thing I have ever seen.” She covered her eyes, and Astor put his arm around her. “I would have done things differently if I were there again, fighting that monster.”

  “Don’t think like that, Tilda. We all did what we could,” Astor said. “We were just lucky to have won against Reizenthrōgz.”

  “Yes, the fact that you slew the Great Northern Ogre is quite incredible,” Zelestiana said to Gogenanth. “That ogre had killed for close to one-hundred years.”

  “Thanks to Zaan,” Gogenanth said.

  “Yes, thanks to Zaan,” Astor agreed, and finished the last sip of his wine.

  “So what’s next?” Tilda asked. “Where do we go from here?”

  “Ironically, that is why I came here just now, Tilda. Palanzal and Elindrill have decided who would be best fitted to work with the young girl. They wish for you to train Lily and help her find her Azulūz,” Zelestiana said.

  “Oh,” Tilda said. “Hmm, I’ve never trained anyone here before. I wonder why they chose me?”

  “They chose you because you will be a great teacher,” Astor said.

  “That is a great honor,” Gogenanth said.

  “And what about Zaan and Gar? What are Palanzal and Elindrill thinking about for the two boys?” Tilda asked Zelestiana.

  “They will continue to learn and grow. Someday they will both become great warriors. Zaan may even have a statue here one day, next to Gildur’s.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE cracking and roaring of dark flames was deafening in the empty mountain-scape, which was shrouded in blood-red clouds.

  A figure in long, red robes crawled her way up the smoky mountain, her fingernails chipped and brittle. As she clawed at the stone, a nail broke off completely, and blood poured onto the ash-laden rocks. The woman approached a clearing from the jagged stones, and she slowly lifted her head as the heavy wind whipped her hair into her face. Her face was leathery and weathered. Lines sat where once warm skin tones had been. The cheekbones of a once great beauty had sunken to folds of skin. She separated her dry, cracked lips and spoke, “Take me with you.”

  Xelex, the Crooked Knight, turned to acknowledge her. He stood tall, but askew. His red eyes of flame peered out of his bright-silver helmet. “You know that is not the wish of our Master,” he said in a low, broken voice. Xelex wore silver-plated armor, his bare arms were riddled with veins, and he carried a mighty, sharp black ax.

  “I need this, Xelex. I need to return to my world. I can’t stay here. This isn’t what I thought it would be. Take me with you.” She got up to her knees and grabbed at the black cape at the feet of Xelex. “I need to go back to my lands.”

  The knight stood there, and looked down at the woman. “Look at you, Angela Dragus the Righteous. You have become a worm, and nothing more. You will stay here and pay for your sins.” He turned his back to her, and looked up at the peak of the jagged mountain before them. “Our Lord Armoz wishes retribution upon the infidels, and I will give this to Him. You failed Him by not bringing him Zaan Talabard or Lily Furling, and He does not give second chances.”

  “Please, Xelex, let me speak with Him. He will give me a second chance. I am the true believer. I will kill the boy Zaan and his friends. Their blood will stain the lands from sea to sea,” Angela groveled and cried, as hot winds gusted up from the lower regions of the mountain.

  The ground began to shake and crack. Angela Dragus the Righteous shrieked and moaned, and the Crooked Knight Xelex knelt on a knee, “Armoz, my King.” Angela Dragus the Righteous sunk to the ground and bowed as low as she could.

  Before them, as tall and dark as a burnt fur tree stood Armoz, the Devil King. His skin was pale and wrinkled, his robes were the color of black ash, and his long beard was as sharp as broken shards of obsidian. The pupils in his eyes were a dull-white spark, yet when he spoke, they were engulfed in blinding white flames.

  “The time has come, my champion,” Armoz said, and the echoes of his voice rang all around them.

  Xelex stood and held his broad ax in one hand to his side, his black leathery cape flew behind him. “What do you wish of me, my Lord?” Angela Dragus the Righteous lifted her eyes to see Xelex standing in the shadow of Armoz.

  “It is time to show these mortals what it means to defy Me,” Armoz said.

  “I will bring death upon them,” Xelex said, a slight hiss came from voice.

  “Yes,” Armoz said, enjoying Xelex’s words. “In time, yes. Yet now, my prize is much larger than a few deaths.”

  “I do not understand,” Xelex said.

  “You will be accompanied by another— and his pets,” Armoz said, with an insidious smirk.

  Xelex looked above, as a large winged creature flew directly above him, so forcefully it nearly washed Angela Dragus the Righteous clear from the surface of the mountain. From behind, came a figure in tanned, torn rags. One of his eyes was black with bright reds and yellows, and he had scars along his tan skin. Xelex looked back up at his Master. “Your wish is my command.”

  The man walked up to the side of Xelex and gave a loud whistle that rang throughout the air and echoed in the distance. The loud snarls and roars of beasts called back from the gloom.

  Angela Dragus the Righteous clung to the rocks and tried to remain a speck on the ground, unnoticed. Her lips cracked as she opened them and whispered to herself, “Riverend.”

  PART II

  Unveiling

  the Shroud

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  LILACS had begun to bloom in the cracks of the stones of Barrier Cliff. The sun glistened on the early-morning dew, making the city look like it had the stripes of a zebra. Zaan and Lily made their way towards the tallest tower of the city, Mäezer Palanzal’s Tower.

  “What do you expect they want to see us for?” Lily asked, as her short blond curls caught the golden hue of
the rising sun.

  “Not sure. Probably an evaluation or something,” Zaan replied. His black hair had grown longer and now almost hit his shoulders. He had regained his proper weight over the winter with stewed meats and too many late nights at Folk’s Inn with Gar.

  “I’m supposed to start seeing my trainer soon, so maybe it has to do with that,” Lily said, her voice was polite, yet Zaan sensed hidden sadness in there too.

  “You know, if you ever want to talk about anything, I’d listen,” Zaan said.

  “Thanks,” she replied simply.

  “I’ve been through kind of a lot. Definitely not as much as you, but I don’t think I will ever be the same,” Zaan said. “It’s hard to see things like I used to, like I can’t go back to who I was, or how happy I used to be in my small world. If that makes sense.” He was looking out at the rising sun over the Rion sea. “Does it . . . make sense?”

  “Yes, that makes perfect sense. If you don’t mind though, let’s talk about something else.” She gave a forced smile.

  “So, you are going to start training soon. That’s great news. I wonder who it will be with.”

  “I’m curious, about that, and about the Azulūz itself. The thought of something in me I don’t know about is scary. The only real magic I’ve seen is what happened when Gildur . . .” She sunk her head.

  “Hey.” Zaan walked in front of her, and they both stood there in the middle of the road, the warm sun framed them in silhouette. “It’s not like that. Here . . . Let me show you something. Hold your hand out.”

  Zaan closed his eyes and slowly opened them as they illuminated a dull blue light. He looked down at the ground, and her gaze followed. A single lilac began to glow blue, and then it started to subtly shake. It floated angelically up to her outstretched hand and fell into it. The blue hue dissipated and the weight of the flower fell into her palm.

  There was a silence in the air, and Zaan eagerly awaited some kind of response.

  “That was . . .” Lily began, “so cheesy.” She giggled.

  Zaan’s face tried to hide his complete embarrassment.

  “But, it was quite magnificent. Thank you for showing me that,” Lily said, and put her hand on his. She continued walking up to Palanzal’s Tower with the lilac still in hand. Zaan followed behind with a wide grin.

  ***

  The door to Palanzal’s study widened. Lily entered first, and Zaan followed. There stood Palanzal behind his elaborately-polished mahogany desk. He wore long golden robes of silk, and his beard was neatly trimmed. He peered through his thick glasses and rustled his gray eyebrows.

  “Welcome, welcome, please sit, children. Well, I guess I shouldn’t call you children. Regardless, please come. I made some tea,” Mäezer Palanzal said. The two entered and sat at his desk. He took a seat after. The room smelled of exotic, pungent plants like that of a dense forest.

  He sat and fidgeted with some papers on his desk, then he laid them neatly in a stack. Putting his elbows on the table, he looked into their eyes, and he had a large grin across his face. There they sat for what seemed like a few seconds too long.

  Lily shuffled in her seat. “How are you Headmaster Palanzal?”

  He sat in his seat and drew a deep breath. “Yes, yes, everything is dandy.” He sat with his back straight and shoulders stiff. “Now that you are here, do you know why?”

  Lily and Zaan looked at each other. “An evaluation?” Zaan guessed.

  “To a degree, yes.” Palanzal removed his glasses. With them on, he resembled an owl— without them, he looked more like an aged crow. “I brought you both here together because you have become acquaintances from what I hear. Lily, I brought Zaan up here months ago and introduced him to his trainer. As you know, he is with Zelestiana . . . to a great deal of success if I do say.”

  He winked at Zaan, “So we are here to introduce you to who will be training you over the next few months. Although, she could not be here to join us. You will be training with Tilda Hildenbred the Tangier.”

  Lily’s face lit up in excitement. “Yes!”

  Zaan looked away, trying to hide the confusion on his face.

  “I’m delighted you are so delighted,” Palanzal said with a wide smile, showing his yellowing teeth. “Do you have any idea how your Azulūz works? Any indications of anything strange or different?”

  Lily lowered her head. “No, I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, child, do not be sorry. We have much time to discover your ability. And you are indeed lucky to have such a skilled and experienced teacher.”

  “Yes, sir, I do look forward to working with Tilda.”

  “She wishes for you to meet her on the shore of the Rion tomorrow at sunrise. I trust you will be there, on time.” Palanzal looked over at Zaan, who sank in his seat.

  “Well, if you don’t have anything further for me, my young Lily, I would speak privately with Zaan,” he said more seriously.

  “Yes sir,” Lily said as she quickly stood up and skipped out of the office. “See you later, Zaan.”

  Palanzal shifted in his seat again and sat with his back straight. He placed his tiny glasses on his nose, which resembled a crow’s beak. He shuffled and sifted through the stack of papers on his desk. Zaan felt uneasy, as if he were about to be scolded again for something he didn’t know he’d done.

  “Zaan Talabard the Crusader,” Palanzal said.

  “Yes, Mäezer Palanzal.”

  “Do you have the red stone with you?” Palanzal asked.

  Zaan’s shoulders eased, “Yes.”

  “Good . . . may I see it?”

  Zaan reached into his small pocket on the inside of his vest, held it out, and dropped it into Palanzal’s hand.

  Palanzal held it close to his eye, “Fascinating.”

  Zaan sat in silence while Palanzal thought silently to himself.

  “This stone you carry, Zaan, I can’t find anything tangible that is written about it. Don’t you find that fascinating?” Palanzal asked, not looking at him.

  “It is. Why do you think that is?” he asked.

  “Good question. Well, first off, the obvious: it is very rare. Which makes it valuable. How does it feel to be rich?” Palanzal stated with a subtle laugh.

  “Hmm, I never thought of it like that,” Zaan responded.

  “Secondly, the stone is probably old, very old. Most stones you see are old, older than our minds can comprehend, but this is maybe two or three times as old as any rock you would find washed up on the shoreline; it looks to have been cut and polished. Not something you find buried in a mine,” Palanzal said.

  This partly peeked Zaan’s curiosity. “Anything else?”

  “Yes.” Palanzal placed the stone on the papers and looked deep into Zaan’s eyes. “Someone is after this stone. Someone who does terrible things to people and pays handsomely seeking it. That is the most curious and interesting thing about it.”

  Zaan shivered at the thought of what had been done to the slaves in the black cave all those months ago.

  “When you combine those three things, you have an object that nobody has written anything about, that is ancient, and that is being sought by someone who knows, presumably, a lot about it,” Palanzal said gravely. “Do you understand what I am saying Zaan?”

  Zaan nodded. “Someone badly wants this stone and we know nothing about it.” What I'm not saying is that I feel something with the stone. It isn’t perceivable enough for me to begin to explain it to him, but it is there, something dormant, but powerful. Hearing that people are adamantly searching for it, makes me not want to part with it, even more. I want to be the one to understand what it is.

  “Precisely. This is a person of great means as well.” Palanzal sat back into his leather chair. “That is why I would like to propose something to you.”

  “Yes,” Zaan responded.

  “Since the stone is inherently dangerous, if you were to give it to . . . me, for safe keeping, I bel
ieve I could better protect it. And you would remain safe from danger,” Palanzal stated eloquently and clearly but eagerly waiting for a response.

  Zaan sat back in his seat, thinking over the things the Headmaster of Barrier Cliff had just told him. He looked down at the small red stone the size of a pumpkin seed on Palanzal’s desk. He had found it. Regardless of its value, it was his.

  “If it’s alright with you, Headmaster, I’ll hold onto it. I’ll be fine,” Zaan said, sitting back up in his seat. His palms began to sweat onto the wooden handles of the chair.

  Palanzal’s brow furrowed and then perked back up. “Yes, of course, my boy.” He held the stone out for Zaan. “I am only thinking of your safety, but it is yours to keep if you wish.” He dropped the stone into Zaan’s hand.

  “Anything else, Headmaster?”

  “No, that will be all.”

  “Let me know if you discover any new information on the stone,” Zaan said, and opened the doors of Palanzal’s office, and walked out. He shut the door behind him, and looked into the stone through the beams of sunlight throughout the tower. He slipped it back into this pocket and left the tower, smiling in the warm spring sun.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  LILY walked along the shoreline, the sun had yet to peak its light over the cold waves of the Rion. The clouds drifted high in the early morning sky as she removed her shoes and walked in the wet sand. She looked out to the sea that seemed endless, and looked past the walls of Barrier Cliff to see the forest in the distance she loved.

  Her intention was to be early to meet with her new trainer. As she approached, she saw a dark figure with hair blowing in the wind, appearing to be dancing, low in the early-morning light. The figure moved elegantly and swiftly.

  As she got closer, she caught a glimpse of flashing metal circling the dancing figure. She approached cautiously, and once in vocal range yelled out, “Hello?”

  The dancing ended abruptly, and the figure came walking up to Lily, still hidden in shadow. The first fingers of sunlight crept over the sea and reflected off the golden braids of Tilda, who sheathed two swords. “You’re early. Good.” When Lily looked up to Tilda, she saw the type of strong woman and fighter she wanted to become.