The Crooked Knight (The Path of Zaan Book 2)

by C. K. Rieke

  The tower was known as The Tower of New Kings, and at its peak was the throne room of King Manice Mordoth. The jutting high walls of the tower shot up into the sky, and Zaan found it hard to imagine that man could build anything so close to the heavens. It’s smaller towers at each of its corners waved the flag of Dillengrad, a golden crown with a silver shield on a white banner.

  “Back home, they taught us of the line of New Kings here in Dillengrad,” Zaan said. “Supposedly, the lineage of Kings here was broken after the Battle of Dürmant, the destruction of the Castle of Celendrial, and the end of the Olden Age.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard it too. Elindrill told me that the old line of kings was ended by King Asil, who killed anyone who could reproduce, in that family. All because they practiced religion and he believed it to be evil, pretty brutal story,” she said.

  Tilda led Zaan over to the northwest corner of the city. As they got closer to the corner, the stones got noticeably darker, and dirtier. The eyes that watched them as they walked focused harder. There were less smiles and more shadows in the alleyways. She led the way up to a heavy green and black door, with few markings, that was locked from the inside, and she knocked four times.

  The door shot open quickly, a few inches inward. “Yes? Yes?” A raspy voice asked from within.

  “We are here for a room,” Tilda said, trying to look inside the small building. Zaan stood behind her, holding himself up with the thin, twisted iron railing on the steps.

  “Rooms here are for reserved guests only,” the voice hissed out.

  “We were invited,” Tilda said, putting her foot in front of the door, halting its closure. “The Gentry kin should have made the reservation for us.”

  “The Gentrys?” the voice said curiously.

  “Why yes, don’t you have a record? We were told it was made over a month ago,” Tilda said, turning her head and giving a slick smile to Zaan, who gave a sigh of relief, as he hadn’t the strength to walk down another street. They’d traveled too far to be turned away from any sort of place to rest. The door opened and a hunched-over woman in a lace and cotton apron hurried them into the room, eyeing the streets suspiciously as they were let in.

  “Well, we do have one room. I should have remembered, I apologize. I forget things sometimes. Let me show you up to your room.” She looked down at Tilda and Zaan’s feet. “No bags huh?”

  Tilda shook her head. “We travel light.”

  The old woman looked up at Tilda, squinting her eyes to focus at her, and then looked over at Zaan. “Cute couple you make. I remember being that age. You married?” the woman asked as she began walking off towards the room.

  Tilda laughed, “No.”

  Zaan noticed Tilda blush slightly, but she turned her head and walked off after the woman.

  He cleaned the bottoms of his boots off on the entryway mat, and walked after them. As they approached the room. The old woman sorted through her ring of keys, each of them clacked against the next as she went through them one by one. Finally, she inserted one in the door, and opened it for the two of them. “How long will you be staying?” the woman asked.

  “Not long, just a few weeks,” Tilda said.

  “Very well, here is your key. Try not to make too much racket after dark.” She handed Tilda the key, and then began to walk away. This all seems like there’s some arrangement I don’t know about. How did the woman just forget she had a room in such a small place? All I care about though is cleaning my wound, and resting my head on something soft.

  “One more thing, Miss,” Tilda said, and the woman turned back around. “We are trying to . . . get away from things for a while. Would you mind keeping it quiet that we are staying here? We want to escape the normal life a while.” The old woman nodded, and walked off.

  “What was all of that?” Zaan asked.

  Tilda smiled. “This is one of our safe houses.”

  “Smart, I didn’t know.”

  “Yes, Mäezer Palanzal is a bit of an eccentric, but he’s also wise, and was always a bit on the paranoid, and safe, side. This place has been paid up for the next five years,” Tilda said.

  “Thank the heavens,” Zaan said, and all went black as he collapsed onto the floor.

  ***

  That night, he didn’t dream, or he slept so heavily, he didn’t remember them when he woke. He opened his eyes to look up at the dark, stained wood ceiling full of cobwebs drifting in the sunlight peaking in through the thin drapes over the window.

  He looked over to his side to see Tilda sleeping soundly next to him. Looking at her then, as she had cared for him over the last days with his injury— he remembered how he saw her back in Auracity. He remembered watching her with her hammer and anvil working over the anvil, hot sparks shooting from the hot iron in her hands. Thank the gods someone is with me now, at least someone is alive. I owe her for saving my life.

  She slowly shifted her body, and opened her eyes to see Zaan looking at her, and she smiled, but then her smile turned to concern. “Zaan, you look as pale as a ghost.” She sat up suddenly. “I need to find someone to help us. You stay here and rest.”

  As she sat up, Zaan felt her hair tickle his face. It was a nice distraction from constant pain he felt. His shoulder throbbed with his heartbeat, and it felt as if there was a knife sticking into it.

  “You get some rest, and keep it clean,” she said. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Tilda, if I don’t make it-” he coughed, and a shot of pain ran down his arm. “There’s a letter on me, it’s got my family’s names and address on it . . . Would you tell them? Would you tell them everything? I’ve been too worried to, but I think they deserve to know how I went. They don’t deserve to lose another child, and not know why.”

  Tilda went and sat down next to him, and put her hand on his head, it was cool, and covered in sweat. “Zaan, don’t talk like that. We’re going to get you through this. You need to hold on. Now rest, I’m going to go get help.” She stood, the sun was blinding behind her then. Just before she left through the door. “Hold on, Zaan. Just hold on.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  THE group of children walked through the dense forest. Encircling them were their protectors, the elders and the warriors. Zelestiana still scouted ahead, and Astor strode at the rear. Fatigue wore on the children, but especially the elders. Their pace had slowed to a crawl, and worry began to show on the faces of their protectors. Zelestiana now scouted out in a fanning pattern as she grew more concerned of attacks, and she knew they stood little chance of defense against any enemy of moderate sized numbers.

  Zelestiana walked back to the group from her position at front. “Everything okay?” Lily asked, as she strode back.

  “Yes, and no,” she said, and whistled loudly with her two fingers at her lips. Moments later, Astor came sprinting up from behind the group of children, now mostly seated. All of their eyes were on Zelestiana, their protector.

  Astor came up and stood at her side, Gar, Lily and Stave were there as well. Lily noticed that with the way Astor was running, he now showed no signs of injury. “What’s wrong?” Astor asked Zelestiana.

  “This isn’t working. We move too slow. Even with the tree cover on our side, we are highly vulnerable out in the open. We need to revise the plan,” she said.

  Astor stood in contemplation, knowing she was right, but not what to do about it. “You three mind going and getting some firewood so we can feed this people?” he asked the three friends. They looked at each other in confusion.

  “Come on,” Stave said, and motioned with his head for them to go off into the woods.

  As they walked off, Gar asked, “What did they have to talk about that they couldn’t say in front of us?”

  “I don’t know, and may not want to know,” Lily said. “Do we really need to get firewood or was that just an excuse to get us away?”

  “Might as well, nothing else to do,” Gar said, picking up small p
ieces of dry wood for kindling.

  They walked off, further into the woods, until Stave stopped and put his hands up to alert his friends, who stopped in their tracks. He motioned smoothly ahead of them. Gar and Lily squint, standing still, and saw in the distance a herd of deer. At the lead was a type of dear they had never seen, atop her head her not two, but six horns sprouted out in a swath of directions. It was as if sharp tree branches had splintered out from her mighty head, she was as white as snow, and almost twice the size of any other doe in the herd. Gar began to lift his bow, and the white doe at the lead, turned her head to look at him. Lily put her arm up to stop Gar’s motion, and he dropped both hands to his side.

  The three of them stood there, watching the majesty of the creatures stroll through the woods like gentle winds over rolling hills. As quickly as they had appeared, they were gone. They looked ahead into the empty forest, and then they looked back towards the group, which were not in view. “We should go back,” Lily said. The two boys nodded, and they turned to venture back. Then they sensed it. They were not alone any longer. The air felt thick, and there were tiny, short reflections of the sun shooting at them. It blinded them temporarily and made it difficult for them to focus. They drew their swords, and put their backs to one another, struggling to look out into the forest to see what was approaching.

  Nervousness began to create a panic of confusion as they looked around wildly, waiting for something bad to happen, some animal to jump out at them, or some dragon to come swooping in through the trees. Then they heard it.

  “Is that how you would defend yourselves?”

  Lily looked over at her friends in confusion. Gar’s back straightened as he stood up and sheathed his sword. Stave saw him and gave Lily a confused look. Gar smiled and looked out to where the herd had been.

  A wide, muscular man in full plate armor emerged from the tree line. “Is that how I taught you to hold a sword? You looked like a dog holding a bone, scared someone was going to take it away.” Then he laughed out loud in a short burst. Many armored soldiers emerged from the bushes behind him, and they approached the three friends.

  Lily dropped her sword and ran out to embrace the Major. She held onto him as though she had not seen a friend’s face in years. “Well, hello, Lily. Good to see you too.”

  Loud hollers and applause lauded in the air. The children were up on their feet dancing and yelling, and the elders embraced each other with tears of joy. Zelestiana’s eyes sparkled as she saw the shimmering plate armor of her friend Gylem. Astor stood tall and smiled as the Major and his battalion walked to the group. Immediately upon their arrival eight of the soldiers ran into the group of children, and lifted up their offspring in warm, emotional embraces. There were many sobs and excited screams. A few women came in from the group of elders and embraced their husbands. It was that moment that inspired hope in every single one of the people traveling through the forest on that day.

  The Major, after admiring the reunions in the center of the caravan, went up to Zelestiana and Astor. He shook their hands in strong handshakes, showing his white teeth under his thick, red beard. “You truly are a sight fer sore eyes!” he said. He eyed Zelestiana’s expression, and peered at Astor’s injury. “We have a lot to catch up on, don’t we?”

  “Yes, we do,” Zelestiana said with a casual smile. Astor nodded in affirmation, and watched the families reuniting with pure love and affection.

  After that, they broke off into a separate circle, around the fire that Stave was building.

  “Well, where do we start?” Astor asked, sitting down on a tree stump and lifting his hands up to shoulder level.

  The Major cleared his throat loudly as he packed his pipe with a moist tobacco leaf. “We know that we are all here, safe. But, what became of the others?”

  Astor looked over at Zelestiana, and she responded. “Zaan and Tilda escaped into hiding. What became of the Headmaster and Elindrill we do not know, and for Gogenanth and Wollen . . . we assume the worst.”

  The Major let out a disheartening sigh.

  “How did you fare in the battle?” Gar asked the Major and his two soldiers. The two soldiers looked at each other with despair in their eyes.

  “We lost . . . many,” the Major said, putting his pipe down at his side, and exhaling a plume of smoke that floated up into the summer sky. Streaks of sunlight danced through the wafting wisps. “The dragons, they were indeed unnatural. We took a few of the damned beasts down, but, we were overrun. We had to retreat back into the woods. They even picked us off as we ran for the forest. Damned hell-forsaken beasts!” The Major shook his mighty fists at his sides and the fire reflected off his eyes. “I pray for the day of our redemption.”

  “You fought well, my friend, there was little any of us could do against the Dragons of Riverend,” Astor said, trying to console the Major and the soldiers. “What of Riverend? Did you ever see him in the fight? We were preoccupied with the Crooked Knight that was after Zaan.”

  The Major looked over at the soldiers, who thought about it a moment. One of them spoke, “Now that you mention it, there was one dragon that wouldn’t come down from the sky.”

  Then the other one spoke, “Yes, it did appear there was a man riding upon its back. Do you think that could have been Riverend, himself?”

  “Ay,” the Major said.

  They sat there for a few moments, all going through the events in their minds, Stave stoked the fire at the center of their circle. The fire hissed and cracked.

  “It appears we have only a couple of options then,” Zelestiana said, and all eyes went to her. “The first is we try to retake the city.” Subtle sighs came from a few of them. “This is not a likely victory, however. Astor . . .” she said, looking over at her friend.

  “Zelestiana and I have discussed our options for shelter and safety,” he said.

  “Yes?” the Major said, pushing for the answer.

  “These are difficult choices, as none of them are a great fit for our party. It is almost certain that any city would not bid us welcome for fear of the dragons being unleashed upon their cities for harboring the refugees of Barrier Cliff. The most likely towns, in our opinion, that would accept us, and hide us, are . . . Tarluus, and Holdenbrook.”

  The Major gave a sour expression when Astor said the name Tarluus. “Not even the Devil himself could make me send these people, and children, to Tarluus. That damned city is the scourge of all things holy.”

  “Calm yourself, Gylem. The only reason that is an option is because they are so corrupt. We could possibly barter and pay our way into the city,” Astor said.

  “No, no damn way that is on the table,” the Major said firmly.

  “What about Holdenbrook?” Lily asked from the side of the fire.

  “Holdenbrook may accept us, because they are farmers who care for their families, and are akin to hardship,” Astor said, and watched as the Major nodded his head in agreement with these statements. “However, they are a superstitious lot, and they do not have strong walls to deter any amount of attack, let alone dragons.”

  The group sat quietly for a moment. Then the Major said, “What about Dillengrad, Auracity, even Vallenhalen for pity’s sake?”

  Zelestiana glanced at the Major. “You know very well, none of the three cities of kings would let us into their gates. There’s a strong chance we would all be charged for practicing religion, and sent to the gallows.”

  The Major sat back in acceptance, but spiteful of the truth. “Yet, we very well can’t have this lot in the forest another month, waiting for those dragons to fly back to where they came from. I’m in it for Holdenbrook.”

  “I’m leaning towards Tarluus. There’s a higher likelihood of them letting us in, and we can stay safe as a group, in our numbers. It’s even possible they don’t have slave trading there anymore, after what happened to Yemes and Franco,” Astor said.

  The Major and Astor looked over at Zelestiana, who looke
d deep in thought. “We will camp here for tonight, at dawn, we will head out for Holdenbrook and pray for the sympathy and compassion of their men and women.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  IT took the refugees of Barrier Cliff twelve days to reach the town of Holdenbrook. By foot it would have taken Astor less than a week, if he had the audacity to climb the high peaks of the Cascades south of Barrier Cliff, and into the den of the mountain wolves again. So, they kept to the ground and the foothills, weaving in and out of the paths of the great peaks reaching up into the heavens. All things considered, Astor thought the group was making good time.

  The party finally had reached it, the town of Holdenbrook. As they emerged from the rocky outskirts of the last reaches of the mountains behind them, they entered the lightly wooded outcrops, and stood in the shade. There they gathered, all of them, and the Major motioned for everyone to make camp, hopefully a brief one. As the Major looked out towards the humble town, he noticed thin wafts of smoke floating up into the air, he would have thought little of it, but he knew the smell of war.

  Approaching carefully the town slowly, Zelestiana, Astor, and the Major held their weapons firmly in their hands. They walked the long way around to the front gate, as to make a proper entrance, and not cause alarm to any of the inhabitants. They came to the front gate, which still stood hinged and secure, albeit open.

  They walked in to find the town’s streets desolate, not a single person occupied the normally chaotic market streets. “This is discouraging,” Astor said. “The last time I was here, this was a colorful, wild place.”

  The Major took a step forward, and Zelestiana put a hand on his arm to keep him back, but he kept walking and yelled out, “Hello! Is there anyone here?” He waited for a response, but did not get one immediately, and he grew concerned. “Hello, we are friends, we have come to help.” He looked around, and then saw an elderly man creep his head out from the corner of a door creaking open.