The Dread King: Book One of The Larken Chronicles

by R. L. Poston

  Turning his gaze from Aletha, Larken saw Amanda standing below and to the left of the chairs to represent the Healers. Opposite her, on Henkri’s right, stood Commander Jaris. Continuing to look around as he approached the dais, Larken caught sight of Melona at the side of the room. He guessed from her slumped posture and the dark circles under her eyes, that she had also struggled all night with the demons of worry and doubt. The last words they had shared before he had begun his night’s vigil had been those of hope and assurances. During that time, she had announced breezily that she knew that everything was going to be all right, and she had refused to consider any alternative. Larken knew now that she had not been fully honest about her doubts.

  Larken stopped before the throne. He knelt with one knee on the floor, not touching the first of the three steps that led to the royal dais. The cool of the stone floor eased felt good to him as he waited for King Andreas to bid him to rise. A hush was upon the room. Larken could feel the presence of others and felt the watchfulness of the Elves and Warders throughout the room. He knew that the Elves carried venom-tipped arrows and would use them without hesitation at the first sight of danger to their queen. He also knew that the Warders were equally prepared to protect their king. Larken did not fear the prospect of death. He found comfort in the watchfulness of so many over the good of the kingdom. What he feared was within him, and he knew that the time of confrontation with the unknown was inescapably upon him. His acceptance of this trial had burned away all that was left of the smith’s apprentice. In his place was one who was resolved to battle for the good of the kingdom and who was anxious for the confrontation to begin. Paradoxically, although his stomach was clenched in knots, his mind was still.

  King Andreas was the first to speak. “Larken, you have been summoned to our presence to be Bonded to Blade for the good of Shropanshire, the good of humanity, and the good of this world. How speak you?”

  Larken recognized the formal question from his instructions and, after two strangled attempts to use his voice, responded with the correct form. “King Andreas, Warders, Healers, and members of the High Council, I pledge myself to the good of Shropanshire, the good of mankind, and the good of this world.” Then, without pause, Larken added, “If I cannot fulfill this pledge, I absolve all others of my death and ask for sure quickness in their actions.”

  A shocked murmur went through some of those gathered, but Andreas simply nodded. According to the formula, the Bonding should immediately follow. However, Aletha now spoke in a soft voice whose clarity reached all those present. “Larken, son of Elves, you also have been summoned to be joined into the Fellowship of the Stone. To be one with the Fellowship is to be a part of all.” She paused, then added, “Never before has a human been made part of the Fellowship. To be a part of all may be to leave part of yourself behind. How speak you of this?”

  Larken did not know which of her words were those of ancient ceremony and which were designed especially for him, but he knew that no other human been addressed with these words before. From somewhere within him came the correct response even as the excited buzz of comments from those watching died down. “Queen Aletha, I pledge to you and the Fellowship my being. Let that which cannot be joined no longer be.”

  Another murmur swept the room. Few in the room fully understood either Aletha’s charge or Larken’s response, but all knew that a serious trial was upon Larken. Melona stood at the side with her hands clasped before her. Taz stood beside Melona and was outwardly calm and serene, but Larken knew Taz well enough to interpret her rigid stance as a sign of intense strain and worry. Gahen was poised with his hand upon his Blade in the classic Warder stance of attention. Several of the Healers were quietly conferring with each other. King Andreas turned to Queen Aletha with a question on his face. Queen Aletha simply nodded, and Andreas turned back to the company. “Then let the Bonding proceed,” he ordered.

  Commander Jaris and First Healer Amanda descended the steps and led Larken a few steps further back from the throne. Larken knelt on the floor between them, facing the throne. A massive man, well over seven feet in height and three hundred and fifty pounds in weight, entered from a side door, carrying a cloth-draped object in both arms. Larken recognized the king’s smith from his previous sessions with him, although Larken had never learned his name. Larken’s missing fingers had presented a challenge for the smith in his forging of custom weapons for Larken, but he had provided Larken with weapons that fit both hands equally well. Positioning himself beside Larken, the smith extended his arms and ceremoniously offered the object to the king. King Andreas rose and offered his hand to Queen Aletha. Together they descended the steps to stand in front of Larken and the smith. The smith withdrew the cloth, revealing a scabbarded sword. The scabbard and hilt were etched with the traditional red and black motifs of the Warders, but the hilt contained a large opal set within the hilt and slightly protruding from both sides. The hilt was fashioned so that Larken could handle it either with his right hand or with both hands, but in either case, he would be in contact with the opal.

  Taking the sword and scabbard, the king nodded to the smith, who withdrew to stand behind Larken. It would be the smith’s Talent that would initiate the Bonding of Larken’s Talent to the sword. Larken had asked the smith to use Galren’s old Blade to make Larken’s sword. This had made the smith’s task of tuning it to Talent much easier. In the first part of the Bonding, the smith would complete the tuning of the sword to Larken’s Talent to complete the transformation of the sword to Blade. King Andreas and Queen Aletha would then guide the rest of Larken’s Bonding.

  At the king’s nod, the representatives of the Warders, Healers, Elves, and High Council came to surround the group.

  King Andreas placed the scabbarded sword on the floor in front of Larken. Then he drew his Blade from the jeweled scabbard at his side and held it upright as he concentrated upon it. His Blade began to shine with a brilliant blue light that indicated that a great amount of Talent was flowing through it. Few of the Warders present ever saw their Blades shine with even a small fraction of that brilliance, and no Warder present could call as much Talent at will. Turning his Blade downward, he briefly touched each of Larken’s shoulders and then his bowed head. Then, returning his still-shining Blade to an upright position, he intoned, “If you pledge your service, then present your Blade.”

  At this command, Larken reached to unsheathe his Blade and lifted it horizontally in both hands, presenting it to the king. With one hand, Larken held the naked blade. In the other hand, he held the hilt, his hand being in contact with the opal. Bringing his Blade to rest on Larken’s, Andreas commanded, “Let the Bonding be done.” The Warders around Larken then drew their own Blades and held them outstretched before them. In a normal Bonding, they would concentrate to create a channel for Larken’s Talent to be Bonded to his Blade. The smith, who had created the Blade, would use that channel to tune the Blade to Larken’s Talent. Then, the king would direct the combined energies into a Bonding of Larken’s Talent and dedication to himself, Shropanshire, and the greater good of humanity.

  The addition of the opal to the sword and the presence of the Elves added another dimension. The Elven ceremony was somewhat similar to the Warders’, but resembled more the Healers’ ceremony. The Elven initiate would not only be Bonded to Stone, but also to the community of Elven thought and sharing that they called “the Fellowship.” This added dimension had caused much discussion among the High Council, the Elves, the Healers, and the Warders, but, eventually, it was agreed that the combination of Bonding to Blade and to Stone could be done at the same time. As King Andreas and the smith guided the Bonding to Blade, Queen Aletha guided the Bonding to Stone.

  When the channel opened and Larken’s mind touched Blade and Stone, he experienced for the first time the true magnitude of his Talent. A torrent of power blasted out of the channel that the Warders had opened. It so far exceeded the Talents present that it swept away all attempts at controlling it
. Instead of being channeled and Bonded to the kingdom and the Fellowship, the power ran free, unchallenged by the meager attempts of the Warders, the king, and the Elven queen to confine it.

  Larken was at first swept along by the power and was momentarily lost in the maelstrom of its force. The power was greater than anything he had imagined and brought with it a feeling of omnipotence and glee. For the first time in his life, Larken felt unhindered by doubt and fear. He knew that he could Bond all Talents to him. He knew that all those present were frozen, immobilized by the sudden onslaught of this great power.

  Something within him, however, rebelled against that feeling. That freedom from all concern and fear felt wrong to Larken. Deep within himself, he understood how that freedom would betray those he cared for. He instinctively understood that, if the power gained control, he would never care for others again. They would be beneath his concern. Only his wishes would be of interest to him. So, Larken fought the power that surged within him.

  A struggle raged within him that overwhelmed his awareness of what was happening around him. He did not hear the shouts of those who fell away in pain or the cries of those who lost the struggle to remain conscious. He did not see the few that managed to stay in their places around him. He was engulfed in fighting a power that was trying to take full possession of all that he was. As he struggled with the power, Larken felt the darkness at its source—a darkness that sought to seduce him. It promised him freedom through omnipotent power, but he felt its need to enslave him. It promised him an end to doubt and fear, but he felt its rage and hunger. It promised him control and protection. It sought to enrage him by reminding him of every injustice or taunt he’d ever been subjected to. It promised him revenge and vindication, and Larken knew that the promises could come true.

  Larken knew that, if he gave in to the power and rage that roared through him, there would be no one present who could stand before the combination of Talent, Blade, and Stone that he would wield. But, if he gave in to the darkness, he would be forever changed. The Larken that would emerge from this struggle would be no mere smith’s apprentice. Nevermore would he be only Larken. He would become a part of something more powerful and dangerous than he had ever imagined.

  Larken struggled to find a balance from which to fight. His fear at being seduced was absorbed and used by the power that he tried to resist. The anger with which he struck back became a part of the power that he struck against. His fear and anger both fed it and weakened him. If he gave in to fear and anger or continued to use them as weapons, he would be joined to the darkness, and it would claim him forever.

  The darkness had no name, but it was the antithesis of all that Larken held good. And the power was impossibly alive and hungry. It was gradually absorbing all that was him. He was becoming it. His will and determination were still alive, however, and he fought back with the only weapons that the power could not absorb. He fought with the vows of dedication that he had drilled into his resolve during the night—the words by which he would stand. For the first time, Larken understood how dedication and commitment could be terrible weapons, and with these he fought, refusing to let the power or the darkness turn him into something that he did not will.

  At last, Larken gained a bit of control and felt the power falter before him. That triumph strengthened his belief in his ability to withstand the power, and, with that belief, he pushed back harder on the darkness. From that point, Larken fought a battle of faith and dedication, using them increasingly to deny the seduction of power and freedom. Centering his mind on his dedication to the kingdom and the Elven Fellowship, he was finally able to use the Elven teachings to seal his mind against the seduction of the darkness. Gaining control of the channel of power that flowed through him, the Blade, and the Stone, he willed the channel back to the Blade and Stone. Then, rather than being Bonded by the king, the Warders, and the Elves, Larken Bonded himself to his vows of dedication. He forced the raging river of power to submit to his vows and Bonded himself to his Blade and his Stone. Then he wrapped these vows tightly around the power within him, sealing it with his resolve never to forsake the vows that he had taken. Then, knowing that he had done all he could, Larken released his control and fell into a blackness that had nothing to do with power.

  Chapter 9: The Aftermath

  Sunshine and birdsong woke him. For a moment, Larken forgot that he was no longer a smith’s apprentice. Believing that he was back in the smithy, his stomach telling him that he had overslept and missed breakfast, he lurched up in bed. Instead of finding himself in a narrow bunk in a small plain room behind the forge, he found himself in a high, luxurious bed in a large wood-paneled room. The walls were partially covered with rich tapestries, and the floor was covered with a thick rug. The furniture was old but well suited to the general atmosphere of comfort and stability. A wide window allowed the sunshine and fresh air to enter freely. The room was three times the size of the bunk room he had shared with the other apprentices back in Ox Run.

  Even as he remembered that he was in the castle, Larken was confused by his presence in such a room. His first supposition was that someone had lent a room to him for his convalescence from his experience with Bonding. That supposition was quickly proven false.

  At Larken’s start, Melona arose from a nearby couch and approached quickly. “Don’t be afraid. Everything’s all right.”

  “Where am I?” asked Larken.

  “You’re in your room—the new room that has been assigned to you,” answered Melona. “Remember, you fainted after your Bonding?”

  Larken’s memories were coming back in staccato bursts. He paused as Melona’s explanation began to knit some of the memories together—the final words from his Elven tutors, the preparation for Bonding, the struggle with the power from within him, and the final Bonding that he had forged. Quickly, he touched the Bonds within him and found them secure. He could sense, almost as a part of himself, his Blade and Stone resting in the scabbard hooked over the bedpost near his head. He could also “see” Melona and two other presences beyond his door with his Elven sight. His powers seemed to have been multiplied by the Bonding to Blade and Stone even while he was not in physical contact with them. “Yes,” he said, turning his attention fully to Melona. “I remember. What happened after I fainted, and why is this my room?”

  Melona sat on the bed and held one of Larken’s hands. Something in the way that she held it told Larken that, although Melona believed he would not hurt her, she was still uncomfortable with the potential of his Talent. “You fainted, and things got wild,” she replied. “At first, there was a lot of confusion, but King Andreas got us all focused on taking care of the wounded, and there were a lot of stunned people to take care of. We think that all will recover, but the infirmary is still full.” Allowing a smile to break through her tension, Melona said, “You probably did the best thing by fainting, but you should have seen it. No one had ever seen this kind of thing before, and everyone had a different opinion on how to treat the patients. Amanda finally had to force everyone into agreement. The whole Healer Hall is still arguing about which method would have been best. Amanda won’t let them argue in public, so they’re arguing in whispers behind her back.” Her eyes twinkled with her amusement over the scene. “Taz says that there’s more arguing than Healing going on now.”

  Larken smiled with her, but his stomach knotted to hear of the results of his struggle. “Is Taz OK?”

  “Taz is having the time of her life. You know how she enjoys seeing stuffed shirts deflated. She said to thank you for what you did.”

  “She said that? I thought she would be furious. She has been watching me like a hawk since I came here.”

  “She relaxed once you began training with the Elves. She thinks the Elves are wonderful. You are all right, aren’t you?” Melona asked. “Amanda said that you could probably Heal yourself beyond our abilities, but I still tried to help.”

  “You Healed me?” asked Larken, suddenly afraid of w
hat Melona might have encountered within him.

  “Not much,” replied Melona. “I tried to help your body Heal, but I’m afraid that wasn’t much help. You have some kind of shield around your mind that won’t let me Heal you more than a little. Eleas said that it was part of your training, but it still worries me.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Larken. “It’s a way that they taught me to guard my thoughts when I’m asleep. But why would that prevent your Healing me, and why am I in this room?”

  “I can’t Heal you with those shields because a lot of Healing is mental or emotional. It takes both your mind and body to do real Healing. And you’re in this room because it’s your new quarters. Do you like it?”

  A soft knock at the door interrupted them. Larken called out permission to enter, and a young page entered cautiously. “We heard you talking. Dwayne went to let the cooks know you are awake, and I’m supposed to take you to the High Council after you eat, if you feel up to it, sir,” the page said quickly, keeping his eyes downcast.

  “I’ll be up to it,” said Larken, sweeping back the covers from his bed. To his surprise, he wore nothing but a full-length nightshirt. He looked at Melona, “Or at least I will be as soon as I dress. Where are my clothes? And who undressed me?”

  “Your clothes are in the wardrobe, and it is part of a Healer’s responsibility to make her patients comfortable,” replied Melona in a cool tone of voice that would have sounded more professional if she were not blushing furiously as she somewhat hastily left the room.

  Larken found several changes of clothes in the wardrobe, all in the red and black of the Warders’ colors. The epaulets on the uniforms were those of a second-ranked Warder or sub-commander—someone the same level as Gahen, and only one rank below Commander Jaris. A quick questioning of the page affirmed that these were Larken's new clothes and his rank. Through his continued overuse of the polite “sir,” it became more than apparent that the page held Larken in awe. Promising himself a lengthy question-and-answer session with Melona and Gahen later, Larken hurriedly dressed and followed the page to the dining hall, where a meal was waiting for him. Larken was surprised at how hungry he was. After he had wolfed down enough for two smith’s apprentices, he asked the page to lead him to the High Council meeting.