by Jon Kiln
The bodies were gone, leaving behind spots of blood soaking into the sand and the hardpan. Berengar looked over to the spot where the prince had fallen under Caffrey’s knife. There were a few spots of blood, but most had been covered over by the disturbed sands and the tracks of warriors riding east to avenge the prince. Berengar wasn’t sure if the blood that remained was his or the prince’s.
“This is why Caffrey left me here,” Berengar said out loud. Berengar thought that perhaps this was the future Caffrey saw with Berengar hiding in the desert and then dying painfully of exposure.
He reached the water and cupped some to his lips. His stomach cramped suddenly and he wretched, but there was nothing to spew forth.
He collapsed to his side, laying on the sand. The sun was too far down and he was too tired to lift his head to see which direction he faced. He thought it was south, but he didn’t know and it hardly mattered.
He saw the dust plume again. At first, he thought it was still retreating, but then realized it was approaching.
“I guess I’m actually facing north then,” he whispered.
Berengar struggled to lift his head, but couldn’t seem to bring himself off the hardpan. He thought that maybe he could use a palm frond to cover his trail this time. He would need to find the cloak and take it too or they might spot it and be able to follow him.
He still couldn’t seem to move himself.
He saw the riders enter the oasis. They dismounted and approached quickly in his blurry vision.
Berengar mustered all the energy he could and pushed it into his voice instead of trying again to move. “It was Lord Caffrey.”
Nisero knelt down into Berengar’s view. “Which way did he go, Captain?”
Berengar took several breaths and then said, “West. After another fragment. He killed the prince.”
“What prince?” Nisero looked confused.
One of the men brought a skin of water. Berengar saw that it was Stoleck. The Captain tried to refuse it, but Nisero forced him to drink. Berengar coughed and gripped his stomach as he waited for the cramps to subside.
“We need to go,” Berengar said hoarsely. “If I could see the dust of your ride, then they could too.”
“Who?” Nisero asked in worry. “Caffrey?”
“The army of the east.”
Nisero and a couple other Guardsmen helped him to his feet. He put weight on his ankle and went down again.
“I was cut,” Berengar explained.
Nisero pulled off the Captain’s boot and Berengar cried out.
Nisero peered at the wound. “We need to treat this, now.”
“We have to get back to the capital,” Berengar said, grimacing in pain. “We need to move west and enter below the battle lines. We need to go now, Lieutenant.”
Nisero put a hand on Berengar’s chest. “We will, sir. We will. We need to deal with this first… Get me bandages for his wrists as well, please.”
Chapter 13: Promises in Halves
“I used the Eye,” Nisero revealed, almost sheepishly.
“I wish you hadn’t,” Berengar said as they rode west over sand marked with patches of grass. “We still don’t know the full extent of its power or the consequences of using it.”
“It was the fastest way. Maybe the only way. I saw down every path that the fragment was not on the island. I was able to see where Caffrey had taken you even though I could not see him.”
Berengar let out an audible sigh. He looked back over his shoulder at the other Guardsmen. The wagons and support were noticeably absent. “And you sent Belsh back north with the support?”
“That was the message the boy got from what you told him.”
“Good,” Berengar approved. “I wish you had sent more men with him. There is a war going on.”
“Captain Felords and other loyal fighters have joined our cause against Caffrey and the southern forces that follow him. Belsh has plenty of help.”
“I hope it is enough.”
“We had to slim down to a fast moving force,” Nisero pointed out. “Along many of the paths, you did not make it. Time was an issue.”
“We better get back to the palace or time may not be enough.”
The Lieutenant held out Belsh’s satchel to the Captain. Berengar stared at it a moment before taking it and looping the strap back over his head. It felt heavy on his side, but the Captain assumed that was an inner weight and not an actual, physical one.
“Marlex had a fragment and now King Ramael has it,” he said tiredly. “He had it before he ever sent us on this adventure.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” said Nisero.
“I need to speak with the King. Caffrey has designs on the throne of Ramael. The conflict to the south was merely a distraction and one that Lord Caffrey does not care whether it’s successful or not. Pretending to trade me to the heir of the kingdom to the east and then murdering the boy was a distraction as well. His whole focus is on reassembling the pieces of the Eye. Everything else he wants from the world comes after that. I’m beginning to think that this was the entire obsession of his life.”
“Why did he let us keep the fragment in exchange for you?” Nisero asked. “Why let you go to possibly assemble two of the pieces yourself just to have to face you again?”
“I don’t pretend to know Caffrey’s mind nor do I truly want to,” Captain Berengar replied. “I think maybe he believes he can take the two pieces from me. He seemed to imply that killing me was a desire of his, but keeping me alive was required to fulfill his plan.”
“His implications are as untrustworthy as the man himself.”
“We know he wants the Eye for himself. If he left us to even two of the pieces, then he must see that as his best path to taking it for himself. We will have to be most careful not to fall into his hands again with the pieces that he wants.”
“That leaves us with deciding whether to flee or fight while not knowing which option serves him, Captain.”
“Caffrey has to die and the pieces of the Eye must be scattered again,” Berengar decided.
“King Ramael might not agree with the second part of that plan. What if the King demands the Eye for himself once this business is finished?”
Berengar grunted and looked away. “We serve at the pleasure of the King, then.”
“Maybe it is for the best. Scattering the pieces did not spare Faithcore’s kingdom and did not spare us the problems of the Great Artifact now. Having it in the hands of the King we serve might be best for our kingdom, and perhaps the world as well.”
Captain Berengar stared down at the cracked ground passing under his horse. “Usually if something is best, one does not have to wonder if it is so.”
They camped within the wastes of the kingdom to the east. They kept fires low and set guards to their backs to watch while sending scouts ahead to be sure the border was clear on the edge of the sands.
The fighting did prove to be concentrated farther north in the greener and more populated regions. The Elite Guard entered the kingdom and proceeded northwest to engage the fastest roads back to the capital. Even in the villages and towns that had not been struck by the direct fighting, fields were stripped and the villages were notably devoid of young men, who had been sent off to fight upon one of the fronts.
They worked their way along roads that Nisero began to recognize. A small temple off to their right looked abandoned, but he remembered that it was not. Chimes sounded from within as they passed. They made a left at the next intersection and followed the road west as they approached Caffrey’s estate.
Two regular army soldiers guarded the gate and greeted Berengar as he approached. Berengar dismounted and said, “Men, you are returning with me to the capital in the morning. Once there, you will take up the guard of the walls of the city with the other units. The Elite Guard will take charge of Caffrey’s estate.”
The men left to gather their things for the morning.
Nisero dismounted and l
ed his horse by the reins. “How many are staying and how many are returning to the capital?”
“I and the two regular army are going to the capital. You and the Guard will remain here until I return.”
Nisero gritted his teeth. He ordered the men to make camp and set watches around the gate and walls. He walked with the Captain toward the darkened house. Berengar limped as they moved over the grounds.
“Sir, with respect, if Caffrey is bound for the palace and the fragment we assume is in the hands of the King, I don’t understand leaving our forces out here. We can leave watches and messengers, if it is an early warning of Caffrey’s attack that you seek.”
“I’m leaving you with the fragment while I go to speak with the King.”
Nisero stopped short and Berengar did as well, turning with his horse’s reins in hand to face the Lieutenant.
“Why would you do that?” Nisero asked.
“I do not know what I will face with the King. I fear we may need the Corners to face down whatever power Caffrey might wield. The King is less likely to give me the one he possesses, if I bring him a second. That might be the mistake Caffrey is seeking as he invades. He is counting on the greed of a King to keep the Corners of the Eye right where he can find them. I might be able to convince the King to entrust me with his treasure, if I promise to bring him back the completed Eye once Caffrey… and Solag are vanquished.”
“What if you can’t convince him?”
“Then, at the very least, we will have one piece of the Eye away from Caffrey with which to bait him. He will not rest until he has it all. We can draw him out of whatever invasion plans he has. Then, we might goad him into a mistake. We’ve done it before with his last attempt through Marlex and they had a piece of the Eye then, too. Perhaps it is possible to thread that needle again.”
“And what if Caffrey comes here?”
Berengar shrugged. “Then, run.”
Nisero shook his head. “Yes, sir. I will write that brilliant advice on my heart so that I never forget. Are we not exposed here, though?”
“The weakness of the power of sight provided by the Eye is the blind spots,” Berengar described. “Seeing all paths makes one believe they can make the right choice. Marlex proves that isn’t true and perhaps we are all proving it as well. I think Caffrey may have his own blind spots and maybe this estate would be one of those.”
“And if we are wrong and he does come here?”
“Then, quite seriously, you need to run.”
***
The next morning, Berengar passed off the satchel to Nisero. He felt a great weight lifted off him in not having the piece, but he felt great fear in letting it go too.
Berengar rode out with the regular army soldiers and reached the capital by mid-day. He dismissed them to report to the commander on the wall and began his approach on the palace.
He considered checking on his daughter and grandson. If Caffrey did attack the city, Solag most certainly had designs on Berengar’s family. He thought about sending them off into hiding, but Caffrey had the Eye and would see where they went. Then, they would not have the protection of the city.
The Captain pondered bringing them along under the protection of the Eye where Caffrey could not see them. Though that seemed dubious safety as well because sometimes the blind spot revealed locations too. That’s how Berengar found the island after all. Even having the power of the Eye available to him, Berengar saw no clear answer.
Belsh rode up beside him from a side street. “Captain.”
Berengar smiled and pulled his horse to a stop. “Belsh, you made it. You understood my message.”
“It took a while to convince my brother of as much. The southern forces had broken and Commander Holwest was preparing to pursue.”
“Holwest is here then?”
“He is. He asked me to request a meeting with you. The King was not thrilled to see those assigned to the southern front returning. Holwest would like to get some clarity.”
“The fight is coming here. Turns out it always was. Is the southern front abandoned?”
“No,” answered Belsh. “There is a contingent left there under other commanders. Captain Felords and the other clan leaders with him are reinforcing the King’s men there. Holwest is not convinced of their loyalty, but he relented.”
“I doubt the south will see any fighting. Caffrey is coming here. I’m going to see the King.”
Belsh rode back up the side street and Berengar continued toward the palace.
He heard conversation off to his right and the Captain looked to see a group of men talking in the shadows of an alley. One man struck another and the conversation rose to shouts and threats. They took hold of each other’s clothing and weapons came out. Berengar was tempted to just let them stab one another and be done with it. If they were men of character, they would be on the walls of the city or serving at one of the fronts. Either way, they would still be about the business of spilling blood, so maybe it made no difference.
Still, Berengar found it in himself to call out and intervene. If he had the fragment in his hand, he could see both paths played out before him. He had seen many futures with blood spilled between here and the palace. Some of it was his.
He rubbed at the bandages around his wrists. His ankle began to ache and itch as he finally found his voice. “Hail, good citizens. What is your honest business here?”
They scattered in every direction, leaving one another behind. No one was stabbed and no blood spilled for now, so Berengar continued onward.
Berengar was greeted by two of the Elite Guard he had sent back with one of his messages. They took the reins of his horse. The Captain saluted and limped through the gates into the grounds without comment. As he reached the interior gate two more Guardsmen and more regular army saluted him.
One of the men said, “Lift your arms, please, Captain.”
Berengar stood still for a moment, but then obeyed. One of the Guardsmen unsheathed Berengar’s sword and passed it off to one of the regular army. They removed his knife and searched the rest of his clothing.
As they reached his boot, Berengar hissed and then growled. “Watch it men. I was cut by my enemy. Do not reopen my wounds.”
“Sorry, sir.”
One of the Guardsmen found Prince Xerath’s knife and passed it off as well. Berengar stared at the blade for a moment. He had forgotten he had it on him still.
If he had still been holding the fragment, that would have been taken from him as well. Maybe that was the very reason the King was having him searched.
“The King awaits, sir,” one of the men said.
Berengar limped forward. The other Elite Guardsmen kept their swords. Berengar expected to have his hands bound or to be struck on the skull and taken to the dungeons for some crime he was not aware he had committed. Maybe Berengar was already charged with the murder of the heir to the eastern throne. It would not be the first time.
Berengar looked back over his shoulder. “Don’t lose that sword. It was just given to me.”
Berengar turned his attention back on his men as he approached the stairs. “Are you under orders to arrest me or waylay me in some way?”
One of the Guardsmen cleared his throat and said, “Why would that possibly be the case, sir?”
“Just making sure. I could use your support on the stairs. My ankle was cut fairly deeply.”
The men held him under his arms with the Captain holding onto their shoulders. They nearly carried him up the flights of stairs as his feet only barely touched each step. He prepared to make the turn at the doors over the scrapes in the floor outside the King’s chambers when the guards there opened the chamber doors. The Elite Guardsmen released the Captain and took up position outside.
Berengar limped inside and the guards closed the doors behind him.
The King’s bed was as large or larger than most rooms Berengar had slept in during his life. It was draped in silks and had carved posts as thick as tree
trunks. They connected into the floor and high ceiling. The carvings were coated in silver.
Paintings and sculptures marked the long walls in both directions. The fine, wooden desks were still covered in maps and scribbled reports. Most were old and outdated. Berengar recognized them from his previous visits before his latest quest began.
The King stood in common clothing with no cloak, robes, or crown. He poured wine from a glossy, blazed pitcher into a crystal glass. The wine was a dark crimson and purple. Berengar found himself thinking of blood poured into sand.
King Ramael brought the glass to his lips with his back turned. He turned his head enough for the Captain to see him sip. A small dribble escaped his lips and traveled down into the wide collar of the King’s shirt. The King paused as his wrinkled neck bobbed with his swallows. The King then took another long draw of the wine.
Berengar stood silently, waiting on the King to address him.
King Ramael set the glass down, still half filled, next to the pitcher. His fingers lingered on the crystal and then he braced his hands wide on the table. He turned his face away and bowed his head making it almost disappear from Berengar’s sight.
Berengar thought about images of blood on the floors of the palace. The thought about the two of them from real memories of battling to retake the palace for Ramael passed through his mind. He thought about them from images shown to him by the Eye with blood on the crown. He remembered a future version of Nisero drawing his blade on Berengar to punish him for a crime he might one day commit.
“You used the Great Artifact?” Ramael asked without turning around.
“We possess one piece of it, your majesty,” Berengar replied carefully.
“That is not what I asked you.”
“The priests in some forgotten temple had held the piece for me to retrieve since before I was born. I had touched it and experienced a vision before I knew its power.”
“So you are a man of destiny now, are you?” Ramael mocked.