“You think there will be more?”
“Yes,” Lorik said grimly. “I think we will face a host of monsters. More than we can defeat without the army from Baskla coming to our aid.”
“And what if King Ricard will not come?” Issalyn said.
“He will,” Lorik said. “He must. It would be senseless to let the invaders cross his border. He can join us and hold the border between Ortis and Baskla. Together we are stronger than either kingdom alone.”
“You are an optimistic person, Lorik. In my experience, kings rarely let rational thought play a factor in their decision making.”
“That is why you must convince him,” Lorik said.
“Me? Why would you think that King Ricard would listen to me?”
“You must make him listen to you.”
“You do not understand,” Issalyn said. “I may be queen, but I wield no power.”
“Perhaps you didn’t when your husband lived, but he has dropped the reins of leadership and you must take them up. You alone have the authority to make decisions for Ortis.”
Issalyn thought about what Lorik was saying. She had thought that becoming queen would give her a voice and a chance to make a difference in the kingdom, but King Oveer didn’t want a partner. Instead, she had been given a suite of rooms and a host of servants that saw to her every need. King Oveer brought her out for special occasions, but rarely spent any time with her. For the first few years of their marriage, he visited her in her bedchamber one or twice a month. When Queen Issalyn didn’t become pregnant right away, healers were sent in to see what the problem was. She was given special herbs mixed into foul tasting tea, ordered to stay in bed, and even forced to burn strange candles with heavy scents that made Issalyn’s head spin.
After another year with no heir, Oveer lost interest. Issalyn had felt that she might be in danger. A queen’s first duty was to provide a male heir, a task she had failed to do. So she quietly recruited a group of servants with special skills. Her food was always tasted by a servant before she ate. Her closest handmaidens also trained with swords and shields. Weapons were kept close to hand in the queen’s quarters, although they hadn’t been needed until King Oveer called the entire army to follow him south.
Now she had an opportunity to make a difference. When she had been younger, she was filled with idealist dreams. Now, she felt an intense lack of self-confidence. Lorik spoke about her going to King Ricard of Baskla as if she were an equal, but she doubted the king would even give her more than a cursory meeting. Oveer had never taken her seriously, and his constant patronizing had stolen her self-respect.
“I do not think I am the person you believe I am,” she said.
“Are you not Queen of Ortis?” Lorik said. “Do you not care about the safety and wellbeing of your kingdom?”
“I do,” Issalyn said softly. “But I’m not strong. I do not think anyone would listen to me.”
“Look around you, your highness. These people all followed you.”
“They fled from danger. We all fled. I didn’t convince anyone to follow me.”
“You sell yourself short,” Lorik said, his gaze penetrating.
Queen Issalyn looked away. “You put too much confidence in me,” she said. “I do not want to disappoint you.”
“You couldn’t. We all must do what we can, and none of us can control the outcome.”
They walked on in silence after that. The day was uneventful. At one point they saw three Leffers flying over with the limp forms of people hanging from their tails. They were too high to stop, even with arrows. It was a depressing sight, as was the abandoned town they made camp in later that night.
Lorik, Stone, and Vera sat around a small fire. Lorik longed for a frothy mug of ale and a comfortable chair, but he contented himself with water as he lounged by the small fire. The nights were cold, but Lorik didn’t mind. The cold weather didn’t seem to bother him very much since the Drery Dru had healed him with their magic.
“You seem in good spirits,” Vera said.
“What makes you say that?” Lorik asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps it was because Queen Issalyn spent all morning walking with you and Liam.”
“I think she likes Stone.”
“Don’t drag me into this,” Stone said.
“We all know who the queen likes,” Vera said testily. “The question is, do you like her?”
“You sound like my mother,” Lorik said.
“She was a wise woman,” Vera retorted. “Now answer the question.”
“I don’t know,” Lorik said. “I haven’t thought about it.”
Stone laughed out loud.
“What are you laughing at?” Lorik asked.
Stone shook his head. “You’re not a good liar.”
“He’s right,” Vera said. “So you do like her.”
“Are we teenagers or adults?” Lorik said. “I don’t need to discuss my feelings with you or anyone else. Besides, it doesn’t matter if I like Queen Issalyn or not. She is a queen and I am a common man.”
“You’re anything but common,” Vera said.
“She’s right, Lorik,” Stone added. “Physically you’re different. You’ve got some kind of magical touch now. Every woman in the camp is making eyes at you. You could have your pick of the lot.”
“I don’t want to pick,” Lorik said. “We’re in the middle of a war... with monsters. Why in the world would I be thinking about romance?”
“You always were clueless,” Vera said. “You talk about Queen Issalyn uniting the kingdom, but everyone here is following you.”
“Including Queen Issalyn,” Stone said.
“It’s too late for you to decide that being a leader isn’t what you want. You came north to protect us, now everyone expects you to do just that. And Liam is right. You’re different. You look more like a king than the statues of ancient rulers or even heroes for that matter. It’s only a matter of time before the whole kingdom calls for you to be made king.”
“I don’t want to be king,” Lorik said. “I never did.”
“Too bad,” Vera said. “There’s no escaping this destiny.”
“I won’t be good at it,” Lorik argued. “I don’t know anything about running a kingdom.”
“Well, you’re fairly good at running the refugee camp,” Stone said. “That’s a start.”
“No,” Lorik said. “Vera is good at running the camp. And she’s got good people making sure things work the way they should.”
“So put Vera in charge,” Stone said. “King Oveer didn’t do a day’s work in his life.”
“You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” Vera said.
“We shouldn’t pretend he was more than he was either,” Stone went on. “I heard the queen talking about him with Lorik. He was a bastard and there’s no way around it. In the end, he put us all in the lurch. We could all be killed because of what he did.”
“Still, that’s all the more reason why the next king should be someone with the skills to bring safety and prosperity back to Ortis,” Lorik said.
“And who is better suited to bring safety to the kingdom than you?” Vera countered in a calm, soft voice.
The silence that followed was heavy with meaning. Lorik knew as well as anyone that he was now the greatest warrior in the kingdom, perhaps in all five kingdoms. But he still didn’t like the idea of becoming a king. It seemed too big, too important, and the truth was he didn’t think he could do it.
“It’s time for me to stand watch,” he grumbled.
“Sorry if I ruined your good mood,” Vera said. “We are with you no matter what.”
“And that means more to me than any crown,” Lorik said.
But even as he walked away from his friends and the little fire they had shared, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was completely true. He liked Issalyn. He liked the way she looked and the way she thought. Under different circumstances, he was sure he would have pursued her, but doing that
now just seemed wrong. She was a queen and who was he? He didn’t know, and he couldn’t promise himself that he would ever know. He shook his head and smiled bitterly. He would probably be dead soon and all of his anxiousness over Queen Issalyn would be for nothing. Dangerous times lay ahead; Lorik felt certain of that. He could sense a darkness approaching, the way an elderly man could feel a change in the weather deep in his bones. And Lorik wasn’t sure he would be able to weather the storm.
Chapter 6
It took more than a week to reach the refugee camp that was set up along the border near the Wilderlands. Lorik had spent most of the week scouting back behind the large group from Ort City. He wanted some distance from the queen, who continued to seek him out. Lorik liked Issalyn, but he was afraid of losing his focus at a time when he needed to remain vigilant.
The camp was busy and growing. Many of the northern towns had been razed by the Norsik invaders. The survivors had joined Lorik’s camp near the Wilderlands rather than going and immediately trying to rebuild their cities. Everyone had heard the rumors of an army of monsters marching north. Refugees from the southern cities brought tales of the Leffers, which only added to the growing fears among the camp. But there were also stories of how Lorik rescued the captives who had been taken into Norsik. The stories of his adventures among the forest elves grew with each telling, as did the final battle with the Norsik raiders. These stories tempered the growing fear of the refugees, many of whom were women and children whose menfolk had been killed or taken south with the king.
The Drery Dru were never seen, but they brought food from their high kingdom among the canopy of the massive redwood trees that filled the Wilderlands. Each morning a cache of food was found near the base of one of the huge trees. The children of the refugees had made searching for the food a game. The Drery Dru couldn’t be relied on to provide for all the needs of the refugees, so groups of men and women went out daily to scavenge among the ruined cities and farms for food. It might have been easier to move the camp away from the Wilderlands, but Lorik feared that he might fail to turn back the massive army the wizard had warned him of and he was hopeful that in the worst-case scenario that the women and children could take shelter among the mighty trees of the forest.
When the crowd from Ort City arrived at the camp, they were welcomed and given a place to make camp and rest from their journey. Lorik had left nearly fifty men in charge of securing the camp. They had found weapons and horses easily enough from the spoils of war left by the Norsik when they were driven out of Ortis. Vera had a group of women who had inventoried all the supplies and made sure that everyone had some form of shelter.
Trinad, a man with experience in the King’s Army as a quartermaster, had been left in charge. Both the security force and the camp organizers reported to Trinad. He was an older man who needed a staff to lean on to get around, but his mind was as sharp as ever and he had a knack for settling disputes peacefully, which made him the perfect overseer of the camp.
Lorik came into the camp after everyone else; even Stone had stopped trying to keep up with Lorik. By the time Lorik arrived, the newcomers were settled and one of the camp guards informed Lorik that Trinad was waiting for him in the big central tent.
Vera had gotten the idea to piece together a larger tent, which she had delegated to some of the women who were skilled at sewing. Now the patchwork tent was raised up on poles in the center of the camp. It was large enough for a group of twenty five people to meet in. It had a massive roof, and walls that could be rolled up and fastened to let in sunlight and air. Some of the nicer artifacts that had been taken by the Norsik raiders had been placed in the tent. There was a large carpet and several chairs with cushions and pillows. There were braziers filled with red hot coals to keep the tent warm at night, and lamps hung from the tent’s poles.
“This is nice,” Lorik said as he approached.
Stone was waiting for him outside the tent. It was late afternoon and the tent flaps were all down to keep the heat inside.
“It is,” Stone said. “What took you so long to get back? Vera was starting to worry about you.”
“I just took my time, that’s all.”
“You should have taken a horse.”
“I would have if it had been necessary,” Lorik said. “But it wasn’t. I knew there would be a hundred things needing my attention when I got here, so I took my time and enjoyed a little solitude.”
Stone nodded and held open the tent flap.
“Have fun,” he said.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“Not unless your life is in danger. I’m not big on committees.”
“Great,” Lorik said. “Some partner you are.”
He went inside and found several people mingling in small groups. Vera and Trinad were the first to approach Lorik, who noticed that Issalyn and her shieldmaidens were present.
“It’s good to have you back, my lord,” said Trinad.
“What have I told you about calling me lord,” Lorik said a little more angrily than he meant to.
“Manners Lorik,” Vera scolded. “You know Trinad is only showing you respect.”
“Yes, of course,” Lorik said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, my lord. I have a purpose for everything I do.”
“Is this him?” came a nasally voice from across the room. “Is this Lorik?”
“Yes, it is, Lord Emry,” said Trinad.
A group of men approached Lorik. They were all dressed in silks and formal armor. The man at the front was a short, pudgy man, with a thick mustache and a balding pate. His eyes were watery and his face was red from too much wine. He was holding a silver goblet in his hands and he looked angry.
“This is Lord Lorik, King of the Drery Dru,” Trinad said, ignoring the astonished look from Lorik.
“Well, it’s good to finally meet you, Lorik,” Emry said the name as if it tasted foul in his mouth. “I understand you’re from the Marshlands?”
“I am,” Lorik said. “And where do you hail from, my lord?”
“I am the Duke of Emryton, now that my father is dead," the short man said. "I have been told that you are in charge of this camp."
Lorik nodded.
"Well, as things stand at this moment, I believe that I should be in charge. The camp is on my family's land."
"I do not dispute you," Lorik said calmly. "I am unfamiliar with the nobles here in the north. I was under the impression that the king called all his nobles to war in the south."
"So true, so true," Emry said. "But I was ill and not able to make the trip. My father went, of course, along with my older brother. I have it on good authority that both are dead now."
"If they were with King Oveer that may very well be true," Lorik said.
"So, as I see you are a man of war, I would be honored if you would lead my soldiers, but I must have complete command here. I will of course see to Queen Issalyn's safety."
"Lord Lorik has been in charge of the camp," Vera said, speaking in a voice that barely concealed her anger. "I see no reason to change that now."
"I would not expect you too," Emry said arrogantly. "Politics are the realm of men. There are many changes coming in Ortis. A new king will be crowned."
"Lord Emry," Trinad said calmly, "we will honor your family, of course, but there is so much work to be done here. Women and children that need constant care. And of course, we are under threat."
"All the more reason to have an experienced lord overseeing the camp. If we are threatened, a noble commander will strike fear into the heart of our enemies."
Queen Issalyn laughed out loud. Emry’s face turned even redder than it had been before. Everyone turned to the queen and waited for her to explain herself.
"Gunther, that is your given name, isn't it?" Issalyn said to Lord Emry. "I remember you came to the king's court once with your father."
"That was a long time ago," Emry said.
"You became ill then too, as I recall."
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"My queen," Emry said angrily, "I would caution you to take care. You no longer have a castle or a kingdom to support you."
"Let's not argue," Lorik said. "I see no reason why Emry can't help with the camp. We all have things to do. Surely he can be useful."
"That's Lord Emry," the short noble said. "It's obvious what is needed here is leadership. As I am the highest ranking official, it is my duty to take charge and make sure everything is done in a fashion worthy of King Oveer's honorable reputation."
"You are a duke," Vera said. "Does not a king and a queen outrank you?"
"Men are title holders," Emry said arrogantly. "Without her husband, Queen Issalyn wields no power. And let's be frank, Lorik is a king of forest elves and bedtime stories. No, I think my title is the only legitimate rank to be found here."
Lorik could see that Vera was about to explode on Emry. He couldn't see a positive outcome from letting Vera vent her frustrations on Emry. He held up a hand to her and she hesitated.
"Lord Emry, I respectfully disagree with your views on rank, but that is a discussion for another time. Right now, we need to prepare for war. An evil witch in Osla is sending an army into Ortis. We have to find a way to stop her. I have been trying to convince Queen Issalyn to go to King Ricard in Baskla and enlist his aide. Your help in that matter would be greatly appreciated."
"Why would we need to enlist King Ricard's help?" Emry said. "That cranky old man wouldn't help his own child if it were drowning. Besides, it would only make Ortis look weak."
"We are weak," Issalyn said. "The honorable King Oveer marched away with our entire army."
"That is no reason to give our enemies an invitation to invade," Emry said.
"Baskla isn't our enemy," Lorik said. "They are our ally."
"You see," Emry said, turning to the men gathered around him, "this is why we need strong leadership. Peasants always think everyone is their ally. They have no concept of the complexities of kingdom politics. I have had enough of this useless conversation. I am in charge here now. I will ensure that our best interests are seen to. This tent shall do as my headquarters, for now, at least, until I can get something more suitable constructed."
Lorik The Defender (The Lorik Trilogy) Page 5