Kings and Daemons

by Marcus Lee

  Either way, friend or not, the rules in Rakan’s world, were to look after yourself first and still look after yourself second. Taran needed to wake up to these rules if he wanted to live.

  Rakan sat down on a rock and started gutting the rabbits laid out in front of him, and every time his knife sliced into them, he imagined it was either Darkon or Lexis he was gutting. For the first time that day, his mood lifted. Yes, he thought, as he held another Darkon, his knife slicing its belly. This is for you!

  -----

  Daleth opened his eyes in his bed-chamber after an unusually restless night. It was still dark, the sun yet to fully rise, and for a moment, Daleth thought about going back to sleep but decided against it.

  He usually had no trouble sleeping soundly, but the last night he’d received another brief communication from an overseer of a unit heading toward a staging post. The message, ‘Kalas is coming,’ with an image of slaughtered men was given to him before the link was broken. The bearer of the news was now likely dead, Daleth surmised.

  As it had been the last thing on his mind, this meant his usual dreams of conquest, victory, and the surge of new life that came with it, had instead been ones where a faceless man was always at the periphery of his vision, hunting him, swords dripping with blood. So, he awoke tired and irritable.

  Perhaps it was foolish to be worried over one man. He had an army one hundred thousand strong, and here he was worrying over the death of a garrison contingent and now a small unit. In the greater scheme of things, it was nothing, not worthy of his time. But try as he could, he still couldn’t shake the fear in the overseers’ voices.

  Thus he was in a foul mood when just after settling down to break fast, a whisper came to his mind of someone seeking an audience. It was one of the Rangers escorting the girl trying to make contact.

  Daleth closed his eyes and listened to the report and then sat deliberating. She was such a special girl, or rather her gift was such a special one, and this wasn’t an easy decision to make.

  He’d learned that her old village now flourished, and an oasis had been discovered on the valley’s rim by the other hunters. To make matters worse, he was unable to draw life from the land she’d healed. Its people, so used to suffering, were now experiencing happiness, and even though they were just one village, he could still feel the tiniest loss of sustenance.

  Rangers were already on their way. Their orders were to burn the settlement and everyone in it to ashes, to make everything disappear as if it had never been.

  He’d so hoped to use her power, to rejuvenate the land so he could draw on its life again, but her village had shown that this would be unlikely. Then, of course, with a hundred thousand men ready to conquer the Freestates and whatever lay beyond, did he really need the distraction or to take a risk however small?

  Finally, the Ranger prompted him. ‘My King?’

  ‘Where are you now?’ he asked, and the Ranger shared the view of what he’d seen and reported that they were at least another twenty days of travel to the capital.

  Daleth sighed, Alano might be upset that he hadn’t been consulted, but that made him smile inside and made the decision so much easier.

  ‘Kill her,’ said Daleth, and report back to me immediately when done.’

  -----

  Taran awoke early from troubled dreams. As he sat up, the sky overhead was full of dark clouds, and there was a fetid, evil wind blowing. It was just before dawn with the hint of light starting to brighten the distant horizon as Taran quietly got to his feet.

  As he looked around in the dim light, he saw the silhouette of Rakan gazing into the distance, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

  Taran approached, stepping around the slightly glowing embers of the last night’s campfire and nodded in greeting. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, trying to pierce the gloom but not seeing anything untoward.

  Rakan nodded down the hill. ‘Tell me. What can you see?‘

  Taran looked, but after a while shook his head. ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. There’s nothing but the hills, the forest as far as I can see in this light and the way we travelled, but ...’ Then he stopped speaking as he realised what he’d just said. ‘I can see our trail!’ exclaimed Taran. ‘How can I see our trail through the trees?’

  Rakan shook his head. ‘It’s not even light yet, and I’m guessing the Rangers have already seen this. Things are going to get interesting very quickly, so stay away from the girl!’ As he spoke, he took Taran’s shoulders in his firm grasp and looked him in the eye. ‘Whatever the Rangers decide to do, stay back, stay quiet and don’t say a word. I will vouch that I was watching you the whole time and you had nothing to do with anything.’

  ‘But I didn’t do anything!’ Taran said defensively.

  Rakan grimaced. ‘That’s not the point, lad. These Rangers are quick to anger and just as quick to kill. It could be we’ll just move on, but if they feel she’s purposely using her gift in this way or there is any kind of risk, there will be serious consequences.’

  They stood there together then, watching the light slowly spread across the land. As it did, there it lay, a vivid green trail, the foliage of the trees through which Maya had passed, bright amongst their dying brethren.

  As Taran followed it with his eyes, it came straight to the camp. He turned to look at Maya who was starting to stir, and noticed in the morning light that she now lay on a bed of vibrant green ferns, and the whole of the campsite showed signs of new life, with fresh grass sprouting everywhere. Worryingly, he saw Darkon and two of the other Rangers standing, one pointing to their trail and then gesturing around.

  Darkon’s black eyes flicked over to where he stood, and the cold smile that slowly spread across the man’s mouth chilled Taran, but then the captain turned his attention back to one of his fellow Rangers who was sitting down, eyes closed.

  Rakan followed Taran’s gaze. ‘He’s a Spirit talker, that one, and likely seeking orders. The only person they take direct orders from is the Witch-King himself, so whatever directive they’re given will be final. Remember what I said,’ he reminded Taran, and walked back to where the men were sleeping and started to rouse them, kicking their feet, and the camp came to life.

  Men cursed, stretching, yawning and of course, complaining, but then quiet slowly descended as everyone noticed the change to the campsite. The grass, the leaves on the bushes, and the bright green leaves on the trees rustling in the morning air.

  Taran felt touched by the beauty and wondered what the others thought. But then Lexis, and of course It had to be him, broke the silence.

  ‘She’s tainted,’ he muttered, then started saying it louder, and everyone began to follow suit, casting evil glances and calling curses at Maya as she stirred.

  As Maya awoke to the open hostility, her hands went to her mouth. Eyes wide, she looked around, noticing the change her gift had worked upon the land without her bidding, and huddled back against a tree trunk next to where she’d slept.

  Taran wanted to go to her, to shield her, but remembered Rakan’s advice. The Witch-King wanted her alive, whereas his own life meant little to the Rangers. So he kept his face sullen like the other men and didn’t meet her eye. Nonetheless, while stirring the embers of the fire and adding more wood, he stayed close enough so that Maya could feel his presence in case she drew comfort from it.

  The men prepared food in the growing flames as water boiled in pans, and it seemed as though the morning might pass without incident.

  As Rakan, Lexis and the others started eating, Taran stood and took some food over to Maya, and nonchalantly tossed some meat into her lap, before handing her a small cup of water. But as he did so, everyone stopped talking.

  Taran looked around, and there stood the five Rangers on the far side of the fire. Straight away he realised something was wrong, if only because the five of them were never together. Two were always on watch, or out scouting, yet here they all were.

  He tried to read th
eir thoughts, but they were dark to his mind, and he cursed his inability to know what was going on. So, trying not to look worried, he moved a few steps away from Maya to a fallen tree trunk and sat down.

  The Rangers moved forward without saying anything and made themselves comfortable. It was the first time they’d shared a fire and eaten food together, yet it couldn’t have felt less like a friendly start to the day.

  As everyone finished eating, Darkon looked around the campfire, a twisted look on his face. ‘You might be wondering why are we all sitting together this morning? It wasn’t really a question, and no one said anything. Into the silence, Darkon continued. ‘Well, it’s because this will be our last day travelling together, and whilst this has been a most unenjoyable experience for us all so far, I think we should part on good terms and a high note, don’t you think?’ He fixed Lexis with his stare as he posed the question.

  Lexis nodded. ‘Yes sir!’

  ‘Don’t you think Lexis, that it’s unfair that privates in the army like yourself never get rewarded, whilst those above you seem to eat better, have better equipment?’ and he looked at Taran’s sword at his hip. ‘Wouldn’t it be proper if sometimes, just sometimes, the lowest-ranked were rewarded as well?’

  Lexis looked to Rakan for guidance, but Rakan was staring stonily ahead, and the look in Darkon’s eyes didn’t allow Lexis to answer in any way other than to agree. ‘You’re right sir. It would be proper to be rewarded.’

  ‘Well,’ said Darkon. ‘Let’s get to the point, shall we?’

  ‘It seems that our guest's presence,’ and he nodded toward Maya ‘is no longer required at the court of our king!’ He looked at Taran as he finished his statement, and Taran tried not to let the shock from the icy fist that gripped his heart show on his face.

  ‘So Lexis, I think the reward for you and your three friends,’ and he smiled at the other soldiers, ‘should be to have some fun with this girl, and when you’ve finished, well, how it ends is up to you!’

  Taran’s head spun, and he heard Maya whimper as what was about to happen suddenly registered. He looked back. Her fists were clenched, knuckles white, her brown eyes were wide, so deep, that he felt he was drowning in the fear that they now held.

  He looked over to Rakan, who gave a barely imperceptible shake of his head.

  Lexis laughed. ‘Well lads,’ he said, sneering, ‘let’s have some fun with Taran’s little pet shall we?’ and he started to get to his feet.

  Taran knew to try and help her would be to die, but he realised, that if she died, a large part of him would die too. When this depth of feeling had grown, he had no idea, but from what he knew of her, she was a gentle soul who had harmed no one, and her only sin, was to have healed. Taran knew in his heart that he wanted to get to know her better, more than anyone he’d ever met.

  As Lexis and the other three soldiers stood up, so did Taran. He saw Rakan put his head in his hands whereas Darkon just smiled maliciously, and Taran knew he’d been manipulated into this situation, but he had no choice.

  ‘Sit down!’ Taran commanded Lexis and the other men. ‘That’s an order. This girl is going to the Witch-King. That is our mission, and we will carry it out!’

  Neither Lexis or the others sat down but instead looked back to Darkon.

  ‘Ahhhhh,’ said Darkon. ‘A loyal soldier, following our king's orders. Well, put your mind at rest. This girl,’ and he jerked his head at Maya, ‘well, her life is now forfeit by order of the king himself. But, Lexis having fun, that’s my order, and last time I looked I outrank you. So now you know, I think you should sit back down, don’t say another word, and just watch.’

  Taran looked back at Maya again. Her eyes were full of tears, yet she blinked them back, a final act of defiance to not give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear. But it wouldn’t last long. The horrors she would suffer before she died would see to that.

  Taran turned to Rakan. ‘Sit down lad!’ Rakan said, a pleading look in his eyes. ‘It’s an order. The old mission is over. It’s time for us to get back to what we do best, soldiering, not looking after some peasant girl.’

  Taran sighed.

  He looked to the sky. The clouds were dark, foreboding and full of ill promise. Carrion birds circled in the distance, and he breathed the air that smelt of death to come. His instincts told him to stand back, to sit down, to do as Rakan suggested.

  Instead, he drew his sword and turned to Maya. ‘I’m so sorry it came to this,’ he said, and slashed the blade down twice, severing the ropes that held her wrists and feet. He pulled his dagger out and passed it to her. ‘At least you can die free, with a friend at your side.’

  Darkon bellowed with laughter. ‘Oh, I could never have even dreamed of this!’ he exclaimed, clapping. ‘This shall be even more fun than I anticipated. What do you think Rakan? He’s disobeyed a direct order and drawn his sword to free a prisoner. I do believe your corporal’s life is forfeit, don’t you agree?’

  Rakan nodded. ‘That is the law.’

  ‘Lexis, I think it is time for you and your friends to kill this fool so that we can bring an end to his insubordinate behaviour,’ said Darkon.

  Lexis’ face took on a wicked look. ‘You know Taran, I do owe you for my crooked nose, and even if I hadn’t been ordered, I’d have found a way to kill you someday anyhow.’ He drew his sword, and the other three men did the same.

  ‘You don’t have to do this!’ reasoned Taran. ‘Look around you, see what she’s done, she’s a healer. She doesn’t deserve to die!’ But even as he said it, he was reading their minds, seeing that they saw her as tainted or worse and him nothing but an obstacle standing in the way of their evil fun, such was the influence of the amulets they wore.

  Taran knew this was the end, and as Maya rose to stand behind him, he realised this was where he was meant to be, by her side.

  ‘It might be best if you use that dagger on yourself now,’ he said to Maya, lifting his sword to a guard position. But he saw her shake her head swiftly in response.

  ‘Kill him!’ commanded Darkon, and Lexis and the others surged forward.

  Taran had never fought four men before, having mostly trained solo with Rakan, but he knew Lexis’ move even before he made it, and negating numbers in a sword fight was much the same as fighting with your hands. He pushed Maya backwards as he moved sideways, putting himself directly in front of Lexis, so he briefly obstructed the others.

  Lexis thrust to where Taran had stood a mere moment ago, only to have Taran’s sword slash across his throat, and as he went down, blood frothing over his grasping fingers, he saw Taran move on. Angrin, who had been right behind Lexis, tripped over the falling body and never saw the blow that almost severed his neck even as Taran rolled under Aspen’s sweep, disembowelling him as he surged to his feet and rammed his sword up into Kazad’s groin.

  It was over within ten heartbeats, and Taran stood back, blood running from his hands as they gripped the sword.

  Darkon clapped again. ‘Bravo, bravo. Truly, this day just gets better and better and yet I do grow tired. Let me see how you fare against one of my men as opposed to four imbeciles! You know Rakan, you really should have trained them all as well as your corporal here, they might have done a lot better. Yet, I do believe this boy is rather gifted in the use of his blade … or maybe just gifted. Irrespective, he and whatever gifts he has, die here.

  ‘Lazard!’ snapped Darkon, and a grim-faced Ranger started to rise.

  ‘Wait,’ said Rakan.

  Darkon frowned. ‘Really, for what exactly?’

  ‘It should be me that kills him!’ Rakan suggested.

  Darkon looked closely at Rakan, measuring his words and then laughed. ‘Indeed, it should be, and your reward will be reinstatement in your old unit. That is what you said you wanted more than anything?’ asked Darkon.

  Rakan nodded.

  ‘Then go ahead, but, take your time and cut him to pieces.’

  Taran couldn’t believe it. He cast his
mind out to read Rakan’s, who was starting to stand up. There was no way to beat him without dying. Not once in all their practice bouts had he won cleanly. What he saw made him recoil.

  ‘Please don’t,’ he pleaded in a whisper.

  -----

  Rakan pushed himself to his feet, his movements slow but nonetheless exuding the violence soon to come. He drew his sword and bending down reached out his hand to one of the Rangers and nodded at the man’s weapon. The Ranger, after a moment’s hesitation, passed it over.

  Rakan straightened up, and weaved the two blades in a figure of eight, loosening his muscles. He looked at Taran standing defiantly, both hands on his sword, shaking from fear or the rush of blood. The girl Maya was behind him, back against a tree the dagger in her hand.

  As Rakan considered his initial moves, for the first time since joining the army, he felt the beginnings of doubt.

  It had been so long since he’d felt anything other than anger or hatred until recently.

  His mind flashed back to when he’d earned his uniform in the Nightstalkers and gone home to show everyone how much he’d achieved, to make them proud of the small boy they had scorned. Yet as he’d returned, full of positive thoughts, his mind became darker, returning to memories of his unhappiness at their hands, and these had grown and grown out of all proportion.

  When his father and mother had seen him, they’d run toward him arms outstretched in welcome, smiles on their lips and tears on their cheeks, and yet he’d drawn his sword and cut them down, before turning on everyone else who’d even looked in his direction with disdain.

  Almost thirty years had gone by since then. Rebellions put down mercilessly in the early days, then countless peasants, bandits and soldiers of the Eyre slaughtered, and not once had he not slept soundly. Soldiers under his command he’d killed if they’d offered him complaint, and he’d harboured grudges throughout his whole life, never once allowing anyone to get close, never once having a friend.