Lorik The Defender (The Lorik Trilogy) (24 page)

Lorik had gone from impatient to outright angry. They had been fed by the army’s cooks. Then, they checked on the horses, all the while asking about Queen Issalyn. No one had seen the queen, or even anyone from Ortis. They were three days journey from the refugee camp near the Wilderlands, but Lorik knew that Issalyn would not have just abandoned her mission. Someone, somewhere, should have seen her.

“She’ll be okay,” Stone said. “The good thing is that the war is over. Ortis is safe, right?”

“Perhaps she got word that King Ricard’s army was already on the move and she turned back to the camp,” Vera suggested.

“That’s a very good possibility,” Stone said. “I mean, why travel all that way for nothing?”

“She would have done it because she needed to establish her position,” Lorik said. “She’s the Queen of Ortis, she needed to make sure King Ricard respected that and didn’t see Ortis as a kingdom ripe for the taking.”

“So we’ll go to the Wilderlands camp first thing in the morning,” Vera said. “I’m sure we’ll find her.”

“No, she isn’t there,” Lorik said.

He tried not to let his anger show, but it was difficult. He knew something was wrong, even though he couldn’t explain how he knew that. The pull to go north was so strong, it was almost as if someone had tied a rope around his neck and was tugging him.

“I have to go north and I’m leaving tonight,” he told the others. “I know this sounds crazy but I feel like this is something I have to do.”

“That’s extreme,” Stone said. “We could use some rest.”

“It’s okay,” Vera said.

“No,” Lorik said, biting down the bitter taste of rejection that rose up in his throat. “He’s right. You need to rest. In fact, you should stay here, or go to the camp like you said. I can go north alone.”

“Don’t be that way,” Vera said. “Of course we’re coming with you.”

“You need to think of the baby,” Lorik said.

“He’s right,” Vyrnon spoke up. He was normally a very quiet person, keeping his thoughts to himself unless someone asked him a direction question. He surprised everyone when he spoke. “A mare needs lots of rest, otherwise the foal will be weak and sickly.”

“I’m not a horse,” Vera said sarcastically.

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Vyrnon said, trying to recover from his gaff.

“We know,” Stone said. “She’s joking. But one full night’s rest, with no one needing to stand guard, I think we could all use that.”

“And, if you want to go north, we’ll go,” Vera said softly.

“Alright,” Lorik said. “I know you’re right. I just feel anxious. It’s terribly hard knowing that if she’s in danger, if she needs me, I’m so far away. I can’t do anything.”

“Control freak,” Stone taunted.

“It’s called being in love,” Vera said, then turning to Lorik. “You’ve never experienced loving someone more than you love yourself.”

“You know that isn’t true,” Lorik said. “I would give my life for you, or Stone, or Chancy, or any one of our volunteers.”

“That’s because you are selfless, and you care about others, but being in love is different.”

“She’s right,” Stone agreed. “Being in love with someone is like taking your most prized possession, giving it a mind of its own and letting it go.”

“I know you both mean well, but there is something more to this. Something so supernatural, it’s... magical.”

“He’s got it bad,” Stone said teasingly to Vera.

“Sounds like true love to me,” she replied.

“No, you’re not listening,” Lorik said. “This is something outside myself. It’s not just affection. I’ve felt a need to go north since before we left the camp. The mist was leading me north. It’s magic, I can feel the need to go north. There’s danger there, not just to Queen Issalyn, but to all of us.”

“Is it the witch?” Stone asked.

“I don’t know,” Lorik replied. “I guess that’s possible. And I think that Issalyn’s disappearance is linked to King Ricard’s daughter going missing.”

“Well, I’ve seen you do things I didn’t think possible,” Stone said. “If you’ve got a hunch that we need to go north, I’m with you.”

“We all are,” Vera said.

They were sitting by a fire near the larger tents that housed the king’s commanders and advisors. Night had fallen and all around them they heard the laughter of the king’s soldiers. There was the sound of singing and men talking in the cold night air.

They had been on the move so much it was nice just to sit still near a warm fire. The heat was luxurious. Vera was soon asleep, leaning on Stone, his arm around her. Vyrnon stretched out by the fire and snored unashamedly.

“Am I pushing her too hard?” Lorik asked his friend.

“No,” Stone said. “We’re alright.”

“I know this seems crazy, but the Drery Dru said that I was open to magic now. I’m not a wizard or anything like that, but something is telling me to go north. It was like a nagging idea at first, but it’s like a toothache now. It’s all I can think about.”

“There you are Lorik, Lord Yettlebor will see you now,” said Commander Lorys, who came walking into their circle of firelight. “It’s best not to keep him waiting.”

“We’re ready,” Lorik said, getting quickly to his feet.

Stone roused Vera and then helped her up.

“Should we wake Vyrnon?” Stone asked.

“No,” Lorik said. “Let him sleep.”

Lorys led them to a large tent. There were other tents, most with open flaps and lanterns giving the structures a warm glow. Lorik saw men in expensive clothes being served food as they lounged in ornate camp chairs. It was obvious that the nobles of Baskla traveled in style. Lorik found the pomp and circumstance of the large tents arrogant, but he was a simple man. He recalled that many nights he’d slept out under the stars, either on the ground or in the back of one of his wagons. He’d never had more than a blanket on those journeys from the Marshlands up to larger cities of Ortis.

Inside the large tent, Lorik was surprised to see how spartan the furnishings were. He'd expected Lord Yettlebor’s domicile to be lavish inside, but there was only a wooden table with maps spread across the surface, a brazier with glowing coals, simple canvas chairs and a cot against the far back wall of the tent.

A big man with a thick, animal skin cloak stood looking over the map on the table. He looked up as Lorik stooped to come inside. Stone, Vera, and Lorys followed. The man eyed Lorik warily, and Lorys stepped forward to present them.

"This is Lorik of Ortis," he said. "His companions are Stone and Vera, also of Ortis. May I present Lord Yettlebor."

Lorik nodded as Yettlebor cleared his throat.

"Welcome, sir, we've been expecting you," Yettlebor said stiffly.

"I'm not a lord, or even a noble," Lorik said. "There is no need for decorum with me."

"We'll, we mustn't lose our civility, even if the Five Kingdoms are in ruins."

"The Five Kingdoms will survive," Lorik went on. "We had gone south to survey the enemy and slow their progress if possible. The witch lost control of her forces, and they turned on each other. You'll find the countryside scattered with their corpses a week’s ride to the south."

"Is that so," Yettlebor said skeptically.

"It is," Lorik said, this temper simmering just below the surface. "Can you tell me more about King Ricard's daughter?"

"That needn't be your concern. I am in command here with the king's full authority."

"I'm not worried about here; I just told you that the threat here is past. Queen Issalyn was on a quest to find your king and enlist his aid. She has not been seen by anyone in your camp unless I am greatly mistaken."

"I am not aware of any peerage from Ortis," Yettlebor said, arrogance dripping from his words.

"She is lost then, and I mean to find her. I will be going north, but I fear that her fate is the same as your princess. If it wouldn't be too much trouble," Lorik said testily, "I would like to know what the circumstances are surrounding the princess’ disappearance."

Yettlebor stood up, clasping his hands behind his back and nodding. He began to pace. Lorik crossed his arms and waited.

"We were sent word that the princess was spirited away from the castle," Yettlebor said. "That is all we know here. Soldiers were dispatched to find the girl and King Ricard has returned to Forxam to ensure her safety. If your queen is with the princess, then she too will be rescued, you can have no fear of that."

"Queen Issalyn is my responsibility," Lorik said.

"That is odd," Yettlebor said. "What is your connection to the queen?"

"She is under my protection," Lorik said. "I have no desire to hinder your mission. I have brought the news from Ortis, please feel free to confirm it. I have given Commander Lorys a lengthy explanation of all we saw and encountered."

"Fine," said Yettlebor, "but if you insist on going into Baskla, I must also insist on providing you with an escort. At least as far as Forxam."

"That isn't necessary," Lorik said.

"I must insist," Yettlebor said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“We aren't the enemy, Lord Yettlebor," Vera said.

“No, I don’t take you as such, but I need to send word of your report to King Ricard. I’ll send scouts to confirm your assessment of the situation of course, but if what you’ve said is true, then our forces are needed in Baskla.”

“Fine,” Lorik said, “but don’t expect us to slow our pace. We leave at dawn.”

“I’m sure any of my men can keep up with you, sir, but to ensure it I’ll send Commander Lorys, with a troop of our cavalry. I want your fastest men riding south,” Yettlebor told his subordinate.

“Lord, I think I can serve our king better here with the main force—” Commander Lorys said, but Yettlebor cut him off.

“What service could be better than helping find the missing princess? You have your orders, commander. Ready your men and then report back here before dawn. I’ll have dispatches for you.”

“Yes, Lord Yettlebor,” Lorys said in an icy tone.

“Thank you, lord,” Lorik said. “Could I trouble you for one small favor?”

“Perhaps?” the older man said.

“Once you confirm our report, would please send word to the camp near the Wilderlands. They should know that the danger is past and the rest of my squad of volunteers is holding the castle in Ort City.”

Yettlebor eyed Lorik a moment before responding.

“Of course,” he finally said.

Lorik, Stone, and Vera bowed slightly then left the tent. Lorys followed, muttering angrily as he went, but not speaking loud enough that Lorik could hear him.

“I’m sorry to have dragged you into our business,” Lorik said.

“It wasn’t you,” Commander Lorys said angrily. “That pompous fool has been looking for an opportunity to get rid of me.”

“Why?” Vera asked.

“He feels I distract from his
authority
,” he said the last word with vicious disdain, then cleared his throat and spat. “He doesn’t like me because the other commanders avoid him, more often coming to me for counsel. But that’s only because he belittles them at every chance. Being a cousin to the king does not give him the right to make everyone bow and scrape before him.”

“I’m sorry,” Lorik said.

“Don’t be, at least I’ll be rid of him for a while. I shouldn’t complain really, most of the other commanders would jump at the chance to be out from under Yettlebor’s thumb. I will see that my men are ready to ride at dawn.”

“Thank you,” Lorik said.

They watched as the commander hurried away. Stone broke the silence when Lorys was far enough away that they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Lord Yettlebor doesn’t trust us,” he said.

“He has an eye on the vacated throne in Ort City,” Lorik replied. “I have little doubt he’ll march south.”

“Shouldn’t we stay and make sure he doesn’t?” Vera asked.

“No, we’ll deal with him when the time comes,” Lorik said. “We are needed in the north; that must be our priority.”

“Well, I’m going to get a little sleep,” Stone said.

“Me too,” Vera added with a yawn.

“I’ll make sure all is in order,” Lorik said. “I’ll wake you just before sunrise.”

Stone spread a blanket by the fire. Vyrnon was still snoring, but it was a soft grumble, not an angry roar. Stone and Vera wrapped themselves in their cloaks, then lay down together, Vera closest to the fire and Stone snuggled close behind her.

Lorik knew the horses would be ready in the morning. Vyrnon had already seen to their care and he had come to trust the big man when it came to horses. Lorik went instead to the wagons that held the Baskla army’s supplies. He filled four bags with food, and refilled all their canteens with fresh water from a nearby stream. It was past midnight when he returned to where his friends slept. The fire had died down and he added wood, making sure the fire would burn warmly for several more hours. Then he wrapped himself in his heavy cloak and laid down with his feet near the blaze. He tried to sleep, but it was difficult. He knew that somewhere in the north, Issalyn was waiting for him. He wondered if she was looking up at that same sky and thinking of him. He wanted to run to her, to race north, but that same strategy had almost cost him his life against the witch’s army. Whatever was drawing him north wasn’t good, he could feel the evil growing, like gathering storm clouds. He knew that whatever it was, he had to stop it, before it rolled over Baskla and threatened the people he loved.

They rode hard, the north-south road leading from Ortis into Baskla was wide and well maintained. The foul weather left the road a muddy mess in some places, but compared to the rugged hills and rocky soil of Baskla, the road was easy to traverse.

Lorik was quiet, preferring to ride at the head of the group. Commander Lorys had nearly a hundred riders with him, though none were nobles. Lorik guessed that Lorys commanded the army’s regular cavalry, which made him somehow second rate to noble-born knights with their expensive armor and large destriers. Lorik had come to like the commander; he was a practical man. The large group of riders moved much more slowly that Lorik would have liked, but they rode from sunup to sundown, not even stopping to walk their horses. Stone and Vera kept to themselves. Vera sometimes rode in the supply wagon that trailed the group. She was happy to get a break from the saddle. Lorik thought she was just beginning to show and although they weren’t yet eating from the supplies Lorik had commandeered, he worried that he hadn’t gotten enough food. Vera ate throughout the day, always snacking on something. She even woke up in the night at times and went looking for food.

They were four days into their northern journey—the terrain was steep and rough, settlements were few and far between—when they ran into King Ricard’s search party. The King had returned to Forxam with fifty men as soon as he heard the news about his daughter. Lorik guessed they were still a couple days ride from the capital, but the king was searching for his daughter.

Lorys called a halt to the troop and rode forward toward the king’s entourage with Lorik. There were a dozen men with King Ricard. Eight were guards, heavily armed and fierce looking men. The other four men were nobles, Lorik guessed they were the king’s advisors. None of the men in the party looked happy.

“What is this?” the king said in his customary gruff voice. “Who sent you north, commander?”

“Lord Yettlebor, your majesty. We have news of the witch’s army.”

“Who is this?” King Ricard nodded toward Lorik.

“This is Lorik of Ortis, sire,” Lorys said.

“Ah, I should have guessed,” King Ricard said. “The wizard described you and you fit the bill. So, what news have you of the witch’s horde.”

“She has lost control of her soldiers, King Ricard,” Lorik said. “They were mutated, somehow enhanced physically and in most cases deformed. They fell on each other when the witch’s spell broke. Many were killed, the rest have fled, mostly to the south.”

“Well, that’s good news at least,” Ricard said.

“Have you had any luck finding the princess?” Lorys said, offering the leather pouch of dispatches to one of the king’s advisors.

“Not so far,” Ricard said. “The devils have been clever. There are tracks in every direction. Sometimes the party is on foot, other times they ride. Nothing makes sense.”

“They’re in the north,” Lorik said.

There was a silence among the men as everyone stared hard at Lorik, who returned their gaze. Stone and Vera rode forward to join Lorik, but hung back slightly.

“How do you know where my daughter is?” King Ricard said, his voice brimming with anger.

“It’s hard to explain,” Lorik said. “But there is evil in the north and that is where your daughter has been taken. We have come to search for Queen Issalyn.”

“What does Oveer’s wife have to do with this?” Ricard asked.

“She was coming north to seek your aid, my king,” Lorik said, his voice calm despite the tension around him. “She disappeared along the way. Then I heard of your daughter and I’m convinced the two are connected somehow.”

“You think Queen Issalyn took my daughter?”

“No,” Lorik said. “I think whoever took your daughter also captured Queen Issalyn. I have come to find her.”

“And you think they’re in the north?”

“Yes,” Lorik said.

The king laughed, his men looked at each other nervously.

“You’re mad,” the king said. “I’ll waste no more time with you.”

Lorik bowed his head slightly, but kept his eyes on the king. Ricard’s guards’ hands tightened on their weapons.

“I’m sorry if I have offended you,” Lorik said. “That was not my intention.”

“Go back to Ortis, or what’s left of it,” Ricard sneered. “I’m sorry your kingdom was laid waste, but it was Oveer’s folly that led to your downfall. I’ll not be saddled with your asinine opinions about my daughter.”

“I must find Queen Issalyn,” Lorik said.

“If your queen is with my daughter, she shall be found and returned to you, unharmed. You have my word.”

“You’re looking in the wrong place,” Lorik said.

“How can you know that?” snapped King Ricard. “Unless you are somehow behind the abduction.”

“I can assure you I am not,” Lorik said.

“You can assure me of nothing,” King Ricard said angrily, his face turning red and spit flying from his mouth as he shouted.

Lorik raised his hands as the guards drew their weapons.

“I don’t want trouble,” Lorik said.

“Then turn your nag around and ride back to where you came from,” King Ricard ordered.

“I can’t do that,” Lorik said.

“Lorik,” Vera pleaded.

“Listen to the wench,” King Ricard said.

“You sir, are a fool,” Lorik said, his own anger finally erupting from his voice.

The guards moved forward and Lorik drew his swords.

“Lorik no!” shouted Vera, but it was too late.

“Seize him!” Ricard shouted. “Seize them all!”

The guards rode forward, drawing long swords and raising their shields. Lorik threw one leg over his saddle and slid off his horse. The mount shuffled away and Lorik brandished his weapons. Stone didn’t move; he just sat watching Lorys, who was struggling to control his own horse which was turning away from the fight.

As the first guard approached, Lorik lashed out with his sword, hitting the guard’s mount on the side of the head. He turned his sword so that the flat of the blade struck the animal. It fell, knocked senseless by the blow and the rider was pinned under the animal. The next guard to approach Lorik raised his sword and chopped down, but Lorik jumped forward, catching the guard’s blade on one upraised sword, the other stabbing up under the guard’s arm. The guards were armored, with heavy breastplates and overlapping strips of metal covering their shoulder and upper arms, but the underarms were vulnerable. Lorik’s sword tip sliced into the soft flesh of the man’s armpit and the guard’s arm fell useless at his side, his sword falling to the ground as the guard shouted in agony.

There were six guards left, four had taken defensive positions around King Ricard. Of the two left to fight, one was moving his horse toward Lorik, the other was circling around toward Stone and Vera. Stone was still watching Commander Lorys who was pretending that his horse was acting strange and forcing the soldier to not engage. The men who had ridden north with Commander Lorys watched from a short distance away, but without an order to attack, they did nothing to engage in the skirmish before their king.

Lorik had to duck under the slashing blade from the third guard. On his knee, Lorik slammed the butt of his sword into the guard’s horse. The thick pommel struck the horse in its hind leg, causing the beast to stumble. Lorik launched himself up, spinning as he rose, his long, muscled arm extended with his sword blade arcing toward the guard. Lorik twisted his hand at the last minute, so that the flat of the blade clashed against the guard’s helmet. The man toppled from his horse, and Lorik landed on the balls of his feet, ready to attack his next opponent. The guard that had been circling Lorik to close on Stone suddenly looked unsure.

“I could have killed them all,” Lorik snarled. “I will kill anyone else you send against me.”

“I am king of this realm,” Ricard shouted back in anger. “I will not be defied. Kill him!”

The guard turned his horse, but Lorik was already moving. He ran forward, straight toward the king, his massive legs churning as he ran, his swords held in front of him. The guards around the king tried to move forward to intercept Lorik, but before he reached the group, Lorik slid down and slammed the handles of his swords onto the ground. The earth rose like an ocean wave as Lorik’s magical power flowed into the ground. The wave raced ahead of Lorik, the horses of the king’s entourage neighed in terror, then the wave tossed them all into the air.

Stone and Vera watched in awe as King Ricard and all the men with him were thrown from their saddles. Lorik stood, turning his back on the king and walked slowly back toward Vera and Stone. Vyrnon appeared from behind the long column of soldiers with Lorik’s horses. He was in charge of the horses and had seen Lorik’s mount trotting back toward him after Lorik had dismounted to fight. Vyrnon had caught the horse and was leading it forward again, along with the rest of their horses and supplies.

“Your king is looking in the wrong place,” Lorik said to Lorys, who had finally gotten his horse under control. “We are going north. I’ll save the princess if I can.”

Lorys nodded. The final guard had not attacked, instead he hurried to the king’s aid. None of the men with King Ricard were injured, but they all looked terrified at Lorik, who was climbing back into the saddle as Vyrnon held the horse’s reins.

Lorik gave King Ricard a baleful look as he led Stone and Vera around the Baskla ruler. Vyrnon followed several paces behind the others, leading the line of horses in his care. King Ricard didn’t speak, he stood surrounded by his men, his clothes covered in mud. Once Lorik had regained the road on the far side of King Ricard, he spurred his horse into a gallop.

They came to Forxam the next afternoon. Unlike the other kingdoms, Baskla was heavily forested and the terrain was rugged to say the least. Even the broad road that ran south from the capital city into Ortis rose up and down over the steep hills and deep ravines. Forxam was built on the crown of an especially large hill. Much of the forest around the city had been clear cut and terraced for farming. There were homes and shops in the valley around the city, and a large stone wall surrounded the castle.

“Should we go up?” Vera asked as the city came into view.

“No,” Lorik said. “The queen isn’t here.”

“We could rest for the night, resupply,” Stone suggested.

“Alright,” Lorik said. “We’ll need to leave the horses here anyway. But let’s find a place on the far side of the city.”

The road that led north to Forxam turned west once it reached the capital city. The next major town in Baskla was Nockles where an ancient stone bridge crossed the Black River. The road then meandered southwest to Fort Jellar on the border of Yelsia across from Ebbson Keep. North of Forxam, the roads were more like game trails. The forest encroached on all sides, with tree branches often spreading over the road and tree roots pushing up through the hard packed earth in places, making travel hazardous.

Lorik made arrangements for their spare horses to be stabled in a livery in Forxam. Vyrnon was loath to stay behind, but Lorik left him to care for the horses. Stone rented rooms at an inn while Vera bought more food for the journey. Night had fallen by the time everything was settled and although Lorik was anxious to keep moving north, he didn’t mind getting a warm meal. He ate his fill then turned in for the night. Vera and Stone did the same.

The next morning they rode out of the city, it was the first time the three of them had been alone in a long time. Lorik rode ahead, followed by Vera, then Stone. There were places that the trail was only wide enough for the group to ride single file, and the weather grew worse. It snowed, and everything was wet. Vera developed a cough and Lorik slowed his pace to keep from pushing her too hard. It was difficult finding wood that was dry enough to burn, but Lorik made sure they had a fire each night and that it burned through the long hours to keep Vera warm.

Lorik wasn’t sure where he was going or what they were going to find. The pull of the darkness grew stronger and Lorik led them off the trail. They were forced to make their way through the forest which was difficult. The leaves had fallen off the trees; the wet trunks looked black against the gray sky and snowy ground. The ravines were steep and slick, the hills rugged and treacherous to scale, but Lorik pushed on. They were forced to leave the horses behind as they meandered up and down the unforgiving countryside.

It took four days of difficult travel but finally they came to the top of a hill and Lorik called for them to stop.

“We’ll make camp here,” he said, his heart pounding as he stood looking out over a wide valley.

“Camp already?” Stone said. “You’re getting soft old man.”

“Don’t tease him,” Vera said. She was clearly exhausted. “I could use a break.”

“Why here?” Stone asked.

“Because the queen is being held right down there,” he pointed.

At first all Stone and Vera could see was more rugged landscape. There was a hill and vine covered rock formations. It was as desolate as the rest of the countryside they’d fought through since leaving Forxam.

“I don’t see anything,” Vera said.

“Take your time,” Lorik replied.

He turned away and began gathering wood for a fire. Vera and Stone continued looking and slowly they began to make out what lay in the valley.

“Is that castle ruins?” Vera asked.

“Where?”

“Right over there, that big mound.”

“That’s just a hill,” Stone said.

“I don’t think so, it’s made of stone.”

“There are rocks everywhere here,” Stone said.

“And those outcroppings are old buildings,” she continued.

“I don’t see it.”

“You will soon enough,” Lorik said. “We’re going down there in the morning.”

“Why wait,” Stone asked.

“Because there’s a lot of dark magic in this place,” Lorik explained. “I think it’s best if we proceed with the maximum amount of daylight.”

“You really think Queen Issalyn and the princess are down there?” Vera asked, moving closer to Lorik as he prepared the sticks and leaves he’d gathered for a fire.