Lorik The Defender (The Lorik Trilogy) (5 page)

Stone had expected to crash hard into the beast, but the creature’s neck was soft and it padded his fall. He was also sprayed with hot blood as the spear punctured the beast’s jugular vein. The creature’s first instinct was to whip its head back around, but the spear was driven too deep into its neck. The pain made it roll instead, away from Stone and toward Lorik.

It writhed on its back as Stone and Lorik moved away in the darkness. They moved toward each other, the horse still galloping away to the south.

“What is that thing?” Stone asked.

“I have no idea,” Lorik said. “But I hope it’s dead.”

Lorik and Stone returned to the camp and the volunteers doubled up on guard duty. Fortunately, no more attacks came that night. When the sun rose, Lorik returned to the huge beast he’d fought in the darkness. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. The creature was on its back and had died at some point in the night. Blood seemed to have turned the area around the creature into a disgusting bog.

“What are we are doing out here?” Stone asked. He refused to let Lorik do anything alone.

“
I’m
looking for my swords. I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go off on your own. We’d all be dead now if it weren’t for you.”

“So you think I need a bodyguard?”

“I think we need to be cautious.”

“What we really need is to get the refugees moving.”

“Vera can do that,” Stone said. “Besides, I wanted a look at our handiwork.”

“It’s not much to look at, is it?” Lorik said as they walked around the huge beast.

“I don’t remember the wizard saying anything about shaggy monsters,” Stone said.

“That’s because he didn’t,” Lorik said. “He must not have known about them.”

“That’s not a comforting thought,” Stone said. “I wish we had a way to scout ahead and behind.”

“And a way to move these people along. We won’t be safe until we get back to the border.”

They waded through the bloody bog. One sword was visible, the pommel barely sticking out of the furry beast’s side. Lorik took hold of his sword and tugged. He had to wrench the weapon up and down before finally putting one foot on the creature to pull his sword free.

“Where’s the other one?” Stone asked.

Lorik smiled. Then he hacked into the creature’s side. Blood and water came pouring out, along with a wretched smell.

“What are you doing?” Stone said, jumping back to avoid the foul excretion.

“The other sword is in the beast’s back,” Lorik said. “I’ll have to cut my way in.”

“I’d cut my losses,” Stone said.

“That’s a famous sword. It’s part of a matching set. I’ll not just leave it behind.”

“Fine, but I’m standing over there,” he pointed away from the beast.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to do things alone.”

“Sorry, I’m drawing a line at digging my way into a monster’s carcass.”

Lorik laughed and then kept cutting. He had to angle his cuts, eventually cutting out a wedge of flesh. The muscle was thick, tough, and bloody. He was soon covered in sticky, black blood. The bones were almost as hard as iron, but he managed to work between them. Half an hour later, he emerged from the carcass with his other sword.

“Done!” he said happily.

“Don’t get too close,” Stone said. “I can smell you from here.”

They walked back toward the camp. The refugees were already moving north and Lorik’s volunteers were spread out behind them, leading their horses. Stone and Lorik passed by the bodies of the Leffers. The spears had been removed and the bodies were already bloating. The sickly sweet smell of rotting flesh filled the air. They walked for over an hour before coming to a small stream that flowed through the grassy plain. Lorik stripped out of his clothes, which Stone proceeded to scrub against the rocks of the riverbed.

The water was cold, but Lorik climbed in anyway. The stream was barely big enough to cover Lorik. He had to lay down in the middle of the riverbed to submerge himself. He held his breath and scrubbed his hair and beard. Then he sat up and scrubbed his body clean. He was shivering by the time he got out of the water, but there was nothing he could do but put on his cold, wet clothes and run to warm up.

They jogged for the next hour. Stone was too tired to keep going, even though Lorik could have run all day. They slowed to walk; the refugees were just ahead of them. They soon stopped to rest and have a quick meal. Then they pushed on. Lorik insisted they travel until dark. There was no place to make camp, so they huddled together on the open plain. Ortis was a kingdom of flat plains that turned to rolling, grassy hills the farther north one traveled. Their supper was dry rations. Some of the refugees had supplies, others had nothing at all. Lorik and Vera shared the meager supplies they had gathered. The volunteers spread out once again and this time Lorik slept through the first watch.

One of his volunteers shook him gently a few hours before dawn.

“Sorry to wake you,” the man said.

“No,” Lorik said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and standing up. “You did the right thing. I’m fine.”

“I can finish the night, sir.”

“No, I only need a few hours’ sleep,” Lorik explained. “I’ll be fine. You rest.”

“Yes, sir, thank you.”

The man promptly wrapped his cloak around himself and went to sleep right where he’d been standing. Lorik grinned; it was obvious the man was exhausted, yet he had offered to let Lorik rest. He was proud of his small group of volunteers. They were less than three dozen, yet they did everything he asked of them without complaining. They had risked their lives more than once to save total strangers, but they had a sense of the importance of what they were doing. The king and his soldiers were gone, now only small bands like Lorik’s volunteers offered the people of Ortis protection.

The next morning, Stone and Lorik once again took up their position at the rear of the group, but Queen Issalyn joined them with her cadre of shieldmaidens.

“You saved us once again,” Issalyn said.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Lorik said.

“The men on the city walls were not nearly as efficient or as brave as you have been,” Issalyn said. “We would have been scattered and probably slaughtered if not for you.”

“It is our duty to protect the people of Ortis.”

“A duty you took upon yourselves,” Issalyn said. “That kind of honor has been rare in Ortis of late.”

“I don’t know about all that,” Lorik said. “We have a good group of volunteers. Stone is a skilled warrior. And so far, we’ve been lucky. There haven’t been enough of the monsters to overcome us yet.”

“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.