The flow of soldiers had slowed significantly, and the woman
looked back to see Dark Tidings kick another man off his blade. Only the green
crackling lightning was visible in the darkness. From the slight luminescence
she could see that the cave entrance had become congested with the bodies of the
fallen soldiers. It seemed that few were any longer willing to climb over their
comrade’s bodies to face the deadly wraith.
Dark Tidings turned and rushed to her side as soon as he was
certain the tide had ebbed. He looked her over quickly and then crouched to
check the young man at her feet. Yserria was suddenly ashamed that she had not
done so already, but she had been caught up in the fear and energy of the
battle. A thought suddenly occurred to her.
“The crossbowman!” she nearly shouted.
“Dead,” Dark Tidings replied with a quick motion to show the
man with a throwing dagger through his neck.
“And…him?” she asked tentatively, motioning to the young
noble on the ground.
“Also dead,” said the wraith.
“W-…h-…No!
How
?” Yserria wailed as her voice choked.
Dark Tidings turned the body in the darkness and said, “When
he dove at you, he opened himself to a strike from the side. The sword thrust
that was meant for you entered under his ribs and struck straight into his heart.”
Yserria whimpered as she dropped to her knees. They could
hear an officer barking orders back in the cave. The soldiers were attempting
to clear some of the bodies as they regrouped. “We must be gone,” Dark Tidings
said.
“We cannot leave him here,” the young woman protested.
Dark Tidings cleaned the blood from the young man’s sword
and slipped it back into its scabbard. He grunted as he hefted the young man’s
body onto his back and across his shoulders. It was then that Yserria noticed
her liege was injured.
“You are hurt!” she exclaimed.
“I was distracted and failed to avoid a crossbow bolt. I
took one to the shoulder. I will live,” the wraith said quietly. When Rezkin
had glanced back and saw Palis go down, he had been suddenly overcome with
feelings he could not comprehend. Even now they were threatening to strangle
him. The tightness in his chest simply would not dissipate, and it felt as
though he was struggling to breathe. As he carried Palis to the water, he
gripped the young man’s arm and leg more tightly, as if the action alone might
make the young man breathe again. Of course, he knew it would not, but this
death seemed somehow so much more
final
than all the others.
Dark Tidings and Yserria splashed through the surf toward
the approaching longboat. When the water became too deep, they began to swim.
The water pulled at Rezkin’s armor and weapons, but he felt a surge of the
familiar battle energy, and his muscles and stamina were strengthened.
The warrior discovered one unintended benefit of his mask
and Wesson’s magic. It turned out the breathing holes the mage had enchanted to
draw in air would
only
draw in air, including air from the water. Since
the mask was form-fitted to his face and enchanted not to fall off, it was
essentially sealed, and he was able to breath underwater while wearing the
mask. This revelation might have been more marvelous if Rezkin had not been
towing the body of his deceased friend. As it was, he could barely clear the
images of Palis’s smile and exuberance enough to see through the darkness
before him.
Two members of the ship’s crew were rowing the longboat,
which carried both Brandt and Kai. Kai leaned over to assist Yserria into the
vessel as Brandt grasped frantically at his fallen friend.
“Palis? What? NO! Is he okay? Palis!” the young noble
prattled as he struggled to pull the sodden body into the boat. Kai and Yserria
shifted to the other side as Dark Tidings heaved his own burdensome weight into
the rocking vessel.
Brandt jerked up after finally realizing Palis was truly
dead. He launched himself at Dark Tidings. The warrior had not yet gained his
feet and sat propped against the side of the boat as he held the young man at
bay.
“This is YOUR fault!” Brandt shouted as he hammered his
fists into the king.
Dark Tidings took the hits and made no move against the
angry, grieving young man. Eventually, the barrage subsided. The warrior
gripped Brandt’s shoulders firmly as the young man’s head lowered and fell into
the king’s chest as he wept. The energy rush of battle bled out, and Palis’s
death finally struck Yserria hard. The young woman broke into great heaving
sobs all over the burly striker.
The longboat reached the ship, and the crew and passengers
held torches over the side in an attempt to see the new arrivals far below. The
distance was too great for the light to shine clearly, and Rezkin decided he
had best ascend first to inform everyone of Palis’s passing. When he reached
the deck, people shied away from him. Although he had been a beacon of strength
and safety during their flight, he was now the strange, dark wraith who had
defeated every one of the tournament’s best swordsmen and warriors and killed
five strikers in a single battle.
Dark Tidings strode purposefully over to Malcius who looked
on anxiously. From beneath his heavy, wet cloak Rezkin withdrew the fallen
young man’s sword and scabbard. Malcius’s face drained to match the pale light
of the moon. His eyes did not leave the sword as Dark Tidings held it in
offering.
“Lord Palis died a warrior’s death, a hero’s death. His
sacrifice was of the highest honor,” the wraith intoned.
Frisha gasped and swayed as tears sprung to her eyes. Tam
caught the young woman and held her close as she began to weep.
Malcius backed away from the proffered sword. “No,” he said
adamantly shaking his head. “Give it to Palis. It is his sword.”
“Lord Malcius, your brother is dead,” Dark Tidings said
firmly but with as much compassion as could be conveyed through the disturbing
voice and mask.
Frisha was comforted by her best friend, but Tam was not who
she felt she needed at this moment. She wanted to feel safe.
“Where is Rezkin?” she blurted between sobs.
Malcius rounded on Dark Tidings with anger. “Yes! Where is
Rezkin? He is sworn to protect us! He was supposed to protect Palis! Where is
he?”
“Malcius, no! That is not what I meant. This is not Rezkin’s
fault!” Frisha protested.
“No? Then whose? Is this
your
fault?” he directed at
the dark warrior. “You were there on the beach.
You
,
who can take
on an army! You should have protected him!”
Rezkin felt a burst of anger, but not at the accusing young
man. His anger was directed at himself for not doing just as Malcius said. “I
did
protect him. Lord Palis was safely away. He should have been back at the ship
with Lord Brandt,” he said pointing at the young man who had just boarded the
ship. “Mistress Yserria turned back to fight at my side, and Lord Palis
returned to fight, rather than flee. He refused to leave Mistress Yserria
behind. In the end, he gave his life to protect the woman he loved. I will not
have you soil his honor by blaming his death on my inability to save him! He
could have been safe, but he chose the path of a warrior and died as such!”
“You are saying that my brother died for that…that…
commoner?
”
Malcius exclaimed pointing at the young woman Brandt was helping over the rail.
Yserria’s face scrunched up, and she began weeping anew.
A couple of crew members were now hoisting at the rope that
would bring the body aboard, and Malcius shoved through the crowd to reach over
the side and grab at his brother. When Palis was finally laid out on the wooden
planks, Malcius leaned over him and released a bellow of bereavement from deep
within a bitter soul. Someone must have thought to inform Shiela, for a moment
later she came bursting from the cabin with more haste than Rezkin had ever
seen in the young woman. She threw herself onto her fallen brother and pounded
on his chest.
“No! Wake up, Palis! Wake up!” she wailed. For once she had
not a care for the seawater and blood that soaked through her rumpled gown.
Frisha knelt beside her cousin and wrapped the young woman in her arms, and
both ladies cried for their loss.
While the family was grieving over the fallen hero, the
ship’s crew was working around everyone the best they could to raise the
longboats and get the ship under sail. The captain eventually approached Kai,
who had been his contact up until this point, and informed the striker that
they needed the deck cleared to work. The captain attempted to hide his
surprise when the striker deferred to the dark warrior’s command.
“Move Palis’s body to where it can be prepared for burial at
sea. Gather the strikers and our traveling companions in the mess, including
the guards and army personnel with whom we traveled. Make sure the others are
secure in the decks below. I saw Healer Jespia and one other healer among the
refugees. Did they make it aboard?”
“Yes, your majesty,” the striker replied. The captain’s eyes
widened, but he said nothing.
The black wraith said, “Ensure they have anything they need
to treat the injured and rescued slaves. Journeyman Wesson can provide them
with any materials from my supplies that they require.”
“As you command, your majesty,” the striker replied as he
saluted. “Ah, perhaps you should have that looked at,” he said with a nod
toward the crossbow bolt protruding from Rezkin’s shoulder.”
“Send for Journeyman Wesson and Mistress Reaylin,” he
ordered.
“Yes, your majesty,” Kai repeated with a bow. Striker Roark
saluted as well and then followed in Kai’s wake to assist in carrying out the
orders.
“Captain, we may encounter some resistance beyond the cove.
You should prepare for battle,” Dark Tidings stated.
“Ah, yes, ah…I take it you are the one called Dark Tidings?
They say you are the True King and that King Caydean is a usurper,” the captain
said uncertainly.
Dark Tidings stared at the captain. “You are well-spoken for
a captain of a merchant vessel,” the warrior observed.
“Captain Merk Estadd. I hail from a noble House,” the
captain replied. “I was once a commander in the King’s Navy but was relieved of
my command after King Bordran died. I disagreed with some of the changes taking
place and voiced my opinions to the wrong ears.”
Of course
, Rezkin thought to himself. Kai was at it
again. He was a cunning man, well suited for his position as a striker. He
chose his vessel and captain carefully. “Very well, Captain, at this moment I
care not what you believe. I only care about getting these people away from
this island to a place where they will be safe. You may choose to ignore the
politics and simply carry out your duties as ship’s captain, or you may choose
to serve me as a loyal subject. What I will not abide is you working against me
or questioning my orders.”
“Yes, your majesty,” the captain acquiesced with a
thoughtful look. “Our heading, your majesty?”
“The Yeltin Isles, Captain,” replied the dark wraith. “You
may stop in Channería for supplies and to release any refugees who desire to
depart at that point.”
“Yes, your majesty,” the captain said with a salute and then
stomped off barking orders to his crew.
Wesson and Reaylin arrived together. Both were upset, and
Reaylin was particularly irritable since she was trying to hide the fact that
she had been crying. The young mage knew Dark Tidings was Rezkin, of course,
but Reaylin nearly froze in the dark wraith’s presence.
“Your majesty,” the young rebel uttered as she dropped to
her knees and practically prostrated herself before him.
“Rise,” Rezkin ordered, and she scurried to her feet eager
to do her king’s bidding. “I require your assistance,” the dark wraith intoned.
“Of course, your majesty,” Reaylin said with a proud grin as
she gripped the hilt of her sword.
“With this,” he added as he gestured to the offending crossbow
bolt.
The young woman’s eyes widened upon seeing the embedded
projectile. With Dark Tidings’ black attire and the poor lighting of the
torches, the dark iron bolt had been nearly invisible. “Oh,” she eloquently
responded. Reaylin was obviously unhappy with having to perform the healing,
but she did not protest and was determined to serve her king.
When the healing was finished, Rezkin motioned for Striker
Shezar to follow him to a remote corner of the ship where they could not be
overheard. He questioned Shezar relentlessly for about twenty minutes. Some of
the news was known to him, but much of it was new and disturbing. He would need
to spend much, much more time questioning the strikers, but for now, he had to
meet with his traveling companions.
The mess was packed with people. They sat in chairs and
leaned on tables and against the walls. Dark Tidings nodded to Wesson who did
his best to shield the room from prying ears. Malcius, Shiela, Brandt and
Frisha all sat with puffy, red eyes. A morose Tieran was present, as well as
Baron Fendendril and his son. Tam, Reaylin, Jimson, Drascon and Millins were
seated to one side. The Jebai, Nirius, and Nasque House Guards were all
present. The strikers stood lined up along the wall near the doorway as if to prevent
anyone from escape. The mood was tense and somber.
Rezkin sent Kai to ensure everything was going as planned
and that the captain was carrying out his orders. Dark Tidings stood to one
side of the room, and everyone turned to face him. “Where are you taking us?”
Malcius spat. “Are we now to be your hostages?” he asked with a nod toward the
strikers.
“Malcius, you speak out of turn,” Tieran scolded. “You are
addressing the king.”
“The king? Caydean is the king, and it is because of
him
,”
he said pointing accusingly at the wraith, “that the king attacked the
tournament and Palis died!”
Striker Shezar interrupted and said, “That is not true.
Caydean had plans to attack the tournament long before rumor of the True King
surfaced. You and your brother had the chance to leave Dark Tidings’ company in
Skutton. You both made your choice.”
“Enough,” Dark Tidings’ thundered. “Lord Malcius’s outbursts
may be excused. His shock over his brother’s death is affecting his thoughts
and mood. I apologize, Lord Malcius and Lady Shiela, that I cannot simply allow
you to mourn properly at this moment. We have important news that you must
know. Significant events have occurred beyond those in Skutton.”
Malcius clenched his fists and jaw and glared at Dark Tidings
with watery eyes. He nodded once for the man to continue.
“Firstly, Caydean has replaced the Council of Lords in its
entirety. All of the former members who spoke against him have been designated
traitors. Not only are they officially divested of their titles and lands, but
the Heads and their families are to be executed if they are not already dead.”
Shocked gasps and outbursts of discontent flooded the room. Everyone wanted
news of his or her family’s wellbeing and status in the kingdom.