The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight (33 page)

Molly opened the cabin door, noticing that Jatel was on the floor covering his eyes.

He did not look good.

"So," Molly whispered, "It has started."

Jatel looked up at Molly. His eyes were now fully blood-red.

"What is wrong with my eyes?" Jatel asked.

"They have entered the blood fever," Molly explained, helping Jatel up on his feet. "Do not worry. They will turn back to normal after your first feeding."

"Feeding?"

"You are becoming like me, Jatel." Molly's voice rang with a pure sadness.

"I'm hungry," the squire said, his voice both shaky and low.

"I know, Jatel."

There seemed to be a magnetic force pulling Jatel towards Molly. He seemed to hang on her every word - her every movement.

"Why do you affect me so?" Jatel finally asked.

"Because, in the scheme of things, I am now your master. Or, if you prefer, your mentor. If you cross and stay this way, we will be bonded throughout eternity."

"Then, let us hope my Ka-Ron succeeds," Jatel paused, swallowing nervously. "I did not mean that the way it sounded."

"I know, Jatel." The vampire softly laughed.

Jatel was going through "the pains." This was the most serious phase of the vampiric change. This was when the mortal body started to shut down, requiring only the elementary system to help maintain nourishment and waste management. All other systems would one by one start to retire, relying on magic and things most foul to keep the body going.

Jatel started to shake uncontrollably.

A flash of agonizing pain coursed through his body.

In his frustration, the squire reached out and grabbed onto anything he could to help subsidize the pain.

"Uh?" Molly said, uncomfortably.

Opening his eyes. Jatel suddenly realized that he had grabbed one of the vampire's breasts.

"Molly! I'm so sorry." Jatel's eyes bugged open like a startled school boy's.

"That's&that's all right, Jatel."

Both stood frozen for quite some time.

"Jatel?"

"Yes?"

"Let go of my tit, please."

Jatel pulled away from Molly as if his hand were on fire.

"Sorry."

"Don't mention it."

The cabin door opened. Ka-Ron peeked in.

"Ka-Ron!" both Molly and Jatel said in unison.

The knight walked in, giving the vampire a harsh but controlled stare. She could sense an uneasiness as she entered, but could not understand it. Jatel uncharacteristically placed both his hands behind his back.

Molly's amused and awkward stare at the squire did not go unnoticed.

"Keeth has informed me that you are providing medical care for my squire."

"That is correct," Molly showed Ka-Ron her bag of oils, spices, and spells. "He has entered the second phase."

Ka-Ron reacted to Jatel's eyes.

"Don't be alarmed, Ka-Ron," Molly tried to calm the knight. "They will soon change back to their normal coloring. I went through the same phase. As terrible as they may seem, there is no discomfort."

"But I heard Jatel cry out."

Molly shook her head in agreement. "There is some pain, but it is&bearable."

"What can I do?" Ka-Ron asked, her eyes softening.

"You can destroy Count Voslow in three suns," Molly said. "That is Jatel's only hope at a normal life."

"Done, my lady."

Molly turned, arranging the oils and spices on the cabin's bed. Ka-Ron placed a hand upon the vampire's shoulder.

"I was wrong about you."

Molly looked up at Ka-Ron with wide eyes. She was so surprised that she could not bring herself to speak.

"Thank you for helping my squire."

Molly, slowly, shook her head in thanks.

"What if we fail?" Molly finally brought herself to say.

Ka-Ron didn't answer. However, there was a dark finality resting in the back of her eyes, which seemed to speak volumes. Molly's vampiristic instincts informed her that if Jatel fully crossed over, and if Voslow were still alive, Molly would not live to see another moon rise.

"Now, how does that spell go?"

Keeth stood at the ship's bow, trying his best to remember an ancient protection spell. He had most of it in mind, but there were subtle hand movements that went with the equations and paradoxes, that could provide ample barriers against all incoming forces. Unfortunatly for him, it had been several seasons since he had used it, let alone kept it in mind.

"Think hard, wizard!" Dorian suggested. The dwarf sat by a fire, doing what he could to sharpen up his ax. "We shall have need of all help, I fear."

While Jatel was going through his own hell, the men of the
Argo
prepared to enter theirs. Each did what he could.

"Whatever you provide, sir, will be appreciated." Rohan was busy assembling new arrows for his bow.

Again, Keeth noticed the dwarf giving Rohan a curious stare.

"It is my intent to help you along with all that I have," the wizard promised.

Both elf and dwarf shook their heads in praise.

"I offer my sword up!"

All eyes turned to En-Don, who, dressed in his mother's armor, looked the part of a knight-errant.

The bow of the ship filled with controlled laughter.

"What do you know of war, boy?" The sarcasm dripping from Rohan's words was thick.

En-Don smirked, trying his best to control the hurt flashing across his face. Life and the emotions which came with it were still new to him. To help hide his uncertainty, the young man pulled out his mother's sword and began sharpening its blade.

"I know nothing of war, elf," En-Don agreed. Anger freighted the young man's voice, but to his credit, he stayed focused upon his blade. "But I know enough about honor to compensate."

"Well said, sir!" Keeth added. The wizard retreated as fast as he had given his opinion, returning to his little mind puzzle.

"You have been alive for less than a phase, little man," Rohan rose to his feet. His cold elfin eyes focused unquestionably upon En-Don. "What would you know of honor?"

"Rohan?"

"Dear sir?"

It was obvious to Rohan that his comments did not set well with his other comrades. En-Don was new to the world. That was a fact no one could deny. But to place such faith in an untried being was foolhardy.

"You question my abilities?" En-Don asked, still not taking his eyes off his mother's blade.

"I question any child who thinks he can rush into war, just to play at soldiering."

Dorian grunted and closed his eyes.

Keeth turned away, paying way too much attention toward his spell-making.

Rohan realized he had made a mistake.

En-Don stopped sharpening his blade. "I understand your doubt, sir. But, be assured, that through powers that even I cannot understand, I am quite capable with a blade, and I am no stranger to the arts of war."

"You barely understand the concept of the color blue, let alone the taking of another's life." The elf's features turned hard.

En-Don rose from his seat.

"Now, fellas, let's not do anything hasty!" Dorian stated. Worry and concern clearly projected from the dwarf's face. "Rohan, remember, we are these people's guests. It is not our right to cause more havoc than havoc can do on its own."

The elf's face remained as cold and mysterious as it always had. However, upon one private moment, Dorian saw Rohan give him a quick glance, and then, quite slowly, quite calmly, the elf winked at him.

The dwarf relaxed.

He understood.

"War is very serious business, my boy." Rohan continued, glancing up into En-Don's challenging stature. "I have no stock in those who talk bravery while never having tasted from its vineyards."

En-Don's face turned hard.

"Perhaps I could learn something from the winemaster?"

Subtly, Rohan started to smirk.

"Come, young one! Let us stomp some grapes."

Both men took out their swords.

"Show me!" Rohan challenged.

The elf took up the high ground on deck. That was the first thing En-Don had observed. He did not know how he knew, but he did seem to know that was a bad thing.

"I do not wish to hurt you, Rohan."

"Pain is life, my friend."

"Then, we shall have at it!"

En-Don rushed forward, slamming his mother's blade into that of the elf's.

Rohan closed his eyes, and prepared himself fully for the force of the blow. No fool himself, he knew, just by En-Don's size, that the force of his attack would be a respectable one. As their swords made contact, the elf was startled - he slid back a good foothold!

"How am I doing so far?" En-Don inquired.

"Fair," Rohan barely whispered.

En-Don knew that he had knocked the wind from his friend, but some unknown knowledge told him not to count upon such a thing. There was a certain flinch growing upon the elf's right cheek that seemed to speak volumes to the boy.

Suddenly, Rohan's eyes blazed open.

"Oh, oh," was all En-Don could bring himself to say.

The elf ducked down, barely being missed by En-Don's counter attack. Rushing forward, Rohan kicked at En-Don's knees, knocking the young man to the deck. En-Don had only one move - perform the Illium thrust guard.

"Giving up?" Rohan gloated. The elf's breathing showed his fatigue. "So soon?"

"Idoshiansdo not give up, Rohan."

The elf raised his blade.

En-Don took action.

The young man instantly went toward the ground, rocking his body in a counter-clockwise maneuver. As he hit midpoint, he switched his sword to his weaker hand. In doing this, the blade became reversed - its sharp end facing En-Don.

"Be careful not to kill the child, Rohan," Dorian shouted.

Rohan looked toward the dwarf.

En-Don saw his chance.

In a lightening flash of steel, En-Don jumped to his feet, swinging his sword to stop just near the elf's main arteries in his neck. If En-Don had not turned his mother's sword, he would have successfully beheaded the elf.

"Hold!" Rohan shouted. The elf's eyes were wide and concentrated quite hard upon the shaking blade at his neck. "You have won the day."

En-Don relaxed. He bowed his head in respect to the elf's own skill. Rohan was not an easy warrior to beat.

"Will the wine master concede that I am from a good vintage?"

"I concede," Rohan stated, wiping sweat from his brow. "That magic, like science, seems to have its own system of justice"

"What do you mean?" En-Don's eyes turned hard.

"Since your mother cannot use her skills, trapped in the body of a woman, what better justice is there, than allowing her magical offspring the ability to protect himself from the physical?"

"Well said!" Keeth added.

Dorian rushed to his friend's aid, handing Rohan a cup of water and a small rag with which to refresh himself. There was an urgency in the dwarf's actions which showed all, especially Rohan, that Dorian was greatly concerned.

"Do not think less of yourself, elf," Dorian said, his face gleaming with pride. "You did well. As you stated, En-Don is of magical beginnings."

"Many thanks, dwarf."

Again, En-Don and Rohan stood toe-to-toe.

"En-Don, son of Jatel and Ka-Ron, I would be honored to fight at your side, should such a time arise."

Both shook hands.

"This is a good thing." the wizard meekly said. In his joy, Keeth knocked Dorian to the deck and patted the small dwarf on the back.

"Dear wizard!" Dorian yelled, finding it quite difficult to wobble his way back to a good footing.

Everyone helped Dorian up.

None were able to keep a straight face.

En-Don beamed with pride.

Ka-Ron found that she could not concentrate. From time to time, she kept looking back up toward the
Argo,
deeply concerned. Her whole body was in silent rebellion. This was all wrong! She could not explain why she felt this way. All the knight could understand was that she did not like leaving her son behind.

"He is in good hands, Ka-Ron," Jatel whispered.

"I know," Ka-Ron stated, but her eyes clearly held within them the silent pain of separation. "I just don't like leaving him with&her."

"We will be back before you know it, sire."

All this while still traveling down the
Argo's
gangplank.

The knight's fears were silently reinforced with friendly pats on the back by Keeth, Rohan, and Dorian. All could sense her inner pain and frustration, and to an extent, Ka-Ron was starting to understand Kai's pain. Her leaving En-Don alone with a practical stranger was something she had to do if she were to help Jatel out of his situation, but still, the pain was there.

"I fear he will miss us, Jatel."

"Naturally." the squire agreed. "Life causes these separations so that we may learn to treasure the times we are together."

Ka-Ron smiled upon hearing her squire's words.

"When did you become such a philosopher?"

"When I became a father."

Ka-Ron embraced his friend and lover, side-hugging him.

When choosing a place to land, Keeth could not have picked a more foreboding or interesting place. The
Argo
was deep within a bog. Swampy waters had caused the ship to sink almost to normal hull level, if the ship were in floating mode. However, the
Argo's
landing pods were fully extended, and due to the soft muddy surface, had slowly sunk to what appeared to be normal seagoing conditions.

Around the course of the bog, between the many rotting corpses of animals and unfortunate travelers, amongst the moldy tree trunks, weeds, and fungi, there appeared to be remnants of a once vital civilization. Little did these new arrivals realize they had parked in the middle of what used to be the royal sailing pond of Mull Garden. These bogs used to be the main waterways between this dead kingdom and the rest of the Nown world.

Crumbling granite walls, long overgrown and forgotten, peeked out every so often, reminding all here that there used to be "something." And nothing was more interesting or depressing as the reminder that things do fall apart, if given the time and opportunity to do so.