The Runaway King (21 page)

I
t was the pain that eventually awoke me. The shock of Roden’s strike had sent me into unconsciousness, but that had gradually evolved into a restless and unproductive sleep. The chains around my wrists were too high on the wall to allow me to sit on the ground, so when I tried to balance on my injured leg and adjust my weight, a bolt of pain tore through me. My eyes flew open and I cried out. When I focused on Erick and Fink, I saw them standing on their end of the room, staring at me in horror.

“How long was I out?” I mumbled. Neither of them responded so I focused directly on Fink. “How long?”

“A couple of hours maybe.”

It wasn’t quite dark yet. From the angle of the sun coming through the window, I guessed there were still another two or three hours until sundown. Not much time.

“How does it feel?” Fink asked.

“Like butterfly kisses, what do you think?” I leaned my head back to stretch out the muscles, but it did little good. My neck had been in one position for so long, it was now angrily protesting my attempts to use it.

“Why did you talk to Roden like that?” Erick asked, clearly still upset with me.

“I made a mistake.” My hope had been that if I got Roden angry enough, he would challenge me to another sword fight. Clearly, that plan hadn’t worked.

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Erick said. “You were a king, you had everything. Now you’ve sunk to our level and you’ll lose everything. Not only your life, but he’ll come for your kingdom too.”

“You’re wrong on all counts,” I said. “I’m still a king. My title isn’t determined by my crown; it’s in my blood. Gregor is imprisoned here, so at least for now, my kingdom is safe.” Then I looked directly at Erick. “And my stature never sank when I joined you. You may be a thief, but there is far more good in you than bad. I’m better off for knowing you.”

Erick’s eyes fluttered and he finally looked down, silent.

I turned my attention to the more immediate problem. Roden wasn’t clear about when the supper would begin tonight, but without question I was running out of time.

The complication was that Imogen’s pin was in the boot of my leg that Roden had broken. I made a vain attempt to wiggle the foot, even though I knew it would hurt and would be useless in helping to remove the boot. I couldn’t get my hands down as far as my feet to pull it off, and even if I could, the manacle around my ankle made the boot tighter than usual.

I nodded at Fink, calling him to come. He hesitated and I said, “Don’t make me beg for help. Come here.”

Fink glanced at Erick, who didn’t acknowledge him, then crossed the room to me.

“As gently as you can, you’ve got to get this boot off my foot.” I winced as I spoke and Fink paled. To encourage him, I added, “They’re a little big on me anyway, so they should slide easily. Just go slow.”

Fink knelt beside the injured leg. I couldn’t do anything to lift it for him, and when he raised it slightly and tugged at the heel, I cried out and told him to stop.

“New plan,” I said between shallow breaths. “Try rolling the leather down.”

Fink touched the top of my boot. He pulled at the sides, and the pain flared inside me, but this time it was him who gave up. “I think that’d be worse than just pulling it off,” he said.

Still on his side of the room, Erick muttered something to himself, then stood. Without looking at me, he reached into his own boot and pulled out a small folding knife. “Back off,” he ordered Fink, who quickly obeyed. Then he went down on one knee and began cutting the leather down its side. It was a slow process since the knife was so small, and every time he moved my leg even by a hair, I gasped and tried not to pass out again.

When he reached the sole, it was a comparatively easy thing to lift the rest of the boot free from my foot.

“There’s a pin in it,” I said between breaths. “Give it to me.”

“Let me do it,” Fink said. “You can’t reach the lock on those chains anyway.”

Fink widened the pin to its full length, then slid one end into the manacles locked around my wrists. He toyed with it until he found the lever he was seeking. With one careful push, there was a clicking sound and the manacles pulled apart. He next went to work on the ankle manacles, and when they unlocked he was very careful in removing them.

Free from the chains, I crumpled to the ground. It hurt to fall, but my good leg was too tired to lower me more carefully.

“What now?” Fink asked. “The lock is on the other side of the door. We’re still stuck in this room.”

I glanced up at the window, grateful for the first time that I had recently become so thin. Erick stared at me, incredulous. “Do you know where we are? More than a stone’s throw above the beach and nearly the same below the cliff top. There’s nowhere to go.”

Fink pressed close to Erick’s side and whispered to him, “Roden said he could climb.”

“Up a cliff?” Erick shook his head. “Maybe with two good legs, but not one.”

“Punch out the glass,” I said to Fink. “Then pray there’s no one below us.”

Fink held out his hand for Erick’s knife. Erick sighed loudly before handing it over. Then Fink grabbed the chair from the corner to stand on while he broke out the glass. We waited in silence for the sound of footsteps outside the door, but none came. Roden would want a big dinner. I was sure he was keeping everyone occupied.

When the window was cleared, I gestured to the chair on which Fink had stood. “Now break that. Don’t split the longer pieces.”

“A leg brace,” Erick muttered. “Yeah, that’ll make all the difference.” But he went to the chair anyway and began hitting it against the wall.

While he did, I asked Fink to remove his shirt and rip it into the longest lengths he could. Then I laid my head flat on the floor and closed my eyes. Roden was going to regret having done this to me; I’d make sure of it.

With one final hit, the last joints of the chair fell apart. Most of it came to pieces in unusable sections, but Erick was able to break away enough to end up with one straight piece of wood nearly as long as my entire leg. I told him to break it even more. I needed to bend my knee if I was going to keep my balance.

They did the rest of the work without any further instructions. Fink held a piece of wood both on the inside and outside of my leg while Erick tied the strips from the shirt as tightly as he could. I hated that I needed their help, all the while knowing this would’ve been impossible to do on my own. My leg still pulsed with pain, but once it was braced with the wood, it was more manageable than before. I stood and tested my stance on the floor. I made no effort to put weight on my injured leg, thankful that years of climbing and walking on narrow ledges had given me good balance and strength.

“Now scoot the table beneath the window,” I said.

“You’ve got no chance on that cliff,” Erick said.

“I’d rather fall from that cliff than wait here to be killed!” The fear I felt came out sounding like anger. “Now help me. Please!”

“You’re a complete fool,” Erick said.

“So I’ve been told.” I stared at each of them a moment and said, “I think I’ll be discovered before anyone comes here looking for me. But in case I’m wrong about that, you should come up with a story to explain how I escaped here on my own.”

“I knew I’d hate you before this was over,” Erick said.

“I’m sorry you do. You’re one of only a few people who I’d have preferred to like me.”

Erick looked down at his knife, sighed heavily, then held it out to me. “Take it.”

But I shook my head. “It’s your last defense. I’ve taken enough from you already.”

I sat on the table, then got to a standing position. I clamped my fingers around the windowsill, but there was no traction on the wall for my foot. Erick sighed again and pushed the table away, using his own strength to lift me until I angled my way through the window.

I paused to sit on the windowsill, with everything but my legs already on the outside. A cool breeze washed up from the sea below us, and I took that in with a deep breath. Erick had underestimated the distance, both to the ground and the cliff above me, yet the texture of the cliff wall was better than I’d hoped for. Vines and plants grew dense and well rooted, and there were many rocks and missing chunks of earth. I didn’t know whether I could make it to the top on one leg or not, but I thought it was a great day to try.

I
t only took me a short distance of climbing to willingly admit this had been a terrible idea. I hadn’t accounted for the added strain it would put on my shoulders and arms to compensate for my useless leg, and my leg that did work was screaming for relief.

Every inch I rose required a series of steps. First was to visually locate my next hold. Generally speaking, this wasn’t too difficult, and I planned ahead to be sure I wouldn’t find myself in trouble farther up. The second step was to reach for it with my lead hand, the stronger one that would keep a steady grip even if everything else failed. Then I used both hands to dig into the wall while I jumped to the next hold with my good foot. I found that I could use my injured leg temporarily for the jump. It hurt like the devils themselves had come to torture me, but as long as I moved quickly, it kept me balanced for the final step of moving my second hand into the new position.

A climb like this normally would’ve taken me only a half hour, but I was moving considerably slower than usual. The sunlight was inching away and with it, any hope I might have to survive the night. I heard the sounds of pirates moving above me, but luckily, none of them thought to look over the cliff wall for anyone. Most of them seemed fairly busy anyway, probably still in preparation for Roden’s dinner.

After an hour I was more than halfway up. Every muscle in my body ached and I was soaked in sweat, but I knew now that it was possible to succeed. So I forced myself to continue upward, letting thoughts of those I cared for most spur my strength.

I had to live. There were so many people I needed to apologize to, so many people I hoped to see again. Beyond that, it was strange to realize that I wanted to see Drylliad again, to gaze at the white walls of my castle and walk through its doors, where I belonged.

And so I continued to climb. There came a point when the anticipation of pain no longer deterred me from using my hurt leg. I still couldn’t put weight on it, but every other muscle now hurt so much I was willing to use it more for balance and stability. Besides, I had to hurry. If I was still here when it got dark, I had no chance of reaching the top.

The sun was only minutes from setting when my lead hand grabbed a rock lodged into the surface of the cliff. I hesitated a moment to be sure I was alone. By this time, the dinner seemed to have already started, so nobody was around. Apparently, Roden wouldn’t send someone to get me until after the meal ended. I hoped they had many courses left to eat.

With a final hoist, I rolled to the top of the cliff, where I lay breathless for several minutes before it occurred to me to continue moving. When it did, I could do nothing more than scoot beneath a bush. Every part of me hurt, with some muscles on my shoulders competing against the pain in my broken leg.

Then I glanced to the side and smiled.

Soon after I came to Mrs. Turbeldy’s orphanage, there had been one night when I took a beating after stopping one boy from kicking a much younger boy for stealing food. Afterward, Mrs. Turbeldy showed me an aravac plant in her yard, a dense, dark green bush with narrow leaves and bright purple flowers, and told me how chewing on its leaves helped numb pain.

I had just rolled beneath an aravac plant.

I gripped a branch tightly and ran my hand down it to strip the leaves free, then stuffed several in my mouth. The taste was awful, but the numbing effects began to work almost immediately.

When I’d gotten all the use from them that I could, I spat them out, then stripped another branch and began chewing on those. They didn’t stop my pain, but they did ease it a bit. As I chewed, I tightened the fabric around my leg brace, which also helped with the pain there.

Moving forward again was an act of pure willpower on my part, but I told myself that it would only get worse the longer I waited. Still, I couldn’t move until I pictured Roden walking up to me, seeing that I had made it here, but no farther. I could almost hear his laughter, mocking my failed effort to reach him.

All I could do to move was lie on the ground, pushing my body forward with my good leg while my injured one dragged uselessly along behind me. Though I was alone, I felt pathetic to have to travel this way, no better than a slithering snake. Even Fink’s rat walked with more dignity than this. Maybe this was what I’d come to. Was it possible for a king to run so far from his identity that he ceased to be anyone special? Because I had never felt lower, or less worthy of my title.

By the roars of laughter in the distance, it was easy to know where the pirates were eating. They weren’t far from me now. I passed the arena where Agor and I had dueled. The thin wooden swords were still hanging from the tree. Slowly I got to my feet, then grabbed two of them to use as crutches. They weren’t much better, forcing me to stoop over like a hunchback, gritting my teeth with every halted step I took, but at least I wasn’t crawling. About halfway to the pirates, one of them broke and I collapsed again onto the ground.

Once more, my abject position brought a smile to my face. A patch of Imogen’s flowers was right in front of me. It was hard to miss them. They seemed to be everywhere I was, or at least, every place where I might find myself in trouble. Imogen said she planted them for me, as constant reminders of the danger I was in.

Then I groaned as I finally understood. No, Imogen planted them
because
of the danger. They were
for
me. I dug beneath the flowers with my fingers and very quickly felt something hard beneath them. After a little more digging I pulled out a knife. Undoubtedly one of the many knives Agor had said were missing from the kitchen. Imogen must have buried them all over this camp. For me.

When I got up again, I hid the knife in my boot, then tossed the broken sword away. It had splintered into long, jagged edges that were completely unusable. I continued to use the other sword. If I let the wood carry my weight, I could hop forward while using my injured leg only when necessary for balance. I felt entirely useless, and I had never needed more determination than with each hop I took toward Roden.

A sweet smell filled the air as I got closer, and I guessed some sort of hot pudding was being served. On the outskirts of the camp, someone had left a pile of used dishes. Probably the serving girls who had to haul them back and forth from the kitchen. I quietly went through them in search of food, anything that was edible. Much of what I ate was nothing but gristle carved off the side of a roast, yet I took all I could get.

“Oh.”

I swerved around, too anxious and hungry to care how humiliating this was. Serena had spotted me. She faced me, frozen in her steps. I put a finger to my lips, a silent plea for her help. Her eyes darted in every direction before she walked over to some dishes farther away from me. She picked up a load and carried them to where I was hiding, setting them down in front of me. There wasn’t much more food on them, but every morsel was a boost to my strength.

With the food in my stomach and the effects of the aravac plant soothing the aches and pains, there was no point in waiting any longer. I was as ready as I’d ever be tonight.

I stood and used the sword to hobble my way into the dinner. The tables were arranged in a large square and Roden sat at the head of them all. The pirates were so engrossed in their conversations and eating, it took a while before they noticed me. When they did, it immediately became quieter than a chapel.

Roden stood and his mouth hung open. His eyes went from my bound leg to the wooden sword in my hand. “You can’t be serious.”

“Let’s finish what was begun in my gardens,” I said in the strongest voice I could muster. “Roden, I’ve come to challenge you as king of the pirates.”