The Forever Knight: A Novel of the Bronze Knight (Books of the Bronze Knight) (6 page)

G
one.

To a place I couldn’t see or feel or comprehend. Floating in a space that terrified me. Blind, without a body or pain.

Alone.

*   *   *

I was dead, or very nearly dead, and I knew that my mind had left the rest of me behind. But my soul, if that’s what it was, didn’t drift freely up to heaven. I was trapped, suffocating in a blackness that went on forever. I searched the darkness but saw nothing, horrified that I had no eyes at all now.

But I could remember. I knew who I was and what had happened to me. I wondered where Cricket was, if she was dead like me. Or worse.

“Malator?”

My voice carried through the void. I tried to feel Malator, hoping he was somewhere in the darkness.

“Malator, I need you!”

He was gone. Like me, he didn’t exist any more. If I had eyes, I might have cried.

“Malator. Help me.”

*   *   *

After a while—after forever, maybe—I realized I wasn’t dead. I couldn’t be dead. The dead were like the Akari. Once the spirit leaves the body it dwells forever in its special place. Like Cassandra in her apple orchard. She wasn’t floating mutely through eternity. She had another life beyond her mortal one. She had a world around her.

I had only darkness, and that’s when I knew I was still alive somewhere. Barely, yes, but alive, although I couldn’t imagine what kept me from death. The wrestler had broken my neck. No one could have survived it. He might as well have decapitated me.

Yet here I was.

“I can’t stay here forever!” I screamed. “I’m alive!”

That’s when I felt him. Just a tremor at first, far away, invisible out there in the blackness.

“Malator!”

I put everything I could into my cry. All of it, all of
me
. Anything to reach him. Suddenly he was there with me, like a mother over the bed of a sick child. Still invisible, but I could feel him.

“Malator, where am I?” I pleaded. “What happened?”

“Wait. Not now.”

“Where’s Cricket? Is she all right?”

“Lukien, you’re almost dead.”

“My neck . . .” I understood. “Can you save me?”

“I
will
save you, Lukien,” he insisted. “No matter what it takes of me.”

“You can let me die, Malator. It’s all right.”

I heard him laugh, and it cheered me. “Same old Lukien. You have a mission, remember?”

“Now can you tell me what it is?”

“I can’t talk, Lukien. I need my strength. You have to fight, too.”

I imagined reaching out for him, but he was already gone.

*   *   *

Except for Malator, I thought I was alone in the void. I thought I could just wait—until I realized something was in there with me.

It was the first thing I had seen in however long I was trapped there. A shadow among the shadows, moving across my consciousness. I had no body, no flesh to grow cold, but it chilled me. Suddenly I felt it everywhere, and I couldn’t run from it or fight. So I watched, and for a moment it appeared like a pile of bones, then bloody rags of skin, and then as just a pair of horns. Finally it looked at me through the eyes of a dozen decayed faces.

Human faces.

“Leave me!” I cried.

It fled so quickly it stunned me. But I knew what I had seen.

*   *   *

Time passed, more and more, until at last Malator returned. This time I could see him. He brought light with him. His weary face nodded at me, and I knew he was too tired to speak. But he had saved me. I would be alive again.

“Malator,” I said. “I saw the monster in the sand.”

M
alator told me to wake up, and I did. I imagined myself being born, struggling through the tunnel of my mother’s womb. I imagined a light beckoning me out, out, into the world. My hands reached for the light. My one eye blinked open.

I was alive again.

Above me twinkled the night sky, fretted by tree branches. I could
feel
the air in my lungs. I was afraid but not panicked, and knew I was in a forest somewhere. Somehow. My ears perked awake at the sound of insects chirping. Weight pressed upon my chest. I glanced down and saw it was Cricket. She lay over me, slumped with sleep, my chest her pillow.

“Malator,” I whispered. “Thank you . . .”

Cricket heard me and stirred. She sat up groggily, her eyes struggling with the darkness.

“Hello,” I rasped.

“Lukien?” She leaned closer. “Lukien!” She flung herself at me then stopped in horror. “Oh, I’m sorry! You—are you all right? Can you move? I thought you were dead!”

My mind was so cloudy I could hardly grasp her questions. “I’m alive. Malator . . .”

That’s when I noticed the sword in my hand. It had been placed there, tied into my palms with rags so I couldn’t let go. I flexed my fingers around the hilt. Inside the sword stirred Malator, unmistakable but slighter than I’d ever felt him before. Barely there. Whatever he’d done to save me had exhausted him.

“I can move a little,” I told Cricket, but couldn’t raise the sword or do more than flex my arm. I remembered the horror of my neck breaking. To my amazement, I could turn my head. “But I’m all right. I
am
.”

Cricket’s expression melted. I had never seen her cry before, but now tears dampened her cheeks. “God damn it, you scared me, Lukien! That man killed you!”

“He didn’t, Cricket.” I wanted to sit up. “I told you,” I joked, “nothing can kill me. Look!”

Cricket swallowed and smeared the tears with her sleeve. She touched my face. “Yeah,” she nodded. “Okay.”

“What about you? You weren’t hurt?”

She shook her head. “No. He didn’t touch me after . . . what happened.”

I hoped she wasn’t lying. “Where are we? Arad?”

“We left Arad, Lukien. Three days ago.” Cricket shrugged. “I don’t really know where this is.”

“How?”

Cricket’s voice dropped low. “Marilius.”

“Who?”

She cocked her chin toward the trees at my left. “Over there.”

Surprised, I turned my head, struggling to see over my nose with my one eye. A man was huddled among the leaves, slumbering in the darkness.

“Who’s that?”

Cricket put a finger to her lips. “Easy. He helped us, Lukien. He saved us. His name’s Marilius. He’s a captain.”

“Of a ship?”

“He’s a soldier.” Cricket looked over to make sure the man was still asleep. “I couldn’t get you out of there alone, Lukien. After what happened to you I . . .” Her eyes pleaded with me. “I started screaming. The wrestler left me there, left us both there, right in the street. No one came to help. Just Marilius. He put you over your horse and got us out of there. We rode for a day, then we came here. You can be mad if you want, but I did my best.”

“You did good,” I told her. “You were brave. I’m proud of you.” I looked over at the stranger again. “I want to talk to him.”

“What, now?”

“Yes,” I said, trying not to sound angry. I thought again and sighed. “No. I’ll be stronger in the morning. I’ll talk to him then.”

“Why are you mad, Lukien? I told you—he saved us.”

“I know.” I smiled at her. “I do, Cricket. I’m obliged to him. And that’s what I’m going to tell him when he wakes up.”

Cricket looked relieved. She beamed suddenly, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “I swear I thought you were dead.”

“Me, too,” I admitted. “I guess it’ll take more than a broken neck to kill me.”

*   *   *

When I woke the next morning it was the stranger, not Cricket, sitting next to me. Cross-legged, disinterested, he whittled aimlessly with a dagger, and when I grunted awake he glanced my way.

“Cricket told me you wanted to speak to me,” he said.

I looked around but couldn’t find her. “Where is she?”

“Gone for water. It’ll give us a chance to talk.”

I tested my sword arm, feeling stronger than the night before. I even raised my head a little. “You’re Marilius?” I took a good look at him. Dirty hair. Young, too. Hardly more than twenty. His muddy boots were the kind worn in Norvor, his crestless coat more like a Marnan’s. He’d let his beard get out of control. “Cricket said you were a captain,” I said, not hiding my disbelief. “You’re a mercenary.”

“I’m both.”

“I know about mercenaries. You don’t look much like one.”

His eyes sharpened on me, shifting quickly to my sword and back again. “You think you can do the job, old man? You think I’m here to rob you?”

“I’m obliged to you for saving me,” I said. “But make no mistake. I’m as rigid as a timber, so if you’re planning anything do it now. You won’t get another chance.”

Marilius frowned with offense. “Didn’t the girl tell you about me?”

“She told me. But if I find out you laid a hand on her, or that she’s too afraid to tell me the truth, or that she’s protecting me by lying, I’m going to kill you. And not quick either. I’m going to chop off bits of you and make you eat ’em.”

Marilius expertly flicked his dagger into the dirt by my sword hand. “It ain’t a lie.”

“Tell me what happened. And it better match Cricket’s story or—”

“Yeah, I know, I know, you’ll kill me.” He smiled wildly. “That big man who broke your neck? His name’s Wrestler. That’s it, nothing else. Just Wrestler. He’s a bodyguard for King Diriel.”

“Diriel. From Akyre.” I began to remember what Sariyah had told me about Diriel. And about the ‘death magic.’ “Why was he in Arad?”

“Same reason all soldiers go there. Booze and whores.”

“Is that why you were there?”

Marilius picked up his dagger. “It doesn’t matter why I was there. Just lucky for you that I was.” He began twirling the dagger, threading it through his fingers without thinking. “Wrestler’s like a lot of us these days. You take a job where you can find it. Guess he figured he’d put his talents to better use, breaking necks for a king. He still puts on those sideshows, though. And he ain’t never been beat.” Marilius studied my sword. “You should have kept that instead of giving it off to the girl. You might have had a chance against him.”

“I won’t make that mistake again. Next time, Wrestler’s head’s going home with me in a sack. You saw the fight?”

“Oh yeah,” grinned Marilius. “Heard your neck snap and everything. Made a sound like popping corn. You should be dead. You nearly were. I tossed you over your horse and rode you out of there, and that didn’t kill you either. I wondered about that. Then you started mumbling to yourself, like you were talking to someone. And then I figured everything out.”

He smiled like a card player with an unbeatable hand.

“What did Cricket tell you?”

“Nothing. She didn’t have to. Maybe you think we don’t hear news all the way out in the Bitter Kingdoms, but I’m from Norvor. I heard all about you. Heard how you went across the desert and got that sword of yours, heard how you got a ghost that makes you a hard man. I figure there’s only one person in the world you could be. Only person who could have his neck broken and be talking about it two days later.” Marilius stopped twirling his dagger. “Tell me I’m wrong . . . Lukien.”

Maybe he was challenging me, but I didn’t see challenge in his eyes, just curiosity. I was about to ask him what he wanted when Cricket returned. She broke through the trees with our canteens strapped around her waist like cowbells. When she saw me talking to Marilius she stopped.

“Everything all right?” she asked.

“Everything’s fine,” chirped Marilius like a bird. “Lukien and me are just getting to know each other.”

Cricket’s face fell. “Lukien, I didn’t tell him anything about you.”

“That’s right, she didn’t,” nodded Marilius. “See? You don’t have to kill either of us.” He waved Cricket closer. “Sit yourself down, little girl.”

Cricket came over but sat down on my other side, away from Marilius. She wore the rass skin cape, using part of it to cover my chilled body. I lifted my hand, brushing the back of it against her leg, a way of showing her I could move better now.

“Untie the sword now, Cricket,” I told her, sure I could hold it by myself. When she was done I managed to prop myself up onto an elbow. Cricket and Marilius both grinned like it was some great feat. “I’ve got questions for you,” I told Marilius. “How long have you been gone from Norvor?”

“Less than a year,” said Marilius.

“Who you working for? Diriel?”

“Diriel?” Marilius laughed then spit on the ground. “Never. Diriel’s turned Akyre into a pit. Not that it was anything to brag about before, mind you.”

Cricket bristled, “Akyre’s my home.”

“Oh?” Marilius shrugged. “Sorry to hear that. You already know what’s happened to it, then.”

“We don’t,” I confessed. “We came here to find out.” The more I talked the more my head cleared. My instincts were getting sharper, too, telling me Marilius was hiding something. “You didn’t answer my question—who’d make a kid like you a captain?”

Just as if I’d squeezed a trigger, Marilius started getting nervous again. The dagger flipped quickly between his fingers. “His name’s Anton Fallon. Heard of him?”

Now it was my turn to smile. “That explains a lot. Anton Fallon’s got just about all the money in this part of the world. Probably has nothing better to spend it on than a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears mercs. So why’d you come to Arad? Why are you alone?”

“Well, that’s my business now, isn’t it? I didn’t expect to have to rescue you two. Now I’m heading back there. I want you to come with me.”

“Why?” asked Cricket.

“Cause it’s safe there,” said Marilius. “Akyre’s no place for you, girl. If you come with me south to Fallon’s palace, your champion here can mend a bit.”

“Uh-huh. That’s a real nice offer,” I said. “And Anton Fallon just happens to have a desperate need for more mercenaries, I bet.”

“You’ve got special talents,” said Marilius. “He’ll pay you well, better than any other swording job you’ll find around here.”

“I’m not a mercenary,” I said. “Not anymore.”

“He’s a knight-errant,” declared Cricket.

“Ah, so you’re a principled man,” said Marilius. “What if I told you that Fallon really needs you. People are dying and you can help stop it. Would that interest you?”

“Not unless you tell me the whole story.”

“Can’t,” said Marilius. His lips tightened behind his beard. “That’s for Fallon to say. Anyway, where else you gonna go? There’s nothing worth your time in Akyre, and if you head up there, Wrestler will just snap your neck again. At least if you come with me you’ll get a chance to do some good.”

I thought about it, then shook my head. “No reason for us to go all the way to some palace to rest. Seems pretty quiet here. By tomorrow I’ll be able to ride. So thanks for the offer, but no.”

Marilius stood up. “I thought knight-errants were supposed to have honor.” He sniffed and put his dagger into his belt. “Guess you don’t think much of paying your debts. Seems to me you’d still be laid out in Arad if I hadn’t come along. And Cricket? Who knows. Wrestler might have come back for her.”

I wished he hadn’t said that. I still wish it. Before I was a mercenary I was a real knight. A Royal Charger. The word ‘honor’ didn’t seem to mean much in the Bitter Kingdoms, but it did to me.

“Lukien, I don’t want to go with him. We got our own mission, you and me.”

“We do,” I sighed, but I hadn’t told Cricket of the monster I’d seen. That thing was death itself coming at us. Coming, I supposed, for Cricket. That was the truth Malator wouldn’t tell me. Suddenly, a detour from our mission seemed like a fine precaution.

“How far is it to Fallon’s palace?” I asked.

“Just a couple of days, on the southern coast,” said Marilius. “I’m telling you, you’ve never seen anything like it.”