Authors: Michael Wallace

The Free Kingdoms (Book 2) (29 page)

Almost, he surrendered his quest. But no, it had become too important to abandon. “I have to go to the Citadel first. If I survive the ordeals, I promise I’ll return.” He smiled. “We’ll raise griffins together.”

But in the back of his mind, Darik wondered. What sacrifices would the Brotherhood require for him to join the Knights Temperate? No, he would worry about that when it came.

She smiled. “Come. Let’s go flying.”

They rode together on Joffa, Daria in front, Darik behind with his arms around her waist. They lifted from the aerie and flew, where the air was chill and sweet. Daria laughed and turned to smile at Darik, her face brilliantly pure, the pain of the last few weeks washed from her face. Darik leaned forward to kiss her, but when their lips touched, she lurched Joffa to one side and he scrambled for balance.

“Better not distract me while I’m flying,” she shouted against the wind when she straightened out again, a mischievous grin on her face. “I’m liable to crash into a tree.”

Joffa, too, was glad to stretch his wings and they raced the young griffin up the side of the mountain, then dove back down again with speed Darik hadn’t thought possible. When they returned at last, Darik was breathless. If she’d meant to give him reason to return, it had worked.

He left the next morning, reluctant to part from Daria’s side. He’d explained Sanctuary but didn’t think she understood. How could one man own another, she wondered. And hadn’t Whelan bought his freedom already?

Yes, Darik replied. But he hadn’t
earned
that freedom. In spite of everything he’d done, he wouldn’t earn it until he begged Sanctuary. He made slow time for the next two days until he reached the Old Road. It hadn’t been widely used for generations, and was barely a rutted path. He’d heard that robbers infested the woods and passes. With only his sword and few supplies, he had nothing to give brigands, but was careful anyway. He saw nobody but a few messengers who rode under armed guard from the Free Kingdoms toward Balsalom.

It snowed in the mountain passes and he was cold. His food ran out and he was hungry. At last, he reached Eriscoba, green and beautiful. And free.

Markal met him at the foot of the mountains. “So we meet again,” the wizard said, joining him suddenly on the road, much to Darik’s surprise. “How many blisters have you got?”

“Quite a few,” Darik admitted. “I wore my feet to stumps over the mountains. But by the Brothers, I’m still going.”

“Ah, that explains the limp. No doubt you’d care more if you weren’t so hungry, eh? Come, I know a farmer who will feed us a few miles down the road.”

Darik made slower time through the Free Kingdoms than through the mountains, but traveled with a full stomach. He traded half days of work for food and lodging, and picked his way south and west. Markal didn’t interfere, but talked to farmers about the weather and animal husbandry. He even helped Darik slop pigs and stack hay, but refused any pay other than food. As did Darik.

At last Darik stood in front of the Citadel with nothing but his sword and clothes. Hoffan and Daniel, the latter no longer the king, greeted him at the Citadel. Hoffan had gained back whatever weight he’d lost in the mountains and the subsequent battles. Daniel looked much better, but was still pale and had a tremble in his hand. Darik only hoped that Toth had released his soul, now that he had no use for it.

“You look terrible, boy,” Hoffan said. “But what would I expect? You’ve traveled in the company of Markal the Meddler. He’s too busy spreading gossip to worry about such niceties as food. Care for a bite to eat before those bastards in the tower starve the last few pounds from your bones?”

Darik shook his head. “I want to get it over with. Then, I promise you, we’ll eat.”

Hoffan chuckled. “Yes, I suspect you will. You’ll likely chew my leg off if I don’t feed you fast enough.”

Daniel put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Darik. You’ll do well.”

A knot of nervousness worked its way through Darik’s innards. “I hope so. But I’m afraid. Is it cowardice to admit that?”

“Of course not,” Daniel said. “Only a fool faces the unknown without fear. What will you do when you finish? Join the Knights Temperate?”

“Perhaps I can answer that better than he can,” Markal said.

The wizard took something from his robes, a glass sphere that glowed with a cool blue light. He handed it to Darik to inspect and Darik looked into its depth in amazement. It had its own light source, but he didn’t know what that could be. He’d never seen the likes of it before.

“What is it?”

“A new tool. Not all powerful, but useful. I hope to harness it to regain the Tome of Prophesy. You’re going to help me.”

“We’re going to the Cloud Kingdoms?” Darik said, a thrill racing through his veins. He fought it down, remembering his promise to Daria.

Markal smiled. “Not yet, Darik. Other things first. I’m anxious for you to finish your ordeals. You have much to learn and only a few days to learn it. And then we leave for Veyre. Yes, for the Dark Citadel itself, to find your father. The game, my friend, has just begun.”

Markal led him through the Citadel, through the close and into the bailey. The stones were cleaned of blood and workers repaired the breach in the wall and shored up the Golden Tower under the direction of Arvada’s best engineers. Markal stood before Sanctuary Tower to present him.

“Sanctuary!” he cried.

A face peered from a window high in the tower. Ethan, Darik noted with surprise. The Brotherhood expected him. “Yes, what is it?”

Markal said, “I present a slave of Balsalom for Sanctuary. Will you admit him?”

“Slave,” Ethan called. “Are you willing to suffer ordeals for Sanctuary? To purge yourself of your slavish desires, and dedicate yourself to justice and mercy?”

“I am,” Darik answered, heart beating harder. Was he ready?

Ethan nodded. “You have not come without possessions. But the mountains are dangerous, so I will forgive the sword. Cast down your weapon and your soiled clothes and enter, penitent.”

Darik unbuckled Waspcleaver and let it clatter to the ground. Then he stripped off his clothing and stood naked in the bailey. A chill laced the autumn wind and he shivered. The door opened at the bottom of Sanctuary Tower and a hand beckoned him in. He glanced back at Markal who nodded in approval, then stepped toward the door. Sanctuary awaited.

-end-

The Dark Citadel Saga continues in book three:
The Golden Griffin.

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