The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) Read online

  I ventured a peek at Bill, my vision clear enough to see the wheels turning behind his eyes. Bill would know that Galius shouldn’t have been able to have the other men hurt me if I’d truthfully been his Holder before. He had to be wondering if Galius could do the same to him. I know I would’ve thought twice about using a Contract to fund my travels for so long if someone had told me that its magic could be worked around.

  Choosing to simply ignore the subject, Galius approached Til’. My heart started racing. Galius had to rely on his brutes to use their own judgment to hurt me. Til’, having no Contract magic binding him to Galius, was free game. I didn’t like where this was going.

  “So, if Mr. Karell does not wish to speak, we’ll leave it to the Kolarin here,” Galius sneered.

  Til’ spat at Galius, glaring at him with pure hatred. “I’ll never tell you anything. You took advantage of the Kolari, you—” Til’ was cut off as Lily Pants gave him a full-blown punch to the side of his face. Til’s head snapped sharply to the side, sending a spray of blood from his mouth

  This was more than I could take. I started fighting my bonds, wildly thrashing on the floor. I never did take well to people hurting my friends.

  Crooked Nose dropped a foot on my chest, waving an admonitory finger. I stopped fighting and stared death into his eyes. He flashed me a wicked grin and pressed his foot down with even more force.

  Til’ looked up at Lily Pants, narrowing his silver eyes as blood dribbled down his chin. “Is that all you’ve got?” he snarled. There was something in his eyes and voice that I’d never seen or heard before. Something unnatural. Something primal. Something vicious. Something I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of.

  “Ah, we have a fighter,” Galius remarked with a smirk. “Hullic, do whatever you must to get him to talk,” he commanded to Lily Pants, ruining my mental nickname for the brute.

  Hullic roughly lifted Til’s arms and dropped them over the back of the chair. He then crouched and tied Til’s feet together. Til’ fought the best he could, but in his weakened and battered condition, his best wasn’t enough.

  Next, Hullic crouched to retrieve a wooden block from beside the chair and wedged it between Til’s knees. Taking a step back, he pulled free a large iron hammer from a leather loop at his hip. My heartbeat stuttered as I realized what was about to happen.

  Hullic—no, I’m sticking to Lily Pants—tightened his grip on the hammer’s leather-wrapped haft, rotating his shoulder in preparation for knee-breaking blows intended for Til’. Til’, just gave Lily Pants a silent, murderous glare. Galius took in the scene with a self-satisfied grin firmly planted on his pallid face.

  I had to stop Lily Pants from hurting Til’. I only had moments to devise a plan.

  Thankfully, I’d always been great at winging plans like that.

  Chapter 2

  Good Timing by a Bad Guy

  During the years that my uncle, Chasus, trained me for my Amirand-wide search for my birth parents, he taught me countless invaluable lessons. One of those lessons was that nearly all nobles are stupid.

  Sure, many noblemen and noblewomen are subject to the highest standards of education. Heck, some may even have book smarts and a lick of common sense. But the majority of the upper echelon of society are self-centered, pride-hoarding, money-grubbing idiots.

  It’s not completely their fault. They’re raised with silk gloves and honey, taught to be pompous, and cradled from what I like to call the “real world.” They are taught the pride of their position and that they are entitled to all the money, power, and worship that go with it. According to Chasus, that’s why nobles don’t take insults to their pride very well.

  Chasus’s favorite story about such idiotic pride was from his days as a military captain for King Agolin’s army in Alandrin. Chasus was in charge of training a large regiment of cavalrymen and infantry in swordplay and hand-to-hand fighting. During one of Chasus’s typical training sessions, King Agolin came by on one of his weekly inspections, along with a visiting lord from some city in Watersdeep.

  The lord decided that since he was so well-trained in fencing, he would be a match for any swordsman in Chasus’s regiment. Agolin took the challenge and had Chasus bring forward whomever he deemed to be his most skilled swordsman. Chasus obliged, arming both his man and the lord with willow-switch swords, and a formal duel commenced.

  Less than a half dozen moves into the duel, the lord was on the ground with the tip of the soldier’s willow-switch sword pressed against the hollow of his throat, his own weapon laying several paces away. In a perfect world, the lord would’ve been reasonable and conceded defeat, taking the soldier’s hand in his and congratulating him for his victory.

  But no, nobles are stupid and prideful, and so the accusation was made that the soldier had cheated in order to make the lord look bad. Between Agolin, Chasus, and a couple hundred soldiers, there were plenty of witnesses to attest otherwise. However, nobles tend to get their way, and even a good king will do what he can to help an offended noble save face, lest it damage relations with the kingdom the noble happens to be from.

  The soldier was ordered to receive five lashes publicly for his “transgression”. Though you’d think a story like this would spark memories of anger, Chasus always laughed towards the end of it. Afterwards, he’d then complete the story by saying, “The first thing the soldier said to me after getting his shirt back on was, ‘Captain, it was worth it.’”

  What does this have to do with Til’ about to get his kneecaps broken while I lay impotent on a stone floor with Galius and his three brutes ready to kill the both of us if we didn’t talk? I’m getting there.

  There was no way for me to get to my feet. There were no answers I could give Galius that would both make him happy and keep Til’ safe. It was time to put my uncle’s view of the general population of nobility to the test.

  Now, Galius wasn’t a noble by birth. Far from it. However, the power of his ill-gotten position had made him as prideful as nobles come. I could only assume that with me being bound on the floor, it was the only weakness of his I could exploit.

  “So, Galius, how’s it feel to be losing all your power and influence?” I spat snidely. Crooked Nose’s boot pressed down even harder, but I continued. “Once a beggar, always a beggar, I suppose.”

  Galius’s eyes flared with anger as his attention left Til’ and rested on me. “You will shut your mouth if you know what is good for you,” Galius hissed, his face reddening.

  “I guess I don’t really know what’s good for me, then. Maybe I should steal a gem from the Kolari and use it to become a count and—” My retort was cut off by Crooked Nose stomping on my chest, knocking out any air that happened to be in my lungs.

  Galius gave an approving nod to Crooked Nose, his face flushed with anger. Bill stood off to the side, eyeing me suspiciously as if considering my words for truth. That didn’t necessarily mean that he wouldn’t still kill Til’ and me if it meant fulfilling his Contract Terms with Galius. I could understand. The alternative to fulfilling the Terms was lifelong servitude to the whiny Count Firmon. Or death.

  Before Galius could return his attention to Til’, I shot back into my venomous tirade. “I bet it was probably a wonderful feeling, getting that gem. No woman would’ve wanted to touch you before. No one would’ve voted you into office. It must’ve been nice to cheat your way into Byweather’s political ranks with that stolen gem. You know, the magic gem that brought you all of your good fortune?”

  I’d been tensed during my monologue, waiting for Crooked Nose to stomp my sternum again or give me another kick to the ribs. Instead, all three brutes were glaring apprehensively at Galius. I’d only been trying to anger Galius by insulting his pride, but my plan had the beneficial side effect of getting into the brutes’ heads. There’s nothing like stirring a little distrust to make people question everything. Then again, maybe the brutes were simply contemplating how such an item could benefit them. Either way, I was
spared at least some pain, and that’s a plus in my book.

  Already having angered Galius to the point of quivering rage, I decided to run with the brutes’ wavering loyalty. “You want to know how you can get around a Contract’s magic, Bill?” I asked, giving Galius a wicked grin.

  That was all it took. Between his insulted pride and his fear that I would let the brutes in on a secret that could turn them against him, all trace of Galius’s rationality flew to the stars. His eyes boiled with anger. His lips pulled back into a shaking snarl. Then, Galius pointed a pale finger at me and screamed four incredibly beautiful words. “Men, kill him now!”

  Before the count’s spittle could reach the floor, his face went slack in shock. “By Nelinor’s blood,” he mouthed unconsciously. Nelinor’s the goddess of regret.

  I smiled.

  So what did Galius regret? Why was I smiling? Well, the magic of an Activated Contract, even when already fulfilled, forever links the Holder and Setter so that they can never harm one another or intentionally have anyone else do so. With those four words screamed in frustrated rage, Galius had made me pretty much invincible.

  If the brutes were employed under Bill, they really should’ve known more about Contracts. As Lily Pants started towards me, Crooked Nose raised his boot from my chest and brought it down with bone-breaking force. About two fingerbreadths above my chest, his foot stopped as if he’d landed it against the floor instead. The shock of the early, stone-hard impact staggered him. With a quick roll, I pushed my body against his foot and sent him reeling backwards. To my grim pleasure, the back of his head slammed into the wall.

  Things got a bit crazy at this point. Til’ had somehow gotten his arms over the back of the chair and was on his feet with a look saying he was ready to brawl, though his ankles were still tied. Both Galius and Bill were calling for Lily Pants and Crooked Nose to stand down. However, with Lily Pants’s charging shout, Crooked Nose’s pained growl, and my own screams, their orders were unintelligible over the cacophony.

  Of course, my screams were just overdramatic taunts aimed towards Lily Pants with the sole purpose of keeping him from realizing what was truly going on. Taunts such as “Your mother has the stink of a military brothel whore.” You know, classy insults.

  Lily Pants lunged the remaining distance, swinging his hammer down towards my head. When the hammer struck the invisible barrier created by the Contract’s magic, it jarred Lily Pants’s hand, causing it to snap open and drop the weapon to the ground beside me. I took advantage of his stunned confusion and kicked my legs into the air, providing me with the momentum needed to propel myself to my feet.

  With a quick reverse spin kick to his face, I knocked Lily Pants off guard before shouldering him to the ground. Crooked Nose was back to his feet with a cudgel of some sort that he swung towards my jaw. His failure to learn from his prior mistake would’ve been enough to make me laugh in a less dire situation, but for the moment I settled for an innate satisfaction as the cudgel stopped right before my face.

  With Crooked Nose’s close proximity and my bound hands limiting my options, I brought my knee into his groin with as much force as I could muster. It was enough to collapse him into a heap on the floor. Hopefully, he hadn’t planned on siring any children.

  All my action was for naught. When I turned to the other end of the room, I saw Bill holding a shiny dagger across Til’s throat, his tattooed face impassive. Galius just stared at me with that greasy smile of his. I froze.

  “Well done, Mr. Karell,” Galius sneered. “Too bad that when it comes down to it, Bill cannot be turned against me, despite your best efforts. If you dare breathe another word about the Contract, the Kolarin dies slowly. If you do not tell me where the gem is, he dies even more slowly.”

  “And if I do tell you where it is . . . ?” I asked, fearing I already knew the answer.

  “Then I will make it quick,” Galius said with a sick finality.

  Til’ started struggling against Bill. Bill pressed the dagger more firmly against his neck, causing blood to ooze from under the blade.

  “Til’, stop,” I commanded sternly. I knew that Til’ wasn’t fighting because he was scared of dying. Aside from passing out at the sight of a dragon once, he was one of the bravest people I’d ever met, Kolarin or otherwise.

  I hung my head. “Okay, Galius. You win. I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to let Til’ go.”

  Galius nodded to Bill in response, and Bill pressed his dagger even harder against the skin of Til’s neck. Til’ gave a painful whimper and went still. Any quick motion could possibly finish Bill’s job for him.

  “You are in no place to make demands, Mr. Karell,” Galius snipped, crossing the room to where I stood. He stopped uncomfortably close to me and lifted my chin to bring my emerald eyes to meet his. “Tell me, or I promise, the Kolarin will suffer.”

  The whininess of Galius’s voice was no longer comical. I couldn’t find any humor in a situation in which my friend and I were about to be killed no matter what I said, my best friend in the world was on his way to being turned into a laboratory experiment, and the woman I loved was never even going to know I’d died.

  By this point, Lily Pants and Crooked Nose were back to their feet and staring at me with murderous intensity. I took little solace in the fact that they wouldn’t be the ones to kill me. Galius would just find someone else to do the job.

  Completely resigned, I let the fight leave me. The only way to earn Til’ a quick death, one that would let him die with a little pride, was to lie. The truth about the dragon egg wouldn’t earn us any mercy from Galius.

  “Galius, the sorceress you saw me with stole the gem and—”

  I was cut off by a shrill whimper from Til’ as Bill pressed on the dagger again. More blood welled beneath the blade.

  “Do not presume that I cannot tell when someone is lying,” Bill said in his rough voice, his dark eyes narrowing a fraction. This guy was good. He had to be in his profession. That was one reason Max had always been an invaluable asset in my travels. He could read a liar from a league away, just like the bald man before me apparently could.

  I was left with one option: tell the truth.

  Til’ must have seen it in my eyes. “Don’t tell them, Korin!” he pleaded, getting the dagger pressed deeper into his skin.

  Til’ would’ve probably preferred a painful death over me revealing information about Xalis, the dragon child born from the egg that Galius had thought to be a gem. If Galius believed me, he’d likely assume Xalis still possessed the magic of the dragon egg and send Bill after it. Til’ had promised Bhaliel that he’d keep Xalis safe. He took that promise as seriously as death.

  Galius’s hand tightened on my chin, but not enough to hurt. Because of our prior Activated Contract, he couldn’t have hurt me if he’d tried. “Last chance,” he snarled, spittle flying onto my face.

  I’d never been a religious man, but I still found myself whispering a prayer in my head to Loranis for forgiveness for what I was about to say. “The truth is—”

  With a splintering crash, the hatch into the room broke inwards, shards of wood ricocheting off the steps. Galius released my chin with a quick motion and gestured to Bill, who tightened his grip on Til’. Galius seemed to be assuming that I had backup come to save me and wanted to ensure he still had the upper hand.

  Several sets of footsteps tapped down the stone stairs. Five men made their way down, one leading four others in pairs behind him. The back four were garbed in oiled leather armor. Their chest pieces had an emblem of a burning sun cut into them, revealing gleaming metal underneath. They wore conical steel helmets with nose guards, and each held a pristine sword.

  The rotund, severe-faced man leading them had a strip of short white hair wrapped around his otherwise bald pate. He was dressed as finely as Galius, but in velvety greens and whites. His large lips, multiple chins, and beady eyes made me think of a toad.

  Whoever they were, they struck fear into Lily
Pants and Crooked Nose. The two wide-eyed brutes dropped their weapons, raised their hands in surrender, and pressed back against the basement wall, all without a single word or gesture from the armored men. Bill didn’t drop his weapon, but he pulled it from Til’s neck and took a step backwards.

  Galius’s eyes filled with a strange mix of anger and fear. “What is the meaning of this, Julan?” Galius sputtered with a squeak, his voice containing no confidence whatsoever.

  So this was Julan Bertal, the man presumably attempting to usurp Galius’s political position as Count of Byweather and Second to Lord Vauhs. Another set of Galius’s thugs who’d once given me quite a beating had mentioned him once.

  Julan didn’t answer right away. He continued forward until all five men were at the foot of the stairs. Julan was just steps away from me, revealing him to be rather short, the top of his head even with my shoulders.

  As Julan approached Galius, three of his men broke away towards Galius’s brutes. Lily Pants and Crooked Nose put up no fight and let two of the men slap manacles onto their wrists.

  “I knew this job was a mistake,” Crooked Nose muttered as the two armored men turned their attention back to Galius.

  The third armored man stepped up to Bill. Bill didn’t put up a fight, but there was an uncomfortable tension as he set down his dagger and unbuckled his scabbard. I was a little surprised that the man who manacled Bill didn’t bring over any others to assist him. Given Bill’s size and his crazy face tattoos, I probably would’ve wanted a little backup just in case.

  Bill glared at me with his hawk-like eyes as he was led to join the other two shackled brutes. His passionate hate towards me probably stemmed from the fact that my noncompliance in answering Galius’s questions was going to land him a lifetime of servitude to the whiny count. Even if Bill hated me, even if he was a terrible person, I had no wish for such a fate to befall him. To befall anyone for that matter.