Rise of Legends (The Kin of Kings Book 2) (40 page)

“It sounds like you’ve encountered a lot of trouble keeping that peace,” Alabell said.

“Would’ve been easy, but Krepps are too proud and Elves are too stubborn.” Zoke’s gaze never left Cleve, as if he cared little about the rest of them. “Did you come here to see Vithos? He wants to return to you and Reela, but there is too much for him to do in the village.”

“Not just to see Vithos,” Cleve said, and his face took on the bleak look Basen was used to. “War has begun again.”

This surprised both Krepps, their brows crinkling as if raising invisible eyebrows. “Who fights?” Zoke asked.

“Lead us to the village and I’ll explain on the way.”

“Follow me.”

Cleve and the two Krepps took the front while Cleve explained Tauwin’s rise to power, starting with the murder of King Kerr.

“This is his great-niece, Alabell Kerr,” Basen interrupted and gestured at her. He didn’t want to miss what seemed like the only opportunity to introduce themselves before they reached the village, where there would be many more Krepps like the older one here who looked as if he wanted them gone or dead and didn’t care which one. “I’m Basen, and this is Annah.” He suddenly worried they would wonder what his last name was. Even Krepps knew of Tegry Hiller and what he’d done, and they approved even less than humans did.

“What great-niece means?” the older Krepp asked Zoke.

“Anpolk.”

The older Krepp grunted with a faint nod.

“Tauwin killed the last of my family,” Alabell said. The only time Basen ever heard anger in her tone was when she spoke of Tauwin. “And he’s killed many more since then in his attempt to take over Kyrro.”

“Why does he want Kyrro?” Zoke asked.

“He’s a Takary,” Basen explained. “They think Kyrro belongs to them.”

“I don’t understand,” the older Krepp said.

Zoke gave him a knowing look. “Human greed.”

This time the older Krepp let out a long grunt, and there seemed to be an understanding between the two of them, as if “human greed” was not just an answer to Tauwin’s behavior but to the entire reason behind the war.

Cleve then described what had happened with the rest of the war so far. Basen waited for him to bring up Sanya, but he finished without mentioning her name once. It made Basen realize that she actually had little to do with the war. It seemed strange, because his whole life was wrapped up in this war now, yet it was Sanya who drew the brunt of his worry and anger, not Tauwin. He supposed it was different for Alabell. But what about Cleve? He’d trained Sanya before she’d turned on them. She’d killed one of his closest friends. He must still be bothered by her betrayal even though he didn’t show it.

Basen waited for his chance to be discreet, then asked Cleve, “Is Tauwin a worse enemy to you than Sanya?”

He pondered it for a moment and said, “Both deserve to die for their crimes.”

When that seemed to be the only answer Cleve would give, Basen prodded, “What if you could only kill one of them? Suppose you could snap your fingers and one would keel over. Dead.” Basen snapped. “Who would you choose?”

“Tauwin,” he answered without even a moment of thought.

“But Sanya—”

“I know what she did.” Cleve took in a slow breath as his face contorted. “But her existence doesn’t continue to threaten the people I care about.”

Basen couldn’t help but frown. There was always a chance that Sanya was still a direct threat to him. He figured Cleve didn’t mean to reveal how little he felt for Basen, but that didn’t make it sting any less.

Cleve looked shocked for a moment, possibly realizing what he’d said. “Forgive me, I’m tired. I didn’t mean to imply—”

But Cleve stopped, looking as if he hoped Basen would interrupt.

“Go on,” Basen said, amused at seeing Cleve uncomfortable.

“I do…care…I mean, we are friends. I want Sanya dead, but I don’t think she’s as much of a threat to you or anyone else as Tauwin is.”

Basen sighed. Was he the only one who felt that Sanya hadn’t yet demonstrated what she was capable of? He supposed now wasn’t the time to convince anyone how dangerous she was. The village lay just ahead. He had other problems to worry about, especially with the way Zoke’s fellow Krepp was staring at him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Zoke explained that the Krepps had been in the abandoned Elven village for just a few months before the Elves showed up from Greenedge. With half of the Elves being powerful psychics, and the other half wielding bows and swords, the Krepps had little chance of defeating them in battle even though their numbers were far greater, and remained so.

“Since then, some Elves have been killed by resentful Krepps,” Zoke explained. “Always during arguments. The Krepp is then killed for his actions. Knowing this, the Krepp often tries to run and hurts many who try to stop him. Now we all must act quickly when we see arguments.” He glared at the older and larger Krepp. “The Elves could remove us from this village if they choose to, and we would lose the battle if there was one.”

They’d stopped at the entrance to the village. A wooden fence strong and tall enough to stop any animals from getting inside wrapped around hundreds of houses formed intricately out of clay and some out of brick. None looked identical, though there seemed to be a theme of white walls and red roofs. This area of the forest had been cleared. Lush grass filled the space between homes, which were often surrounded by bushes replete with ripe berries. The few trees left seemed to mark different fields—some containing crops, others acting as homes to grazing cattle and sheep.

Krepps and Elves alike seemed involved in tasks of building, harvesting, and tending to the animals. They worked together in harmony, to Basen’s surprise. This answered his curiosity as to why the Elves let the Krepps stay. They looked to be strong workers, determined to prove their worth as they labored tirelessly at whatever task was assigned to them.

“Rickik,” Zoke said to the other Krepp, “go get Vithos.”

Rickik replied in Kreppen, but Zoke shook his head to interrupt him.

“Common tongue only. You must practice.”

But Rickik didn’t speak again. He glared for a moment and then walked into the village.

“He’s friendly,” Basen quipped when he was certain the Krepp was too far to hear him.

“He was the leader when I first came here,” Zoke said, watching Rickik walk deeper into the village. “Everything was different then. None of these structures looked anything like they do now. Their walls were burned and crumbling. The water spigots didn’t work, and no one knew why. There were no farms, so Krepps had to hunt and forage for every meal. When the Elves came, everything became worse at first. There was much arguing and fighting. Only Vithos and I knew enough Kreppen and common tongue to translate, and it wasn’t enough to settle all between Krepps and Elves. Eventually, many of the Krepps left or were forced out because they couldn’t control their behavior. Most of them wanted all Krepps to band together and kill the Elves. But it was a battle we would lose, and many of us, like myself, didn’t wish to fight them.

“The Elves helped us construct the buildings you see now. They fixed the water spigots. They made fields for farming. They forced every Krepp to start learning common tongue, while the Elves who didn’t know it began learning as well. It was the better alternative to teaching us Elvish, which we didn’t want to learn and they didn’t want to teach. Krepps demanded the Elves not use psyche on them unless to stop a Krepp from injuring someone, and the Elves have promised to keep our minds free from manipulation.”

“I assume Rickik didn’t like losing leadership,” Cleve said.

“No. He was ashamed at how much better the Elves were able to manage the Krepps who used to follow him. Now there are many Krepps like him—expert hunters with no need to hunt. He cannot compete with psychic Elves, whose task it is to hunt now. Rickik is strong, a good fighter and tracker, but he grows angrier with each day. There are still many like him, trying to find a place here yet constantly failing to do so, but none carry the same shame as him.”

“Excuse me, Zoke,” Annah said politely, then seemed scared yet thrilled when he looked right at her, like a child standing in front of a man in a monster costume. “Is Rickik a common name for Krepps?”

“No name for Krepps is common. It is shameful to name your child a name that belongs to another Krepp.”

“Then could he be the father of Nebre?”

Zoke leaned down. “How do you know this?”

Annah took a step back. “Nebre wrote a book that I read. His name is written in the book as Nebre, son of Rickik.”

Zoke’s long mouth came open as he straightened his back. He looked delighted and surprised, though he did so without smiling. His yellow eyes seemed friendly for the first time since he and Cleve had shaken hands. “I am happy you told me Nebre wrote a book. What is his book about?”

“His experience during the war as a Krepp in Doe and Haemon’s army, then as a translator for Tenred. It’s written very well. His common tongue is excellent, as is yours.”

“We used to practice together when we were younger.” Finally, Zoke smiled. “I thought he was dead, and so did Rickik. Is he still in Tenred?”

“I don’t know,” Annah said sadly. “The book ended with him hinting that there was nowhere for him to go. It’s written as if it’s the last thing he could accomplish. Because of the choices he made, he’s no longer welcomed by humans or Krepps. But there was no mention of this village here in Merejic. Perhaps he doesn’t know about it.”

“He wouldn’t. The Krepps that came here had abandoned the army because they disagreed with their leaders, but this was already after Nebre went to Tenred. He would be welcomed here. In fact, we need another good translator.” Zoke glanced at Cleve. “Are you going to Tenred with Vithos?”

“Yes, and with you, too, if you’ll join us.”

“Vithos will go. I’m sure of it. But without him, I’ll be even more needed than I am now. My place is here, with my sister.”

“I understand,” Cleve said. “I need to speak with Fatholl about the Elves joining us. We need as many as we can get. Can you take me to him?”

“I can bring you to him once Rickik comes back with Vithos. As visitors, you’ll need an Elf with you to be allowed in the village. But I wouldn’t expect Fatholl to send any of the Elves with you back to Tenred. It’s up to them if they wish to fight, and I don’t see any reason they would. This is their home, not Kyrro.”

Everything Zoke said seemed correct. Why would anyone besides Vithos, Reela’s brother, want to help? Their party needed something they could trade the Elves, but these Elves didn’t want to be at the Academy or live in Kyrro once the war was over.

“What about money?” Basen asked. “What currency do you use here?”

“We don’t have any form of money yet. If you work, you are fed and get to live here. If you’re sick, you don’t have to work until you’re better. But if there’s nothing for you to do here, then you must find some way of working, or you will leave. Rickik and I have been discussing tasks for him and other Krepps like him, but we haven’t found one yet.”

Basen sighed as he realized what this meant. He showed a concerned look to Cleve. “No Elves are going to join us…but Krepps like Rickik might.”

He could see the news affect everyone in the same way as their faces reflected their dismay.

“Let me speak to Rickik first,” Zoke suggested. “He’s less likely to agree to anything a human asks him to do. But he and other Krepps might join if there’s something you can offer them for fighting. Krepps like them live to fight.”

“Do you mean love to fight?” Annah asked.

“No, live to fight.”

Rickik was coming back with an Elf who Basen assumed to be Vithos. Catching sight of their group, he broke into a run. The Elf must’ve been ten years older than Basen, but he looked like a child as he sprinted with a wide grin on his face.

Cleve answered Zoke quickly, “There isn’t much for us to trade. Try to talk him down to something reasonable.”

“Rickik is never reasonable.”

“Cleve!” Vithos yelled excitedly as he wrapped his arms around the big warrior’s waist, then hoisted him up, to everyone’s surprise. Cleve’s eyes went wide as Vithos gave him a bit of a twirl, then lost control and nearly fell. Vithos simply laughed as both found their footing again. He clasped Cleve’s shoulder. “Sorry I away for so long.” His words came out in a rough accent similar to Rickik’s.

“Reela and I have missed you, but we understand. Unfortunately, we need you to come back now.”

“Yes, Rickik told me war now. Fighting can be stopped?”

“No, we must fight.”

“Krepps, Tenred?”

“No, the Takarys.”

“But we helped them!” Rage crossed Vithos’ face.

“The ones we helped might not have anything to do with this,” Cleve explained. “Though at least one Takary in Greenedge is assisting Tauwin, a man about my age who killed King Kerr.” Cleve pointed at Alabell. “Her great-uncle.”

She nodded. “Tauwin has taken almost all of Kyrro, but we still have the Academy and Trentyre.”

As they explained the situation to Vithos, Basen watched while Zoke spoke with Rickik. The older Krepp’s face slowly began to show confusion with a wrinkle in his scaly brow. He glanced over at Basen and scowled. It seemed inappropriate to stare, so Basen approached them. He figured a compliment would be a good way to initiate the conversation.