Secrets at the Keep (Kingdom of Denall Book 2) (14 page)

“No, what are you seeing?” P asked.

“There is a thick cloud of smoke rising. It is too much for a fire or a…”

“It can’t be.” P said, holding her hand to her mouth. “They’re burning Hess.” She fell to her knees and began to cry, gasping for air as she fought to gain control of her emotions.

The faces of each of his friends who he had lost that night flashed through Kaz’s mind, and the sick feeling that had accompanied the tight knot in his stomach ever since he had seen Samel struck down by a patrolman finally exploded into a fire that seemed to overtake his whole being. In a fit of uncontrollable anger, Kaz reached into his quiver and nocked one of the two black feathered arrows.

He tried to draw back his bow, but his arm gave out. Gritting his teeth, Kaz drew the bowstring part way. In desperation, he screamed out in pain as he fully drew the bow and quickly released. The second the arrow left the bow the arrowhead began burning bright red. Kaz dropped his bow and fell to the ground, the pain in his shoulder and chest too much for him to bear any more. He watched the arrow fly silently through the sky, leaving in its wake a streak of red light.

Despite Kaz's best effort, the arrow did not have the momentum to reach the keep. Just as it hit the ground, several dozen paces from the keep, the earth exploded, sending chunks of sod up into the air. The explosion thundered with such force that despite the distance, Kaz and P shuddered at the sound. The arrow made a crater in the ground several yards in diameter.

Without saying a word, P slowly sat up and leaned in close to Kaz. “My dear Kaz,” she began in a soft voice. “Thank you for giving me a diversion.” Then, without any warning, she knocked him over the head. Then she spoke softly to the unconscious body of her savior. “I want you to live, and where I'm going there is only death.” She dragged his body into a thick stand of brush at the edge of the forest and made sure he was hidden well. She was more resolved than ever now to finish her mission that would bring death to her father, and in all probability, to herself.

The methodical and steady sounds of the mule's feet on the road and the cart wheels turning in their regular pattern were the first things to register when Kaz finally opened his eyes. The sound was not loud, but each time the animal took another step the vibration through the cart shook Kaz so that his head felt like it would split in two. He groaned in agony and the cart came to a stop. The driver whispered something to the mule and dropped the reins as he went around the cart to inspect his passenger.

Through half opened eyes Kaz saw the man approaching. He was short with a medium build. The hair he had left was gray and mostly around the sides and back of his head. Around his forehead the man had tied a thin piece of material. The man was wearing what looked like a thick wool blanket with a hole cut in the middle for his head. Kaz had never seen someone dressed this way and he wondered for a moment if he was dreaming. The man inhaled deeply and Kaz noticed a single mark on his nose. Kaz thought that he was used to seeing new things since his Troven had begun, but this was his first time ever seeing a hound.

“Good morning,” the man said. Kaz knew immediately that he was not dreaming because the sound of the man's voice sent pain through his body. Any sound caused Kaz's head to throb and pulsate with pain.

Kaz rolled slightly to one side in an effort to sit up and screamed out in agony. “Young man, you need to hold still, you went through quite an ordeal.”

“What happened?” Kaz asked.

“I'm not sure,” the man answered. But from the look of you, and from what I've seen in my days, it was probably a woman or a quest. Maybe a bit of both mixed together.”

Kaz was starting to feel his head spinning but he fought the urge to slip back into unconsciousness. The more he was awake, the more he remembered of the night with P, and he wanted some answers. He tried to rise to a sitting position but immediately regretted that move. He was now remembering the arrow wound, the considerable impact to his torso and the surprise attack from P. From his position, lying on the cart, Kaz turned to the man, who was patiently waiting for Kaz to speak. “What is going on?”

“We are going on a cart ride,” the man answered. “I'll keep driving if you keep lying there.”

“Where are we going?” Kaz asked, hoping to get more helpful information from the man.

“We're going to my place.” The man stood expectantly, waiting for the next question, then he added. “Young man, you will need to save your strength. If you exhaust yourself asking pointless questions you won't ever learn anything. Please try to ask a meaningful question this time.”

Kaz realized that this man was not just literally answering his questions, but he was testing Kaz, or trying to make some kind of point. Agitated, Kaz moved to prop himself up and look at the man, but he quickly resumed his horizontal position on the cart. “What are you going to do with me?”

The man maintained his composure and answered the repetitive question with an equally repetitive answer. “I'm going to take you in this cart to my house.”

Kaz glared at the man. “That's not what I meant and you know it.”

The man, calm as ever, continued the idle conversation. “You really shouldn't make assumptions or claims about what other people know. If I know it then saying it is a waste of your energy, if I actually don't know it then you might make me feel foolish.”

“Fine!” Kaz said in an irritated voice, then in a softer tone. “Fine, let's start again. My name is Kaz, what is your name?”

“Now that, my friend, is a good question.” With a smile the man patted Kaz lightly on his good shoulder. “My name is Kire. It's very nice to meet you Kaz.”

With that said Kire circled around to the front of the cart again and without another word urged his mule into motion. The sounds and the motion of the cart made every part of Kaz ache. So many of his questions were left unanswered, but Kire was right -- he had used up all his energy asking questions that really didn't matter. With his last bit of energy he resolved to be more careful with his questions in the future. Then he fell into a restless sleep interrupted often by a painful jar each time the small cart hit a root, pothole or bump in the road.

*****

It wasn’t until several minutes after they had stopped moving that the pain from the motion of the cart was replaced by the pulsating throb from the arrow wound in his shoulder. Several more minutes passed before he heard the sound of Kire coming. Kaz hated feeling so vulnerable, just lying in a cart completely defenseless. As he thought about defenses his mind turned to his bow. Without sitting up he frantically searched around the cart, but he could not see any sign of his bow. Then Kire came into view with Kaz's bow strung and draped over his shoulder.

Kaz reached out for his bow and winced in pain. “What is wrong?” Kire asked, as he knelt down and started a small fire.

“That's my bow,” Kaz said, looking at the bow Kire was wearing.

“Yes it is,” came the reply.

Remembering the infuriating way Kire communicated, Kaz went on. “That is my bow and I don't want anyone using it but me. I thought I was the only one who
could
use it.”

Kire gave Kaz an even look, then responded by simply holding up two plump rabbits. “I will gladly let you do the hunting as soon as you are able. Omer himself would probably be using it if I hadn't picked it up when I dragged you to safety. It is a rather nice weapon.”

He realized then how petty his complaint had been, and how foolish his comment was when Kire was standing there with fresh game to eat. Kaz took a deep breath. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things.” Kaz was beginning to feel like everything he said was a mistake around this man.

Kire looked down at the frustrated young man. “You're right.”

Kaz tentatively moved his body and found that it was not feeling much better than earlier in the day. He was barely able to move his left arm and hand, and his right shoulder was still throbbing from the arrow wound. He was happy to find that his legs and feet seemed to be fine. When he tried to sit up, intense pain shot through his whole body. It was so bad, he felt like he might vomit.

“You have at least three cracked ribs,” Kire explained. “They will take time to heal.”

“How long until I can walk again?” Kaz asked, anxious to be off of the infernal cart.

“It will take time to heal,” Kire repeated. “Your body has been through a lot. You will also need time to rest from your recent trip from Lexingar, and the caravan experience.”

“My recent trip?” Kaz asked confused, “How did you know that?”

“Your clothing, your rings, your bow, your accent. It seems pretty obvious,” Kire answered. “But I do have an important question for you in case you don’t survive.”

“Survive?” Kaz blurted out.

“Yes, of course. If the arrow wound is infected, you could die,” Kire answered. “It is a very low possibility,” he added, though it did not comfort Kaz. “In case the cleaning doesn’t work, I do need to ask you about one thing.” Kire pointed down at Kaz’s Sight Stone. “Tell me what you know about the Sight Stone.”

Kaz looked at Kire with his eyes wide open. This man seemed to know everything about Kaz without even asking. What did his clothing and accent have to do with anything? He didn’t know this man and now he was asking about the stone - a stone that had cost the life of his friend.

“Don’t worry about it for now. It seems you don’t have anything to add to what I already know,” Kire said offhandedly. “I am sorry for your loss,” he added. “And in all likelihood you’ll live through the operation, so please don’t worry too much about it.” Kire moved around their small campsite, building the fire, setting a pot of water over the flames, cleaning the rabbits and setting them on a spit to cook.

Kaz tilted his head to the side and stared at Kire, not knowing how to react. It seemed the man could read his mind and it was freaking Kaz out. What else could he know just by looking at him?

“I can’t read your mind,” Kire said over his shoulder.

“How did you do that?” Kaz blurted out.

Kire turned his attention to Kaz with a friendly smile. “I just notice things that most people don’t, that’s all. I’ve been practicing watching people and things for a very long time. When things are abnormal, like excessively bright campfires on consecutive nights in different places around Omer’s Keep, they stand out to me and I like to investigate if I’m in the area.”

“Okay,” Kaz said, still not happy with the answer. Wanting to keep his facial expressions from giving away his thoughts, he tried to make his smile look sincere.

Kire reached to the fire and pulled off a pot of boiling water. “I need to check for infection in the arrow wound. This will hurt.” Kire waited and Kaz nodded, bracing himself. True to his pronouncement, the probing was excruciating, but Kaz tried not to move as Kire surveyed the damage. “There is an infection. It won’t kill you, but I will need to operate if we are going to save your arm.” With a grim expression on his face, Kire placed a thin, sharp knife in the fire and opened Kaz's shirt.

“Hold on,” Kaz blurted out. “How do I know I can trust you?”

Kire looked up at Kaz. “I rescued you, I'm taking you to safety, I'm feeding you and I have been completely honest with you. Do you need more reasons?”

“That's not what I meant. How can I trust you know what you're doing with that knife and my arm?”

With a slight smile Kire nodded his head. “That is a good question. I noticed you did not watch very attentively when I cleaned these rabbits, so I suppose you have no good reason to trust me except to take my word for it.”

After a short pause, Kaz nodded, accepting Kire as his surgeon. He laid his head back down on the planks of the cart and spoke out loud. “What are you going to do to me?”

Kire mixed in some herbs with the heated water. He spoke as he worked at making a paste. “Are you sure that you want me to tell you?”

“I would feel better about it if I had an idea of what is going to happen.”

“Very well,” Kire said. “First, I will make an incision over the infected portion of your shoulder. Because the infection may run deep I'm not sure how far I will be cutting. That part will hurt. This mixture I'm making will help to draw out the infection. That process is what will save your arm. It will also hurt very much. The final step is to examine your shoulder meticulously for any slivers of wood from the arrow or fragments of clothing, remove them, and then stitch you up.”

Kaz cut in. “Let me guess, that will also hurt.”

“Smart boy, you catch on quickly. The preparations are complete. Will I need to tie you down, or will you remain completely still?”

“I won't move,” Kaz said with determination.

The operation proceeded just as Kire had described, and Kaz, true to his word, remained still. Kire found a small sliver of wood from the arrow shaft that was causing the infection. When Kaz was stitched up, Kire presented him a metal cup with a warm liquid inside. “This will help make sure the infection does not spread. In the morning I will try to find some herbs to help with the pain, but for now try to get some sleep.”

The warm liquid soothed his throat as he gulped it down. He still ached all over and his shoulder throbbed with agony, but when he had found a slightly less uncomfortable position, his exhausted body fell asleep.

*****

Kaz was jarred into wakefulness when Kire’s cart came to a stop. He sat up and cringed against the pain in his head and arm. “How long was I asleep that time?” he asked.

“Most of the day,” Kire responded. “Fortunately you are looking a little better already. In a few weeks you should be back on your feet.” Kaz experimentally moved his arm and it throbbed with pain. “I said a few weeks, not a few minutes,” Kire said with a hint of reproach.

“Sorry, I was just seeing what would happen.” He responded. He was getting a little tired of Kire correcting him. And the way he seemed to analyze everything, or have a logical way of looking at things reminded him a lot of the things Bendar did to annoy Kaz.

“I know you were,” Kire answered. “From what I can piece together, that is what keeps getting you into trouble. You have a thought, and without considering, you jump into action and find yourself worse off than before.”

“Is that always so bad?” Kaz retorted quickly.

“What do you think?” Kire asked.

A long silence followed Kire's question. Kaz finally answered. “Sometimes you have to just act. I've never seen a problem solved by sitting around thinking about it.” He thought back to the caravan and how if he had acted more quickly, or if he had shot more carefully, perhaps Garin would have lived. He joined P because something needed to be done. All of Kire’s analyzing hadn’t helped the people in Omer’s realm.

“Have you ever had one of your problems solved without an adult swooping in to save you?” This question made Kaz angry and he was about to make a defensive comment in return, but as he looked to Kire, he saw that there was no accusation, no guile, just a sincere question for Kaz to think about.

“I'll have to get back to you on that one,” Kaz said with a smile.