The Key (7 page)

Darmik

Darmik left Usavo to rejoin the First Company passing nearby on its way to King’s City. He found them on the outskirts of Escenar, dismantling their camp in the early morning light.

“Good morning, Captain Phellek,” Darmik said.

Phellek was the captain of the First Company. Each company of the army consisted of four platoons, a lieutenant leading each one. Each platoon was further broken down into five units, a sergeant in charge of each. The units divided into three or four squads, a corporal leading them.

“We’ve been expecting you, Commander,” Phellek replied, bowing his head.

“Go ahead and give the order to mo
ve out.” The rain had lessened to a mist, but it was only a matter of time before it picked up again, and Darmik didn’t enjoy traveling in the rain.

Seconds later,
a horn blew and the captain yelled, “Positions!” In unison, one thousand soldiers lined up according to rank. The only soldiers on horseback were the officers and Darmik’s personal squad.

Darmik loved the organization and precision of his army. Once he considered having a competition between the squads to foster pride and efficiency, like they did at
Emperion’s military training school. However, Darmik realized there were better ways to achieve that goal. Having respect for themselves, their squads, and their army came from equal treatment—not competition. He wanted to instill fear among the people of Greenwood Island, but his army was a different matter. All Darmik’s experiences had taught him that fighting alongside one another in battle, and being willing to sacrifice one’s life for another, came from honor—not fear.

Phellek rode alongside Darmik with the flag ensign
to his right, carrying the kingdom’s flag along with the First Company’s emblem. Darmik liked Phellek. He was his oldest captain at forty-nine. Phellek was tall, with large shoulders and a square face. Even though his hair was turning gray, he still had the energy of a twenty-year-old soldier. Phellek had come with King Barjon from Emperion. He was part of the unit that stormed the royal castle, capturing the queen and bringing her to King Barjon for execution. After the invasion, Phellek worked his way up in the King’s Army, quickly becoming a sergeant and then a lieutenant.

When Darmik
had first joined the army, he was placed in the same company as Phellek, serving in his platoon. Phellek always had time for Darmik, often teaching him tricks with the sword or fighting tactics. After Darmik was promoted to lieutenant, Phellek gave Darmik his prized knife with a silver sun on the hilt. Often times, Phellek felt more like a father than his real one. And once Darmik was appointed Commander of the King’s Army, Darmik promoted Phellek to Captain of the First Company.

As t
hey began the slow journey back to King’s City, Darmik thought it wise to go through every single town possible. Normally, they’d bypass the cities in order to travel faster. However, Darmik wanted the civilians to see and feel the full force of the army, and one-thousand armored soldiers was quite a sight to behold.

R
iding in the lead, with hundreds of men following him, offered Darmik no semblance of peace. He preferred to travel with only his personal guard, a group of twenty men. Even then, it was difficult to hear one’s thoughts when bombarded with duties. Darmik was rarely alone or his own person—he was bound by obligations to his family and the crown.

O
n this particular journey, Darmik found his thoughts drifting to a certain blonde-haired girl. No matter how hard he tried to block Rema from his mind, she forced herself back in, refusing to be ignored. In the first two towns, Darmik kept searching faces, expecting to see her. It was wishful thinking on his part because she bore Jarko’s mark, and the king forbade traveling between regions. He’d never see her again, unless he went back to Jarko.

Riding through the third town of the day, Darmik saw a
blonde-haired girl standing on the side of the road near the blacksmith’s shop. Darmik pulled the reins of his horse, bringing him to a halt, but as the young girl moved into the shadows, he realized her hair was actually brown. She was also younger than Rema, her shoulders slightly hunched forward, her eyes cast downward—clearly not the confident girl he thought she was. Darmik rubbed his temple, nudging his horse on.

“Commander, is everything all right?” Phellek
leaned in close, asking in a fatherly tone. His eyes darted over to the girl.

Darmik sat up a little straighter in his saddle. “
I’m perfectly fine.”

Phellek nodded and didn’t address the matter
any further, but he glanced at Darmik, stifling a smile.

Leaving
the town, they traveled through large pastures where herds of horses grazed. The horses instinctively came to the fence by the road and ran alongside the army. Normally, Darmik loved the sight of the animals running free. Today, however, he found them distracting, as their beauty only reminded him of Rema.

The sun set as they reached
an open field large enough for the entire company to stop for the night. Even though the land was flat, Darmik liked the spot because it offered an excellent view of the surrounding area so they wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

Having just passed through the large city of Felgo, Darmik wanted to know if the rumor about an heir had spread to this town as well.

“Phellek, give the order to set up camp. I’m going to meet with my personal guard and do a little reconnaissance. No one is to know I’m gone.”

There was a look on Phellek’s face—like he wanted to partake in Darmik’s plans. Instead,
Phellek said, “Of course, Commander.” He raised his hand to signal the horn blower.

It took almost an hour to
unload the necessary supplies and assemble all the tents. After Darmik’s command center and sleep area were erected, he selected five men from his personal guard to accompany him. They changed into plain merchant clothing, and headed back toward the town.

A
full moon, bright enough to light the dirt road they traveled on, shone overhead. Darmik was happy to be walking, even though the air was cold. Since he had been riding his horse all day, it felt good to stretch his legs.

When they reached the outskirts of Felgo, Darmik
divided his men into three groups. He paired himself with Neco because they were both the same age and could easily pass for brothers or friends. Neco was a little taller than Darmik, and was neither skinny nor muscular. He kept his light brown, curly hair pulled back, away from his plain face. Darmik liked the fact that Neco’s physical stature allowed him to easily adapt and blend in with a crowd.

Darmik and Neco
walked down the main street of Felgo until they came to a rowdy tavern packed with town folk. They pushed through the swing doors and were assaulted by the smell of ale mixed with meat and potatoes. Weaving through the crowd, they found an empty, wooden table near the back, worn by the mugs of many men. 

Neco leaned forward in his chair. “Good view.”
The torches hanging on the walls cast an odd shadow over his face.

From where
Darmik sat, he could see most of the room. However, it was so loud that it was difficult to hear what anyone more than ten feet away was saying.

“The other groups should be arriving soon,” Darmik said. “I’m sure they’ll be in the thick of it.”

The first pair of undercover soldiers entered. Erikk and Chek were the army’s most proficient knife throwers, but that’s where the similarities ended. Erikk was tall with a beard and a full head of hair. Chek, on the other hand, was short, bald, and he loved to gamble. It was no surprise to Darmik when the pair made their way to the card table in the center of the room and joined the game already in progress.

The last
group entered. Borek and Traco were known for their exceptional skill at hand-to-hand combat. They could each take on five men armed with swords and beat them with their bare hands. Both men were stocky, muscular, and reminded Darmik of bears. Borek and Traco had no problem muscling their way to the front of the crowded bar to order drinks.

A
server slammed a bottle of ale on Darmik and Neco’s table, along with two mugs. She smiled at them before going back to the bar. While his men eavesdropped on the local gossip, Darmik sat back and watched. Body language often revealed more than words.

“
The girl on your left keeps batting her eyes at you,” Neco casually said.

A
few prostitutes lingered along the edge of the room near the stairs. One in particular smiled at Darmik, while fanning herself and blowing kisses in his direction.

“That may be,”
Darmik replied, “but I’m sure she’ll wait until I’m drunk and more generous with my money before propositioning me.”

Neco laughed. “Sure, I’d like to see that.” He finished his drink and
banged the cup on the table.

“Which part?” Darmik asked. “Me drunk or with a prostitute?”
That might be normal behavior for some of his soldiers, but it certainly wasn’t befitting of a commander or a prince—regardless of what Lennek thought.

“Either. All you ever do is work. It’d be nice to see you live a little.”
Neco refilled his mug to the rim.

Neco
had joined the army at fourteen and was placed in the same unit as Darmik. They’d fought their way out of more than one scrape together, like that time down in Lumen when their squad was attacked by a group of bandits. Everyone in the squad was killed except for Neco and Darmik. The two had battled for their lives. Eventually, the remaining bandits ran away, leaving Neco and Darmik standing alone, bruised, and worn. Neco fought with the same loyalty and determination as Darmik, never cowering in the fight. Since then, there was an unbreakable bond between the two of them, and they had been working together ever since. When Darmik formed his personal guard, he specifically chose Neco because Neco was highly perceptive, an excellent fighter, and a good friend.

But
now, this conversation had turned too serious for Darmik. His eyes darted around the room.

“Nothing out of the usual
tonight,” Neco observed.

“No.
It makes me suspicious when things are too ordinary.”

T
he server came back. They ordered bowls of stew and a loaf of bread. The people at the card table were getting rowdy. More men joined in, and there was a fairly large pile of money in the center of the table. Several others stood around watching the game. Cheering rang through the room—Erikk won. He ordered a round of drinks for everyone playing, and they began another game.

Borek
and Traco were still at the bar, Borek in conversation with some of the locals. After finishing the stew, Darmik and Neco stood and made their way to the exit.

“Ah,” Neco sighed, “poor girl’s crying you’re leaving without making her
acquaintance
.” Neco laughed, putting a hand on Darmik’s shoulder. “We can wait ten minutes for you.” His head nodded toward the prostitute.

Darmik knew Neco well enough to tell he was joking
, but Darmik couldn’t help the flush that came over his face when his thoughts turned to Rema. He imagined what holding her in his arms would feel like.

Outside, the
cool air cleared Darmik’s head. He and Neco walked north until they found a dark doorway. Leaning against the rough wooden wall, they both remained in shadows, hidden from the street.

“So,” Neco began, “when
’s the last time you were with a girl? Please tell me you’ve been with someone since Jarcy.”

Hearing
Jarcy’s name made Darmik’s spine go stiff. The ale boiled in his stomach. “That’s enough,” he snarled.

Neco raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend you.”

Footsteps approached. “There you are,” Erikk said softly as he and Chek joined them in the shadows.

“Mighty good time
,” Chek said, shaking his pocket, the sound of money jingling inside.

“Any news?” Darmik asked
, his voice raspy. They shook their heads.

Two dark figures stood on the opposite side of the street. One shifted
, revealing his massive size, and Darmik could tell it was Borek and Traco.