The Outlaw King: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book One (28 page)
Read The Outlaw King: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book One Online
Authors: Craig Saunders
His
captors dumped Tarn unceremoniously in a dingy cell, more shadow than light
although there was a small window high up in the wall. From the angle of the
light streaming down, Tarn guessed it was midday.
His
captors removed his bindings before striding off, keys jangling against
chainmail, which stretched to their knees. Both had been armed, and Tarn had
been too weak to do anything about his momentary freedom. His muscles were
stretched to breaking point as it was.
His
head still pounded.
There
was nothing to do. Experimentally, he tried to lift his arms above his head,
but they were next to useless. He let his hands flop against his lap as he sat
on a small wooden bench, the only furnishing in the cell.
A
phlegmy laugh came from a dark corner, and Tarn jumped.
‘I
see you, little king. He does not know, does he? But I do.’
Tarn
was shocked at the words, but no more so than when his eyes adjusted to the
meagre light. He strained his vision and looked into the corner where the words
came from, and saw a form hunched there, chained by both arms against the wall.
‘Who
are you?’
‘My
masters called me Y’xithil,’ he said.
‘That
is a strange name.’
‘Come
closer.’
Warily,
Tarn approached the man. He was chained, and no threat, but Tarn was taking no
more chances, especially as he was so weak.
He
looked like no man Tarn had ever seen. The man cackled wildly at Tarn from the
depths of the cell. Tarn moved in for a closer look. Sores were erupting on the
man's face and arms. Tarn dreaded to think what was happening under the cover
of his crumbling robe.
‘What
are you?’ he said, trying to keep his voice even, although his disgust must
have been evident.
‘I
was once the Thane’s advisor. But no more. I am abandoned. He saw through me
while that weak pretender Hurth could not see the truth. I am no man.’
His
features were almost human, but his gaunt face was somehow alien, as though he
bordered on humanity but never quite managed it.
‘Yes,
but what are you?’ Tarn found himself fascinated.
‘I
am a Hierarch. We are your masters. Bow to me.’ Y’xithil laughed wildly at
this.
He
was obviously delirious, but with his sores, who wouldn’t be?
‘The
Thane of Naeth has an advisor that is of the same race, and he wants you dead.
Yet here you are with me, and I am disgraced, and forgotten. My masters’
foresight is not what it once was. I was to be the Thane of Spar’s advisor, but
his mind was stronger and he saw the evil there. I have been captive ever
since. But I will not tell them where I come from. Nor you, for your fate is to
be great. I have seen the future, even if their vision is flawed.’
Tarn
didn’t know what the man was talking about. ‘Do you know me?’ he asked.
In
obvious delirium the creature spoke with halting words, ‘Humanity is like a
waterfall, my misshapen friend. It starts out in some long forgotten past, and
flows ever onward, until it carves out a niche for itself in the rock bed of
the mountains. That is where humanity lies at the present, waiting to join the
great rivers. Even so, your place found, it is a human’s lot to move on, ever
onward, and join the sea, where eventually all life becomes one. Perhaps, one
day, each man will remember where he first joined the flow, and the passage
that took him into the great body. Until then, Tarn, look forward to the sea,
for it is majestic.’
‘How
do you know my name?’
‘I
see much, little king. I see that you will never be king. But neither will
Hurth. You are like night and day, in between you only leave shades of grey,
and no one, not even my race, can tell the future without a palette of colours
to paint it with.’
Tarn
sat on the floor before the Hierarch. ‘What is going on here?’ he asked, in a
conspiratorial whisper, even though no one would be able to hear him.
‘We
saw the future. This small nation of yours, pathetic and always crumbling as it
rises, falling back to ashes, has a great future in store. Once there were no
people here, just beasts and birds, but you came, and you lived, against all
possibility, carving a niche for yourself. My race had not foreseen the future
then. But we know now. We would chain your people before the Return. I was to
rule through Redalane, but he saw me for what I am. Hurth is not so perceptive.
There is another of my kind with him, a being of greater power than I, called
Merilith. Our masters have seen the role your line plays, and they are afraid.
I am dying, though, and can do nothing about it. They have forsaken me, and I
would see them suffer.
‘I
would have you live, king of kings. That will be my revenge.’ He laughed,
sending specks of pus from his cracked lips. Tarn cringed and wiped them from
his shirt. ‘I am a petty creature, as are we all. Perhaps that will be our
downfall. It would amuse me greatly to see that day come.’
‘What
can I do, though? Merilith will know me for what I am, and I will be killed.
You will not have your revenge.’
The
creature shook its head. It was so like a man, Tarn would have almost believed
it was merely a gaunt human.
‘I
have the gift of foresight. There is a way out.’
‘You
know of some secret passage?’
‘No,
but I know what you must do. You must trust Redalane. He is an honest man. You
must, in turn, be honest with him. It is your only chance. He is stronger than
I would have imagined. He is strong with compassion, and sensibilities. Tell
him the truth. He will see the way.’
‘I
cannot do that. He will let Hurth execute me. He already plans to trade me.’
Tarn
saw a ghost of a smile play across the Hierarch’s lips. ‘Trust that I have
nothing to gain by seeing your death, and that I have powers which you cannot
understand. You must do this my way, or your death is certain. Tell him the
truth, he will set you free.’
Tarn
was silent for a moment. The strange creature regarded him without rancour, but
with the light of hope in its eyes.
Perhaps
it wanted Tarn to die. Tarn could not discount that possibility. It might be
evil, but Tarn could sense no intent to harm him. Besides, he reasoned, the
Thane intended to send him to Hurth regardless, and Hurth knew who he was. He
would certainly die if he did nothing about it.
‘I
will think on what you have said.’
‘Think
not too long. Redalane will return soon. Your time here is short, regardless of
your decision. But I would ask one favour of you, in return for my saving of
your life.’
‘And
what would that be? I am in no position to grant favours.’
‘It
is one you can manage, little king. I would ask that you end my suffering. My
kind usually enjoy pain, but I am rotting from the outside in. I would not wait
for madness to set in.’
‘I’m
not sure it hasn’t already,’ said Tarn truthfully.
‘I
am a seer. I may seem insane, but I am not yet that far gone. I would die
before that happens.’
Tarn
was loath to kill the pathetic creature, but then he would not hesitate to put
down a diseased animal. It would be a kindness. But he remained unsure as to
whether the creature deserved any kindness.
‘We
will see.’
‘Indeed
we will,’ said Y’thixil. ‘But know one last thing, before I fade.’
‘What
would that be?’ asked Tarn.
‘Redalane
has a son. Hurth holds him captive within his castle. Only tell him this if all
else fails. It will bring emotion to the fore, and I cannot guarantee a
favourable outcome should that happen.’
Tarn
wanted to ask the creature more, but it fell silent apart from the ragged sound
of tortured breathing.
Tarn
returned to the bench, where he lay with his hands crossed over his chest, and
pondered his options.
Redalane
was not rumoured to be a cruel man. He was thought a just ruler by all within
his reach, fair and hard by turns. Criminals were granted trial, sometimes in
absence if they could not be found, but most were given a chance to defend
themselves against accusations. But Tarn had been given no such opportunity. It
did not seem right, from what he knew of the Thane. There must be some reason
the Thane would hand him over to Hurth. Tarn knew there was no love lost
between the two Thanes. He thought the Thane hoped to exchange him for his son.
If that was the case, it would go hard for Tarn.
But
then perhaps his crime, of banditry, was harsh enough to warrant extradition.
He had, after all, been party to the slaughter of the Thane of Naeth’s men. But
he had been wanted since well before that.
No,
the Thane of Spar knew Hurth wanted him, but Tarn did not think Redalane knew
why.
Tarn
mulled the problem over for an hour, until he drifted into a doze.
*
He
first became aware that he had fallen asleep when the rattling of keys woke
him. A key scrapped against the lock, and light came in from torches burning in
the hallway. A guard entered, carrying a food tray. He put food beside the
bench, and a bowl of cold gruel within reach of Y’thixil. The Hierarch did not
seem to notice. He had a faraway look in his eyes, and Tarn guessed he would
not be coherent even if he were to speak.
‘Eat
your food, boy. You are our guest after all, we can’t have you starving before
the trade.’
‘I
need to speak to the Thane.’
The
guard laughed with apparent good humour. ‘You’re a fine one. A pardon, is it?’
‘No,
I have news that will change everything.’
‘Why
don’t you tell me? I’m all ears.’
‘I
cannot. But I can tell you this: I know why the Thane of Naeth wants me. Tell
your Captain, if you must, and I will talk to him. You know I am due to be
transferred to the Thane of Naeth’s custody?’
‘I
don’t know anything, boy. I just know you are not to be harmed. But if you
insist on prattling I might have to teach you some manners.’
Tarn
sighed. ‘I am too weak to argue, but tell your Captain I am more valuable than
the Thane realises. If the Thane will see me, even if I have to be in chains, I
will tell him what he wants to know. He will see me.’
‘That’s
what they all say.’
‘Tell
him!’
The
urgency in Tarn’s voice must have swayed him, because after an hour or so
passed – Tarn could not tell the passage of time – another man appeared at the
door to the cell. He had intelligence evident in his eyes, something which had
been noticeably absent in the guard. Tarn assumed he was the guard captain.
‘I
am intrigued. I know you are going to be transferred. You are not our usual
type of customer-- a bandit king, no less. What have you to say?’
‘I
was wanted before I was a bandit king. The Thane knows this.’
‘Aye,
I believe he does.’
‘Are
you the Captain?’
‘That
I am. You are young to be a leader of bandits. I heard they were led by a man
who could not die.’
‘The
rumours were exaggerated. I killed him.’
The
Captain eyed him warily. ‘Perhaps you did, boy, but it changes nothing. What
would you have me tell the Thane?’
‘Tell
him I know who killed the king.’
The
man laughed. Tarn hid his irritation. Everyone seemed to laugh at him in this
cell. He was not finding it to his liking.
‘That
was over twenty years ago. No one cares about that now. It was well before your
birth.’
‘Just
tell him that. He will speak to me.’
The
guard tutted and closed the door.
Tarn
could only wait.
*
Days
passed, and no one came to see him. The guards brought food, and Tarn implored
them to have the Thane see him, but they mocked him, or simply ignored him. No
one laid a hand on him, and Tarn did not try to escape. If he was forced to, he
would try to escape when they moved him north on the open road, when he stood a
better chance.
He
recovered from the blow that knocked him senseless, and spoke to Y’thixil
during the Hierarch’s lucid moments, but these were few and far between. He
questioned the creature, but mostly it just rambled. Sometimes Tarn doubted the
strange being could even see him. It was as if it was in a trance.
Then,
on the third day of his imprisonment, Y’thixil looked up and called him over.
‘Now
you really do owe me a favour. I have brought the Thane to you. Do what I said
and you will be set free.’
‘What
are you talking about? Called him to me?’
‘He
comes. I have a little power left. Now leave me. I am in pain. I will leave
this body again. In my dreams I am at least whole.’
And
Tarn could get nothing else out of him. But, against all reason, the door to
the cell opened and Tarn saw Redalane standing there.
‘I
am curious, bandit, as to why you are wanted. It seems I cannot stop thinking
about it. Who are you to Hurth?’
A
guard stood beside him. ‘I can only tell you. What I have to say is too
important for other ears to hear. Rumours travel fast, I have learned.’
‘Likely.
I hear you are swift. You would no doubt try to kill me.’
‘Then
put me in chains. We must talk for I fear time is short.’
Tarn
could see Redalane mulling this over. Whatever Y’thixil had done, he seemed to
have planted the seed of curiosity in the man.
‘Do
it,’ he ordered the guard.
Chained,
Tarn sat on the bench. The Thane told the guard to wait down the hall, and Tarn
began to speak.
‘Hurth
killed the king, back when he was young. The king’s son was never found. He was
my father. That is why the Thane cannot wear the crown, because the line of
kings still lives, in me. He wants me dead so he can take the crown. If he is king,
he will rule this land with terror and iron.’
Redalane
watched him for signs of insanity, but he did not laugh. There was an intensity
about Tarn’s eyes that almost forbade laughter. ‘And why would I believe you?’
‘Do
you deny that the Thane of Naeth wishes to be king?’
‘No,
I do not. But what proof have you of your claim?’
‘I
could wear the crown. Bring me the crown and I will prove it.’
‘I
can no more remove the crown than I believe a leader of bandits to be the
king’s grandson.’
‘With
the crown, I could prove it to you. But without your assistance, I could get
it. I could kill the Thane. If you release me.’
‘I
cannot do that. Whoever you are, you are valuable enough to trade. Hurth holds
my son hostage.’
‘I
am sorry, my lord. If you trust me, I will get him back for you. Even if you do
not trust me, to give me to the Thane of Naeth would make you a vassal, and you
might never get your son back.’
The
Thane seemed to be seriously thinking about Tarn’s claim. Tarn thought Y’thixil
had no small part to play. It seemed that the Thane was acting under his own
volition, but was more receptive to what Tarn told him. A subtle glamour,
perhaps, of Y’thixil’s invention. It seemed the creature was not without power,
still.
‘I
can kill the Thane,’ he said, pushing just a little.
‘Believe
me, boy, I have sent assassins before, but he always seems to know what is
coming.’
‘That
is because he has an advisor, a creature like this one, chained here. He can
see the future. He knows when an assassin comes. But he will not see me. I have
been shielded from all magic. I can pass undetected. And I have men. With your
support I could get in. But you must set me free to kill the Thane, or my life
is forfeit.’
‘I
would like to see him dead for what he has done to me. I will think on it.’
Whatever
spell the Hierarch had laid on him seemed to be working. Tarn just hoped it
would last for long enough.
‘Will
you release my companion? What are his crimes?’
‘While
I sense no evil in you, he is pure malice. I would no more unchain him than I
would pet a rabid dog. Besides, I still think you are in no position to make
requests. Goodbye, for now.’
Tarn
silently watched him go. It was a great gamble, telling the Thane of his
heritage, but he hoped it would pay off.
*
