He woke with a grinding pain in the back of his head. The world slowly came to light around him, and his eyes struggled to focus. He could vaguely feel the sheets above him, the mattress below, and that smell... He was in the inn.
The inn... The One-Eyed Crow in Lohan. Where the Hero Competition took place. Dart had fought in it... and then...
He jolted upright. Nobody was in the dark room, but his heart was racing. Memories of the night before flooded back to him in a rush: the soldier, the blood, the arrow, the king. King Albert was in danger.
He leapt out of his bed, but stopped short when he saw a form in the other. The sheet was pulled over it, and he could not really make it out, but it seemed to hold the rough shape of a body.
Is Dart still sleeping? he wondered. What time is it?
But something was wrong. He stepped over to the bed and lifted a shaky hand. Maybe it had all been a bad dream. Maybe there was a happy letter from the king downstairs, inviting them back to the safe castle. Maybe this really was Dart, still asleep in the early hours of the morning.
He pulled back the sheet and cried out. Before him lay the cold stare of the knight from before, who had delivered news of the siege on Bale. He struggled to draw in breath, stumbling backward. Suddenly, blood was pooling on the sheets, dripping on the floor. He screamed and shut his eyes tightly. He didn't want to see any more.
But then he felt heat and wind on his face. Opening his eyes again, he saw Bale. He stood on the balcony of Indels Castle, overlooking the city, engulfed in flame. A voice cried out from behind him.
"Lavitz!" He wanted to turn, to see the face. He could hear the pain in that voice, but his muscles would not respond to his commands.
"Lavitz!" it cried again, this time in pain. The fires grew closer, edging their way toward him, and he tried to move.
Once more, the voice rang out. "Lavitz, please help me! Please!"
This was it. The flames licked at his feet while his heart pounded. He needed to help. He had to help.
A piercing shriek rang through his mind, and a moment later, his feet hit the bare floor of the inn.
"Albert!" he screamed.
He crashed to his knees, heart pounding, tears streaming down his face. He struggled to breathe. Several hands reached out to him, and he heard familiar voices call his name as the hands lifted him off the floor.
"Lavitz, it was just a dream!"
He turned his eyes up and met the icy blue of Dart's, filled with concern.
"Dart," he said weakly.
"It's me," replied Dart. "You're in Lohan. With friends."
Lavitz glanced around the room. Shana was close to him, supporting his other arm. Haschel stood nearby, and Rose watched eerily from the corner. Taking several deep breaths, Lavitz steadied himself, and Dart and Shana pulled back. He struggled to grip onto reality, but the horrifying dream was still berating his mind.
"The king," he said. "We have to-"
"We will," interrupted Dart. "But we have to talk before we just rush out without a plan."
Nodding, Lavitz fell onto the bed and put his face in his hands, elbows piercing his knees a little too sharply. He could still see the dead eyes, the blood, the fire. He could still hear the king's voice shouting.
"The soldier," he said suddenly, eyes trained on Dart's empty bed. "Where is he?"
A shadow passed over the room, and Shana answered softly.
"He's... gone. After last night, the city guards came and took the body. We asked if we could bury him, but they needed to look over it first."
Last night... "What time is it?"
"Still morning," said Dart. "Probably a couple hours until noon."
"So we can leave soon?" The cries rang in the back of his head, and he stood abruptly. His head swam, but he ignored it. "We have to get to King Albert."
"Rushing off with no information is the best way to get you killed," inserted Haschel, his harsh tone making Lavitz flinch. "You should know this better than anyone, Lavitz. When a knight loses self-control, his lord cannot be saved."
"I..." began Lavitz. Then shaking his head, "I know. I'm sorry, guys."
Ignoring the apology, Haschel continued. "That soldier caused quite an uproar in the city. I woke early this morning to find out any more information, and as fate would have it, a courier came just after dawn, crying out the news about Bale."
"What happened?"
"It seems that a mighty company of Sandora soldiers managed to sneak their way all the way north to Bale, where they laid the city under siege with the promise that it would end should the king offer himself as prisoner. After a few days, he did so, to protect the people, but they didn't leave, of course. Judging from the sound of it, I'd say your knight was lucky to make it out alive."
Lavitz's mind reeled. "Can we make it back? Free the city?"
"No. There are almost two thousand soldiers outside the gates."
"But we're dragoons," he protested. "We should be able to-"
"Even dragoons have their limits," interrupted Rose. "It would be foolish to attack without an army."
Settling onto the bed once more, Lavitz felt tears pushing at his eyes. He knew there was no stopping them; he let them fall. Was this how Dart had felt with Shana sick? This feeling of helplessness, of failure, grief, and pain. The feeling that some small thing done differently could have changed everything. How much time had they wasted at the tournament while King Albert had suffered?
He sensed Shana sitting next to him, comforting him as she had that day in the Seventh Fort.
"We're going to rescue King Albert," she said softly.
"She's right," said Dart. "We'll leave before the day is out."
"Shana," said Lavitz, wiping his face. "To do that, we'll have to go back to Hellena Prison."
He did not imagine the fear and pain that washed over her face when she said, "I know." But she smiled as she added, "But it won't be as a prisoner this time."
He grinned at that. They would not be prisoners. They would not be bound. They were dragoons, and they would raid the prison with all the power and wrath that was warranted by such treason.
Later that day, they stood outside the city, across the great merchant road and surrounded by trees. They'd spent an hour digging into the hard earth, sweating with every push of the shovel, until a grave had been formed among the tough roots of the trees. A constant breeze, courtesy of Lavitz, had kept him and Haschel from overheating in the heat of the day, although Dart hadn't really been affected. Now, with the work done, Dart and Lavitz carefully lowered the soldier's body into the ground before covering it again with earth.
Lavitz couldn't help the tears that flooded his eyes as he spoke the traditional words of burial used in the Serdian military. His lips trembled, and more than once, he had to pause to steady his voice. Rose stood by somberly, Shana wept openly, and Dart seemed merely uncomfortable. Haschel, however, showed a remarkable amount of reverence that Lavitz would never have expected from him.
At last, they stood in silence, and Lavitz wiped the tears from his face.
"I didn't even know his name," he said.
"There's nothing wrong with that," said Shana through a quiet sob.
"He gave his life for his country. For the king. And I can't remember his name."
"Nobody can blame you for that," insisted Dart.
"But I've seen him before!" protested Lavitz. "I've had dinner with him. I think... I think I remember... I don't know. He had a friend. They were always together. But I..." Breaking down into sobs, he fell to the ground, holding his head in his hands. "I can't remember his name..."
"Lavitz," said Dart gently, kneeling beside him. "We can remember him, even if we don't know his name. We owe it to him to get up and keep moving. That's the best way to honor his sacrifice."
"He's right," said Rose, stepping forward. "We've done all we can for him. It's time for us to get moving. Or have you forgotten about your king so easily?"
Rage flared inside Lavitz. To accuse him of forgetting his sovereign was insulting beyond belief, and he stood abruptly, tears still wetting his face, and rounded on her.
"Don't you ever-" He stopped midsentence, even as Rose seemed disgustingly pleased with herself. He couldn't afford an outburst like this. Even after what had happened, he was still a knight of Basil. He was still the leader of the First Knighthood.
Or was he? With Bale captured, Basil was in splinters. His knighthood was gone, dead, left behind without even a burial. What was he now? A lone soldier with barely the power to control his own emotions?
He took a deep breath. Whatever he was, he would still save King Albert.
"I'm sorry," he said, looking at her. "I haven't forgotten him. I never could. And we're going to go get him."
"How?" interjected Haschel. "I've heard of Hellena. It's supposed to be impenetrable."
"Not entirely," replied Lavitz with a glance at Dart.
"Yeah, remember?" said Dart. "I broke in once, and then all three of us broke out. And that was before we had dragoon spirits."
"I see..." said Haschel thoughtfully. "Do you have a plan then?"
Lavitz shook his head. "Not yet, but we can make one up along the way. Let's go." And with that he turned on his heel and headed for the city.
An hour later, the five were riding out of the city gates and turning south. Although they were in a great hurry, they didn't want to become a spectacle; they maintained a slow walk for almost a mile while the city was still visible. The slow pace pulled against Lavitz's heart, which was already much farther south with the king. During the ride, he brought up a mental map of Serdio and tried to estimate how long it would be until they arrived. With a sigh of frustration, he settled on three days, maybe two if they were quick.
"We're going to make it," said Dart from just behind him. Glancing back, Lavitz tried to smile as Dart drew his horse up closer. "We haven't failed yet, and we won't. We'll rescue the king."
"If we can get there fast enough."
"What makes you think the king is even still alive?" chimed in Rose. "They could have executed him as soon as he made it to the Sandora camp."
"No," said Lavitz, shaking his head. "They would have taken him prisoner. Doel is all about showmanship; he'll want to parade King Albert around for a little while to flaunt his victory. Besides... Doel probably wants something else."
"Like what?" asked Dart.
Instantly, Lavitz regretted his words. What Doel wanted was a sacred secret of Basil, one that should not be divulged to just anyone. As far as he knew, he was one of four people who even knew of its existence. Five, I guess, he considered. Doel must have known. But although he trusted Dart, Lavitz was not sure that he was ready to hand off his beloved nation's secrets so easily. Perhaps... limit the truth, he compromised.
"There is a... treasure that marks the true king of Serdio. Only the reigning monarch knows where it is, plus a few trusted advisors. It is likely that Doel wants it, and will try to get the information out of King Albert before he kills him."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt lesser for them. Already these people knew more than any civilian or castle servant in Bale knew. What was he becoming? Handing these people such valuable information put his own life on the line. Would the king even be happy to see him? Or would he chastise him for his inaction? For giving up so much for these people? The look of disappointment from King Albert would be enough to crush him.
"Then we can use that to our advantage," announced Dart. "We just have to make it to the prison before Doel decides he has no more use of him."
Nodding, Lavitz said, "Exactly." Then glancing back at the distant city on the edge of the horizon, he added, "So let's pick up the pace."
He urged his horse into a gallop, the others following suit. They could travel by road for most of the day, but as they eased closer to Kazas, Lavitz knew that they would be in greater danger. They would have to leave the road in favor of the dark trees and hope that secrecy could carry them the rest of the way. No doubt, Emperor Doel had already received word of a dying Basilian soldier in Lohan and had put his soldiers on high alert to make sure nobody tried to make it to the prison.
They rode hard for the next several hours, and soon the great Bay of Aquaria shone brightly on their right. The ocean water sloughed noisily against the rocky shore, giving music to the rough beat of the horses' hooves. An hour later, they had to maneuver precariously on the narrowing road between the cliffs of the Serdian Mountains and the slick rocks dipping into the ocean.
Lavitz had traveled this road many times in the past, and he knew that it was the fastest way to get to Kazas from Lohan. However, he also knew it to be the most dangerous. While he was wearing his forest green Basil armor, no Sandora soldier would let them pass under the guise of simple travelers or mercenaries. All he could do was pray that no soldiers crossed their path.
Eventually the road widened again, the rocky ground giving way to a lush forest, just as the sun began to sink into the bay. As the light dwindled, they slowed as Lavitz indicated that they should leave the road. He hated to do so, as it would greatly slow their travel time, but he couldn't risk getting caught and taken to Kazas. The stakes were too high. Already the sacrifice of the Basilian soldier played before his mind, and the dead, empty eyes from his dream. He could not let the king join that nightmare.
For another couple hours, they rode on, weaving through the trees. They grew ever tighter, and Lavitz's irritation only built as their progress seemed to all but stop. Eventually, they found a small clearing and decided to make camp there. As they all dismounted, it was clear that Haschel was exhausted, being the only one of them without dragoon power, and Lavitz felt guilty that they had not stopped sooner. However, Haschel had made no complaint, and didn't seem to be preparing to argue now. Pleased, Lavitz decided that he and Dart could rotate watches and let the others sleep.
"I don't think we should make a fire tonight," he said casually. He may have been putting on a brave face, but in reality, he was struggling to contain the fear and worry that had been coursing through him since they'd left Lohan. If not for him, none of these people would be walking into danger, and he wanted them to feel safe, if only for another two days.
"He's right," mumbled Haschel, who was already lying down, sprawled across his bedroll. "The light could..." He moved his hand lazily toward the south. "Could let 'em know."
Lavitz exchanged an amused glance with Dart and Shana before Dart said, "'Let 'em know' what, Haschel?" Shana stifled a giggle, and a minute later, loud snores filled the clearing.
"Now that's what will tell them where we are," laughed Lavitz.
Stepping over to him, Dart grinned, kicked Haschel lightly in the side, and said, "Hey, roll over! You snore like an old man."
Haschel jolted, then rolled onto his side and mumbled something incoherent. Thankfully, the snoring dwindled to a minor rustle, and the rest continued to make camp. As movement died down, silence fell over them, and the sounds of the night crept in.
Lavitz missed the warmth of the fire, but he was content to be close to his friends. Rose had already lay down to sleep, but Dart and Shana were still sitting up. Although clouds had covered the bright light of the moon, Lavitz was still fairly certain that both of them were watching him. After several more minutes of uncomfortable silence, Lavitz spoke.
"You guys can go to sleep. I'll take first watch."
"Lavitz..." said Shana gently. After a moment, he looked up to meet her soft gaze. "Are you okay?"
"I think so," he said, turning away to look at the dark trees. The delicate knot of his emotions was threatening to come undone, and he did not want them to see it. For the first time since he was very young, he was ashamed.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Without thinking, he scoffed. "What is there to talk about?" he asked skeptically. Shana's delicate words may as well have been a sword, cutting through the knot and splaying it open to the world. "My failure as a knight? My loss of self-control? My absence during Bale's greatest time of need? There's nothing to talk about, because those things are in the past. They already happened. I can't go back and change them now." He took in a breath, sorry for his outburst. Shana drew back from his harsh tone, and regret prickled in his chest. He could already feel the tears working their way out of his eyes, and he quickly apologized.
"I'm sorry, Shana. I shouldn't have said it like that. I'm just... frustrated."
"Then talk to us about it," she pleaded. "We're your friends. You can tell us anything."
Sending glances between them, Lavitz contemplated. Shana was sincere, and Dart looked uncomfortable but earnest. Why had it suddenly become so hard to talk to them? What had been effortless just days before, now left him feeling weak and vulnerable. But these were his friends, as Shana had said. They'd been there for him when no one else was.
"I feel like... like it's my fault," he began. "That King Albert got captured. If I had been in Bale when the attack came, maybe I could have done something to help. And now... what is a knight with no home to protect? And what if we're too late? What if King Albert is dead when we get there? I'll have lost everything. I won't even know who I am anymore."
"You're not defined by where you come from, no matter how grand or splendid it is," replied Shana. "And whatever happens, you will still be you. You are kind, thoughtful, generous, and selfless. You're honorable. You have been the best friend to us that we could have asked for. It wasn't some knight who's taken us this far. It was you. You're not just a knight of Basil and servant of a king. You're Lavitz."
"She's right," interrupted Dart. "We wouldn't have gotten this far without you. We followed you before we even really knew what you were about. And this isn't any different. We're following you right now because of your friendship, not just out of a sense of duty to the throne."
The tears fell freely now. All at once, he realized that these people were his home. He belonged with them, more than he had belonged anywhere else. He'd known nothing but war since before his father died, and then Dart and Shana had changed all of that. They had woken him out of a stupor that had been sitting over him for fifteen years. To think that he may soon be free of it all... If they could just get to King Albert, they might just be able to end the war, and he could finally take a vacation.
"Thank you..." he struggled to say. After a moment, able to breathe evenly again, he added, "I've been fighting my demons for so long and just trying to be the man my father wanted me to be, that I lost track of who I was. I've gotten so good at being the knight of Basil that I forgot how to be Lavitz. And being with you guys has allowed me to be myself again. I couldn't ask for better friends."
As they grinned over at him, he felt a peace settle over the clearing. With Haschel and Rose asleep, it almost felt like they were back in eastern Serdio, just the three of them on the run from Hellena guards, tramping through the prairie. Life was simpler then, with only their lives to worry about, and no others. There had been no king to save, no dragoon power to fuss about, and nowhere to go but forward.
Now, of course, was much different. Settling into their bedrolls, Dart and Shana sought sleep while Lavitz sat awake, watching over them. Tilting his head back against a tree, he watched the leaves swaying in a breeze and felt it rustling his hair. With sudden realization, he rattled the shaggy mess atop his head and cursed himself for not finding a barber in Lohan. Through his years in the military, he'd grown accustomed to short hair, and this long stuff that he could grab tightly made him feel stifled. He reached for a knife just as a westerly gust rushed past, causing Shana to stir slightly.
Calm down. It's just hair, he scolded, letting the winds die. Then holding the strands up carefully, he cut through it, being careful not to scalp himself. He wasn't so sure that Shana could heal that kind of wound. A few minutes later, he ran his fingers through his short hair once again before smugly replacing the sharp blade.
I should probably have Shana fix it tomorrow, he conceded to himself. No doubt he looked like a multi-faceted blonde gemstone.
The next few hours passed dully, with no entertainment but the pulsing glow of his dragoon spirit, which he pulled out frequently. Although he believed that they were safe, he also knew that they were no more than a few miles north of Kazas, and that gave him pause. It was a comfort to know that they were no longer helpless warriors, but powerful dragoons. Only Haschel might truly be vulnerable should they be attacked, and he seemed to be able to handle himself in a fight. Still, Lavitz grew steadily more nervous as the night wore on, and funneled his anxious energy into practicing his control of the wind. Holding a leaf in his hand, he tried to focus the wind into a point, stabbing the leaf like a needle, but it proved a difficult venture. More than once, he blew the leaf so hard that it flew away, and he was forced to retrieve another.
Finally, as his watch was coming to an end, he managed it. With a sharp whistle that he hoped wouldn't wake the others, the wind shot through the leaf at amazing speeds, opening a tiny hole no bigger than a sewing needle. With utter satisfaction, he repeated the process several times until he had spelled out an L with the small dots. Grinning widely, he pocketed the leaf, then stood and walked over to Dart, who he woke with a jolt before lying down to sleep.
"Oof!"
He fell face-first with a grunt onto the black stone floor. A perpetual breeze ran over him, forcing him to blink repeatedly. He licked his lips, dried and cracked from so long without water.
"Get up!" cried a voice behind him.
Rolling onto his bare back, feeling the cold of the stone against his skin, he sat up and stood. His aching wrists screamed from behind him, the irons rubbing against the sensitive skin as the guard pulled sharply on a chain, almost sending him to the ground once again. But he remained steady, taking several weary steps toward the burly man, who grinned with yellow and black teeth as he locked the chain to a pillar and tugged to make sure it would stay. Then the guard turned and headed for the stairs, several feet beyond the reach of the chains.
"Wait!" he called out, and the guard turned. "Please, I am in need of water."
With a cruel smile, the guard said, "You have no servants here, Your Majesty." And he turned down the stairs.
Sighing heavily, King Albert sat down and leaned awkwardly against the pillar. His shoulders were sore from days of holding this strained position, and he wanted nothing more than to stretch his arms. But his wrists were rubbed raw from his vain efforts to escape his fetters, and he could not quite bring himself to continue to try. It seemed a futile effort.
Glancing around the room, he assessed his situation. He sat on a round platform high above the earth, covered with a ceiling supported with seven great columns arranged in a circle. Between the columns, he could see far out into the wilds of Serdio. To the west lay the Serdian Mountains, to the north the rolling hills of eastern Serdio, and to the south and east, endless ocean. He would have enjoyed the view had the circumstances been different.
He had to believe that his plan would work. Lavitz would get the message and come for him. If not... He hated to consider what evils may come to his people.
He knew that Isaac had gotten at least most of the way to Lohan, but had also tried to take on the Hellena guards protecting the carriage. The king recalled the familiar voice as the Basilian soldier called out in search of him, so brave in the face of such odds. He remembered shouting at him to leave and run, receiving a painful fist on his jaw in return, but there was no way of knowing if Isaac had managed to escape alive. All that was left to the king was hope. Blind hope.
The merciless wind continued to whip past him, working strands of hair out of the loose ponytail struggling to hold them back. No matter how abrasive and irritating the hair became, he could not work his hands free to brush it back into place. For the next several minutes, he wished desperately that he had cut it short long ago.
Suddenly, heavy footfalls sounded from the stairs, and two men eased into his sight. One was the same guard as before, carrying a bucket from which could be heard the sloshing of water. The other was a great, ugly man, wearing trousers, a cape that was far too short for his tall figure, and a horned helmet. His left hand hefted a heavy club, but most noticeable was his bulging belly, holding all the food shipments of the past several weeks. The smaller guard stepped forward and placed the bucket of water just within reach of the chain.
"Fruegel," breathed Albert.
"You've heard of me," the brute replied smugly. "And of course, I've heard of you, Your Majesty." The last two words reeked of mockery, and the king swallowed. "Come, we brought you refreshments." He gestured to the bucket.
"How am I to drink when my hands are yet bound?"
"Oh, this is no royal castle, where you are waited on hand and foot, and your every whim is indulged. You'll have to make do without hands or cup."
Disdain rose in the king's heart, but he could not deny the burning thirst in his throat. Stumbling to his feet, he approached the bucket and knelt before it, then hesitated.
"Yes, O great king," mocked Fruegel once more. "Drink it. Like a dog."
Struggling to contain his anger, the king focused on the water. Being a king made him no better than any of his people, and he would not let his pride be his downfall. He bent forward and drank deeply of the water, though it tasted strongly of metal. With no hands available to stop it, several locks of hair fell in with a quiet splash, and when he pulled back, the cold water trickled down his back. He stood and glared up at Fruegel.
"So what does the good emperor want with me?" he asked, not deigning to sound grateful for such a trite gift.
"If your people could see you now..." said Fruegel. "What would they think of such a disgraced king?"
Ignoring the taunt, the king asked again, "What does Doel want?"
"How am I to know?" asked Fruegel. "He doesn't tell me his plans. All that I know is that I'm to keep you alive for two days. And then..." He bent forward until they were face to face; the king did not recoil. "I'll kill you. Slowly. Like you deserve."
Albert ignored the shudder that ran down his spine at the gleeful anticipation in Fruegel's voice, instead returning his fierce gaze until the warden turned and marched down the stairs. The guard followed, taking the bucket with him, and the fallen king returned to the pillar, easing himself onto the ground.
Night was falling around him, and he turned his gaze west to see the final rays of sunlight fading behind the mountains. He knew that he would find little sleep tonight, if any, and steeled himself for what lay ahead. Surely, his uncle had not fallen so far. Surely, he would not kill him in cold blood.
But then again, he had been sure that Doel would never take him captive, either. He had been sure that he would never secede, that he would never revolt, that he would never attack Bale. It seemed that Doel was now capable of anything. Whatever good had been left inside him was now gone, replaced by a bloodthirsty, power-hungry warmonger.
The king struggled not to weep. He tried to force himself to believe that Lavitz was on his way, but hope seemed as distant as his city. Fervently, he prayed to all the gods that Lavitz would come before his two days were up. He could not bear the thought of his kingdom being ruled by a dictator like Emperor Doel.