The Rogue Knight Page 6

  The longer he sat, the more Cole felt his exhaustion. Should he get up and pace? It would be foolish to doze. How bad would it be to close his eyes for a minute? Nobody else had shown interest in his shady bench, so Cole curled up his legs and leaned against the armrest. The position was dangerously comfortable.

  Shaded from the high sun by a gnarled tree with sprawling branches, the temperature was nearly perfect. The fountain gurgled soothingly. As an experiment, Cole closed his eyes. He knew he should open them and take another peek. But it felt so nice to rest them, and he had just looked around a moment ago.

  “Get out of here, you vagrant,” a voice growled in Cole’s ear, jarring him awake.

  Cole leaped to his feet, blearily fumbling for an apology, until he recognized Jace grinning at him. Cole might have thrown a punch if he wasn’t so glad to see him. “You need a new joke.”

  “I’ll get one when this stops working,” Jace said. “You’re pretty casual for a wanted man. Pleasant dreams?”

  “Just trying to fit in,” Cole said. He looked around. “Where are the others?”

  “Not far,” Jace said. “I booked us a few rooms nearby. We can’t wander the town with people after you. We’ll stay near here until Joe shows up.”

  “Ansel saw me,” Cole reported. “The slaver—he came after me.”

  “I know,” Jace said. “Twitch kept an eye on you. He told us you escaped with the Jumping Sword.”

  “He knew that?” Cole asked.

  “Twitch is pretty sneaky,” Jace said. “After watching your getaway, he caught up to me and Mira like it wasn’t much trouble.”

  “Ansel promised to hunt me down,” Cole said.

  “Sounds like a great reason for a public nap,” Jace said. “Come on.”

  CHAPTER

  6

  KASORI

  Halfway down a quiet side street, a few blocks from Lorona Fountain, the modest inn stood three stories tall. Light blue shutters covered the windows. Not flashy, not dumpy, it looked like dozens of other buildings Cole had passed throughout the day.

  “No common room,” Jace muttered as they approached the front door. “That means no crowds.”

  The main door from the street led to a smallish foyer where an inattentive woman sat behind a counter to receive guests. Jace waved at her as they walked by. She acknowledged him with a vague smile. Even in a strange and deadly world full of magical illusions, Cole supposed a boring job was still a boring job.

  On their way up to the second floor, Jace produced a key. “I rented three rooms—the nicest one they had available, and two of their cheaper ones, including one that sleeps four. I wanted the workers to think we were servants getting rooms for our master. The lady up front didn’t press me for specifics. The best room is up on the third floor. We gave it to Mira.”

  “Is it safe to leave her alone up there?” Cole asked.

  “Our smallest room is just down from her,” Jace said. “I’ll stay there. You can go bunk with Twitch for now, finish up the nap you started by the fountain. If you want, you can bathe in the room at the end of the hall.”

  Cole didn’t fail to notice that Jace kept trying to create situations where he might have Mira to himself. Jace still had it bad for her. He had probably booked rooms on different floors deliberately. Cole knew he shouldn’t say anything, but some opportunities were too easy to resist. “Hoping for some more alone time with the princess?”

  “Huh?” Jace asked guiltily.

  “Like how you worked it to come into the city with her,” Cole said.

  Jace gave an embarrassed smile and shook his head. “You really don’t know when to shut up.”

  “You didn’t think it was obvious?”

  Jaw clenched, Jace paused, air whistling through his nostrils. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. She was out of my league even before I learned she was a princess.”

  Cole shook his head. “You’re probably the cockiest guy I’ve met. Why does it disappear when it comes to her?”

  Jace shrugged. “Have you ever liked somebody you couldn’t have?”

  Cole could feel the blood rushing to his face. “Maybe.”

  “How much did you like her?”

  Cole shrugged, suddenly wishing the conversation was over. How had this become about Jenna? “A lot, I guess.”

  “Did you ever let her know how you felt?”

  “No way!” Cole exclaimed.

  “Why not?”

  Cole swallowed. “I didn’t think it could work out.”

  “You were scared,” Jace said.

  “Mostly, I guess,” Cole said. “We became friends. That was good enough.”

  “Was it really?” Jace pressed.

  “No,” Cole admitted. “But I had time. I thought I would tell her someday.”

  Jace chuckled. “Good luck with that now.”

  Cole stared at him soberly.

  “Is she back home?”

  Cole kept staring.

  “Oh,” Jace said, understanding dawning. “It’s that Jenna girl you talk about. Your friend.”

  “Yeah,” Cole said, trying not to turn any redder.

  “And now she’s lost,” Jace said with no trace of mockery. “She’s a slave.”

  The last thing Cole wanted to do was cry in front of Jace, but his uncharacteristic kindness wasn’t making it easy. “Until I find her.”

  “You will,” Jace said seriously. “Listen, you didn’t tell Jenna how you felt because you were nervous. But with Mira, there are real reasons I can’t say anything. She’s a shaper. I’m not. She’s way older than she looks. And she’s the High King’s daughter. Even in exile, that means she doesn’t slum with kids like me.”

  “You’re scared too,” Cole said.

  Jace huffed. “Maybe. And ashamed for wanting something so far out of reach. I’m a former slave with no family. And I’m far from grown up. But that doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t real. What I can do is watch out for her. And be her friend. Spend a little time with her. Is that too much to ask?”

  “I get it,” Cole said. “I won’t tease you. I used to be terrified of people teasing me about Jenna.”

  “Think about everything we need to do,” Jace said. “If Mira catches on to how much I like her, it could really mess things up.”

  “I’m pretty sure she suspects,” Cole said.

  “Suspecting is okay,” Jace said. “I just can’t make it clear. Do you think about Jenna a lot?”

  “All the time,” Cole said. “Not in romantic ways,” he rushed to clarify. “I worry about her. I think about my friend Dalton, too. And the other kids.”

  “I’ll help you find them,” Jace said.

  “Thanks.”

  Jace handed Cole a key and indicated a door. “I left some food in there that I brought from the autocoach. I’ll go out and buy more later. You shouldn’t go outside more than necessary.”

  “Got it,” Cole said, wondering if he would have to spend the rest of his time in Elloweer indoors. “Thanks for finding us a place to crash.”

  Jace nodded and took off down the hall. Cole watched him go, suspecting he may have spoken to the real Jace for the first time. Cole sometimes doubted whether Jace even had feelings. They were usually hidden behind serious defenses.

  Cole used the key to enter his room. Four narrow beds took up much of the space. At least everything was tidy. Twitch sat on the edge of one of the beds, antennae and wings visible. Gazing at his friend, something occurred to Cole. “You’ll be like that all the time now.”

  Twitch gave a nervous smile. “Yeah, outside the borders of Elloweer I looked like a regular human unless I used my ring. I’ve been gone long enough that it’s weird to think I can no longer camouflage myself that way. It sometimes made life easier. Outside of our few village
s, the grinaldi aren’t commonly seen. When I went abroad in Elloweer, I always stood out.”

  Cole crossed the room and sat on a bed. “Jace said you followed me after I ran into Ansel.”

  Twitch stared at the floor. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “Thanks for having my back,” Cole said. “Watch out, though. You don’t want to get mixed up with those slavers.”

  “I believe you,” Twitch said. “What did he say to you? I couldn’t get close enough to hear.”

  “He promised to hunt me down and chop off my hand with the freemark,” Cole said.

  Twitch winced. “He didn’t seem like the sort of guy you’d want as an enemy.”

  “No,” Cole agreed.

  “I bet you’re tired,” Twitch said.

  “Kind of,” Cole said. “I dozed off a little, and it helped. How about you?”

  “I’m exhausted,” Twitch said. “But being back in Elloweer is strange. I feel extra alert.”

  “Nice to be home?” Cole asked.

  “This isn’t home,” Twitch said, blinking rapidly. “Kasori is home. My village. The rest of Elloweer is mostly foreign to me. But being back here reminds me what I left behind.”

  “You left to help your village,” Cole recalled.

  Twitch bowed his head, antennae quivering. “And I failed miserably.”

  “What were you trying to do?” Cole asked.

  Twitch gave a heavy sigh and shook his head. “It’s my burden, not yours.”

  “I’ll help if I can,” Cole said. “We all will.”

  Twitch looked up at him, tears shimmering in his eyes, his expression miserable. “You know how you wouldn’t want me getting mixed up with those slavers?”

  Cole nodded.

  “I wouldn’t want you guys to get tangled up in my trouble. It would be unfair. It’s better to keep it to myself.”

  “Come on,” Cole urged. “We’re friends now. You saved my life.”

  Lowering his head, Twitch vigorously rubbed the back of one wrist. After a long pause, he gave a shuddering sigh. “Do you know about the champions of Elloweer?”

  “Is that a sports team?”

  Twitch attempted a smile. “Every town in Elloweer has a champion. In the big cities, the champion has twelve knights. The champion rules the town, defends the town, and decides how the taxes are spent. In the larger towns, an alderman usually manages the practical stuff, while the champion lives in comfort unless fighting a duel.”

  “The champion is like a general?” Cole asked.

  “A general has an army. The champion just has his knights. They serve as bodyguards and assistants. The cities of Elloweer have guardsmen to police the public, but they don’t fight wars with armies. By tradition, wars are decided by duels between champions.”

  “Seriously? If somebody kills the champion, they take over the town?”

  “Basically,” Twitch said. “It has to be a fair fight and follow the rules.”

  “That’s crazy!” Cole exclaimed. “The leaders would just end up being the toughest fighters.” He pictured elections back home being resolved by mortal combat. How bizarre would that be? Candidates would probably be much younger and skip the fancy suits. “How often does the best fighter also make the best leader?”

  “That’s why most of them use aldermen to run things,” Twitch said.

  “Who makes sure the fights follow the rules?”

  “The knights,” Twitch replied. “If somebody killed the champion unfairly, like by poisoning him or stabbing him in the back, the champion’s successor would become the new champion instead of the killer.”

  “The champion has a person ready to take his place?” Cole asked.

  “Usually several people. Normally, the successors are among his knights.”

  “That means one of his knights could murder the champion and replace him.”

  “Which is why the champion tries to make sure his knights are honorable warriors who he can trust.”

  “Why would anybody want to be a champion?” Cole asked. “Sounds dangerous.”

  “It is dangerous,” Twitch agreed. “But you rule the town. If you want, you can keep most of the taxes for yourself and your friends. Some great champions have claimed multiple cities, ruling through aldermen, and they live like kings.”

  “If somebody kills one of the top champions, do they get all of their towns?” Cole asked.

  “Only a champion can challenge a champion,” Twitch said. “And you can only challenge for one town at a time. If the defending champion falls, the new champion brings the disputed town under his protection, and the champion’s successor inherits the other towns.”

  “They always fight to the death?” Cole said.

  “Yeah,” Twitch replied. “Technically, the champion can yield instead of die, but it never happens. If a champion yields, the opponent doesn’t have to show mercy.”

  “Do these fights happen a lot?” Cole wondered.

  “Not often,” Twitch said. “Every champion risks his life and his town when he challenges another. Most are happy to rule their current domains. But some champions are greedy. Or ambitious. And sometimes disputes arise between cities that must be settled by the champions.”

  “Instead of war,” Cole said.

  “The duel is the war,” Twitch replied.

  Cole considered the implications. “That seems less wasteful than a huge battle between two cities.”

  “The losing city always suffers.” Twitch lowered his gaze. “Something I know a lot about.”

  “Is that what happened to your village?” Cole asked.

  Twitch scratched his cheek and rubbed his nose. “Kasori isn’t large. It isn’t rich. For generations, our champion never fought. He was more alderman than warrior. We’re simple people. There were hardly any taxes. Nobody got rich from them. We didn’t fight with our neighboring grinaldi villages, and who besides those villages would take the trouble to bother us? Then Renford came.”

  “Who is that?”

  “There’s a swamp not far from our village.” Twitch scrunched his nose. “A stagnant place full of reptiles and slime. Some ragged people live there, a few big families. The grinaldi plant, reap, and store. We work the land. The swamp folk are trappers and scavengers. They live like rats. After years without much contact between us, some of the swamp folk began to notice what we had, even though it wasn’t much. They sent their sons to train as soldiers, declared themselves a community, and named Renford Poleman their champion.”

  “Oh, no,” Cole said.

  “Renford showed up one day with five knights, all dressed in mismatched, secondhand armor. He challenged Brinkus, our alderman, to single combat. None of us really thought of Brinkus as a champion, though technically that was his job. He was an older man with a bad wing, forgetful and funny. His son asked him to step down and let him fight in his behalf, but Brinkus faced the challenge himself. And he died.”

  “Making Renford your champion,” Cole said.

  Twitch nodded. “Borus, the son of Brinkus, went to a neighboring village and asked to replace their champion. Their champion was no warrior, so he agreed to step down. You’re not supposed to challenge a new champion for six months, so Borus waited the correct amount of time, issued his challenge, and died as well. Renford went on to challenge and defeat the champions of the other two grinaldi villages in the area. He really is a skilled fighter. His knights, mostly brothers and cousins, are capable as well.”

  “So an outsider took control of your villages,” Cole summarized.

  “Not just any outsider,” Twitch said. “A lazy bully. Many of the swamp folk came to live on our land. My family was thrown out of our home. Soon his knights exceeded the limit of twelve. They didn’t take care of the land and property they confiscated. Tame fields grew wild. Livestock was
wasted. Renford not only raised the taxes, but he increased them beyond what anyone could pay. No Ellowine champion is permitted to tax above fifty percent, but his fees came closer to eighty. The best of our workers could barely scrape by. When a group of our people protested, they were slaughtered.”

  “What a mess,” Cole said, horrified.

  “My people gave up,” Twitch said. “There weren’t a lot of us. Many of our bravest were killed. I had to do something, but attacking the swamp folk myself would have been pointless. I was a kid, and not much of a fighter. I snuck out of Kasori and traveled to Wenachi, the last of the grinaldi villages, too small and too far away to interest Renford. I told them our problem, and they agreed that if I could find a champion, he could represent their village. So I left in search of a hero.”

  “And then you got captured as a slave,” Cole said.

  Wings trembling, Twitch bowed his head. “The grinaldi live in isolation. We never bothered with freemarks or bondmarks. We had no needle masters. In my desperation to find a hero, I forgot how dangerous the rest of the world could be. I was caught, marked, and enslaved.”

  “You still need a hero,” Cole said.

  “Finding one won’t be easy,” Twitch replied. “I’ve tried. The few outsiders who even know about the grinaldi don’t care about us. Our villages seem rich to the swamp people, but not to the champions of prosperous towns. I wasn’t having much luck, so I went beyond Elloweer, hoping to bring back a great warrior from abroad.”

  “What about Joe?” Cole asked.

  Twitch shook his head. “Mira needs Joe. Besides, he doesn’t strike me as a professional swordsman. The duels are structured to allow no enchanting. Only traditional weapons and armor can be used. Renford may not be good for much, but the guy can fight.”

  “Then what’s your plan?”

  Twitch shifted uncomfortably. “I’m hoping Mira will let me have a share of the money Declan gave us. It might be enough to bribe a professional mercenary to serve as our champion. I need somebody with the skill to win, who also has enough of a life elsewhere that he won’t want to stay on and replace Renford. A person could live well enough off the spoils of the grinaldi that it would be tempting to some.”