Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [93]
For a long time, Artek could say nothing. All this time he had thought of Corin as a mere nuisance, as an object to be rescued and nothing more. In that, he had been no better than the young lord's father. Perhaps worse. He of all people should have known better. He knew what it was like to be scorned by one whose love he craved; he knew what it was like to learn to loathe himself. If Corin's father were still alive, Artek would have vowed to kill him. But vengeance cannot be gained from the dead, and the living are left to bear the scars inflicted.
At last Artek drew in a deep breath. Maybe it was too late for him, but Corin was young. Maybe there was still time for the young man to find a sort of healing, to be whole. Artek reached out and gripped Corin's shoulders. He gazed into the young man's eyes and would not let him look away.
"Listen to me, Corin," he said solemnly. "Listen to me, because I speak the truth. I was wrong. Your father was wrong. You aren't worthless. You have to believe that. I know that there are voices inside you, voices that tell you otherwise, but you have to stop listening to them because they, too, are wrong. No one deserves what happened to you, Corin. Do you hear me? No one."
At last Corin stopped struggling and held still within Artek's grasp. Artek kept talking.
"Don't you see, Corin? We need you. All of us. You're the only one who can get us across that lanceboard. You're the only one who can help us." Black eyes bore into clear blue ones. "Please," he whispered. "Won't you try?"
For a long moment, Corin sat as if frozen, staring with unseeing eyes. Artek despaired, fearing his words had fallen upon deaf ears. Then Corin's pale visage seemed to melt, and he blinked, drawing in a shuddering breath. At last he nodded. "I can't promise anything," he said in a hoarse voice. "But I will try."
Artek could not suppress a toothy grin. He encircled Corin in his strong arms, embracing him tightly. The young man stiffened. Then, tentatively, he lifted his arms to return the embrace.
"Excuse me, Artek," Corin gasped after a time, "but I'd like to breathe now."
"Oh, sorry!" Artek exclaimed, releasing the young man from his grip.
Corin stood, smiling shyly. "Actually, you're all rather in luck, you know. Though my father never placed much stock in it-it wasn't a blood sport, you see-I was something of a champion at lanceboard among my peers." He clapped his hands together. "Now, let's get started. We have a game to play."
A new air of confidence and authority gradually crept into Corin's words and actions. For the first time since Artek had met him, the young man truly seemed like a lord. He surveyed the gameboard critically, forming a strategy.
"This isn't going to be simple," Corin murmured, his expression one of intent concentration. "Our opponent has a full complement of playing pieces, and we are only four."
"Make that five!" Muragh piped up, rolling toward the nobleman's feet.
Corin actually laughed as he picked up the skull. "Ah, then there is some hope after all," he said.
With crisp commands, he directed the others to their starting locations on the first row of the game-board. Artek took the King's position, and Beckla the Queen's, next to him. Corin placed Guss on the end, in the role of an Ogre, and took a Knight position for himself. Muragh, to his delight, was a Sorcerer.
After this, Corin instructed each of them on the manner of their movement.
"Artek, when you first stepped onto the board, it was where Muragh is now, on the starting square of a Sorcerer," Corin explained. "Sorcerers can only move along a diagonal. That's why you encountered the magical barrier when you tried to move forward and side-to-side."
Artek nodded at the nobleman's words. As long as they moved according to the rules of the pieces they were playing, they should be able to walk across the board without encountering the glowing barriers.
Corin continued to instruct them in the rules of