From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [144]
Achan’s ear smarted like a dozen bees had stung it. He reached a hand up and found his head bandaged. Right. The green fire had struck him. Barely.
What, then, had it done to Prince Oren?
That evening, Achan sat at the head of the table in the meeting tent. Also present were Sir Gavin, Sir Caleb, Captain Demry, Toros, and Shung, who stood just inside the entrance.
Sir Caleb unwound the linen from Achan’s head, while Achan held his breath at the way the flesh burned. How had Shung ever survived the horrible burn to his hand and arm?
“This should not have been bandaged,” Sir Caleb said.
“Shung said it was bleeding,” Achan said. “And I had to go back to the Veil.”
“But it’s a burn,” Sir Caleb said. “I’m not as good a healer as Eagan, but I do know that burns should be left to air out.”
The last of the linen fell away. The cool air soothed Achan’s ear, but the men’s stares made him feel uncomfortable. “What? Is it that bad?”
Sir Caleb’s fingers brushed the hair above Achan’s ear. It sounded coarse, like a beard. “You’ll need a haircut.”
Achan tugged out the thong holding his hair in a tail. A handful of hair came with it. Long strands. A lot of them. He groaned and set his forehead against the table.
“Has Sir Eagan still not returned?” Captain Demry asked. “I can call one of the other healers.”
“Sir Shung can send Matthias,” Sir Caleb said.
Achan lifted his head to see Shung dart out the door.
“Sir Eagan has not returned,” Sir Gavin said. “Esek’s northern army blocks the King’s Road, so Sir Eagan is taking an alternate route. He has killed the Hadad, who was Macoun Hadar. When that happened, the keliy must have passed to Lord Nathak.”
This statement made Achan shiver as he recalled Lord Nathak’s transformation. He rubbed his arms. “We’ll have to face him at some point, right?”
“I fear that’s always been the case, Achan. Not that you face Lord Nathak, necessarily, or even Esek, but that you face the keliy.”
Achan winced at a throb in his head. “But how can I stand against such power? Such evil?”
“You can’t. But Arman can and will.”
Achan swallowed an angry retort. People threw that phase around as if it were nothing more than a greeting. Arman will do this. Arman will do that. Trust Arman. But Achan was the one prophesied to push back Darkness. He did not doubt Arman would help him, but he still felt overwhelmed, insignificant, and clueless as to what he would need to do.
Just don’t forget to let me in on the plan, Arman.
“What will you do with the black knights who survived the attack?” Captain Demry asked.
Sir Gavin tugged on his beard braid. “Keep them bound and full of âleh as long as we can. Then throw them in the dungeon at Armonguard. Maybe execute them. That will be your choice, Your Highness.”
His choice. A shudder coursed through him. Lord Nathak’s story… his whole life. What a waste. How could Queen Dara have been so cruel? And why had the king done such a thing in the first place? Sir Gavin had said King Axel loved his wife. What had gone wrong? The question brought his thoughts back to his own blunder with Challa.
“And what about Kurtz?” Toros Ianjo, the warrior-priest of Arman, directed his question to Sir Gavin. “Will you arrest him as well?”
Achan perked up. “Arrest Kurtz? For what? He saved my life and Shung’s. I should knight him.”
“I’m afraid there is more to it than that, Your Highness.” Sir Caleb swallowed, as if he’d rather not admit what he had to say. “When I went to claim a new wagon for you to travel in, I found them all at the back of the procession. The prostitutes Kurtz hired were living in them. Kurtz and his comrades had shifted the supplies to carts and such to make room.
“The women have been traveling at the back of the procession so that the officers would not notice them. But the wagons were designed specifically to hide you. That’s why they all looked alike. And they were to be spaced evenly throughout the procession. Kurtz’s decision made