Reign of Madness (King's Dark Tidings, #2)

by Kel Kade

Rezkin’s comportment as a nobleman of the highest standard encouraged Malcius to uphold the standard, as well. Malcius cleared his throat as he gave his sister a penetrating look. “Sister, I am sure you misspoke.” Shiela, startled by the reprimand, glanced over to see Rezkin’s disapproving stare. She blushed slightly and replied, “Oh, yes. I meant a couple of commoners and our dear cousin. Forgive me, Frisha, I meant no offense,” she said with feigned regret. Frisha rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I’m sure you didn’t,” she remarked. “I must say, Shiela, I find myself greatly concerned for your well-being,” she said, her brow furrowed with worry. Shiela’s eyes widened in trepidation of some unidentified threat, “Oh, why is that?” “I had not realized your constitution was so delicate that the mere presence of other human beings could render you so senseless,” Frisha remarked fretfully. “I worry that this journey could cause you an inordinate amount of stress. Perhaps you should reconsider attending.”

In the short time Rezkin had been in the presence of the nobles, he had effectively manipulated them into viewing him as the leader. He left open the implication that he was of very high standing without ever divulging his house affiliation, not a small feat among nobles. General Marcum’s assurances had gone a long way in generating that trust with the Jebais. Rezkin wondered just how hard the general choked on his words when he issued such praise. Rezkin had successfully cowed the duke’s son through fear during their previous encounter, and it appeared that Tieran simply assumed the Jebais knew with whom they were traveling.

“Lady Shiela, I take offense to your accusations and slander against my lady’s character. Lady Frisha is and has always been a respectable woman, and she should be commended for her bravery and dignity during such trying times. You have made a number of unfounded assumptions. I also take offense in your comments against Master Tamarin, who I have the honor of calling friend. It matters not that you would question his honor since, from what I have seen, you seem to have very little. Unlike you, I actually know Master Tamarin, and I hold his oath in high regard. If you must belittle others to make yourself feel better, then you should do so silently, in your own mind, where only you will suffer from your poison. You will certainly abstain from speaking such vileness in my presence.”

Malcius laughed. “Are you saying that you, of all people, have problems with following the rules?” Rezkin smirked, an expression that looked odd on the warrior’s face, as far as Jimson was concerned. “I am just saying that there are many other Skills and techniques and hobbies that are worthy of my attention. I cannot seem to pursue just one.” Now that Jimson was looking for it, he noticed that Rezkin’s answer had nothing to do with the question, but Malcius took his response as confirmation of his assumptions, regardless.

Shiela huffed. “You would not know seduction if it slapped you in the face,” she grumbled under her breath, but Rezkin heard. Everyone had heard. A sly grin slipped over Rezkin’s lips as he replied, “I know it well enough to know you are not very good at it.”

Rezkin shook his head and said, “You need to be focused, Reaylin. You must determine your objective. Know your purpose. Recognize your talents and capitalize on them. If you live your life for the sole purpose of seeking the approval of others, you will live no life at all. You will indubitably fail for if that person cannot appreciate you for who you are, then he or she will never truly appreciate you at all. You will always be trying to prove yourself, and it will never be enough. Do not dismiss your healing abilities so quickly, Reaylin,” Rezkin continued. “It is a talent many of us could only wish to have.”

Tieran turned his attention momentarily to Rezkin and grinned as he said, “Rez, when first I saw the angry mob, I should have known you would be involved.” Rezkin shrugged and replied, “Someone had to.

The men exchanged worried glances. Mayor Quey’s face turned pallid and broke into a cold sweat. Jiruthis licked his lips as he eyed the sword and said, “So, what will you do to us?” Rezkin looked down at the sword in his hand as though just realizing he held it and shook his head. “Oh, no, this will not do,” he remarked as he slid the blade back into the scabbard on his back. “You see, the guards are going to find the two of you in a few hours, and they are going to believe that you managed to kill each other. People will assume that Mayor Quey was angry with you for not hanging his son’s killer, and you defended yourself. Some might argue that you were angry with Quey for pressuring you into that farce of a trial that lost you your position. I can assure you, though, that no one will ever consider that I was somehow involved.” “Y-You expect us to kill each other?” Quey stammered. Rezkin raised a brow. “Well, that would make my job much easier, but I doubt you will be so accommodating. Or am I wrong?” Rezkin queried, looking to both men as if genuinely in need of clarification. He received two scowls in return. “No, I thought not. I will make it look like the two of you killed each other. Unfortunately, neither of you look to have the Skills to kill efficiently, so I will have to rough you up a bit, and the killing blows might get a bit messy,” he stated as if in afterthought. Mayor Quey scoffed, “You think we are going to stand here while you beat us to death?” “Actually,...

Rezkin felt the familiar tightening of his chest. He was coming to realize that the manifestation of pain was a physical response to negative emotions.

Kai suddenly turned and slammed Tam against the wall of the passage. He held the smaller man by the throat as he gritted between his teeth, “What, by the Maker and the Hells, is wrong with you?” “What … are you … talking about?” Tam choked out the words through a constricted airway. “That is the deadliest man in Ashai, perhaps even the world,” Kai hissed. “He is a sword bearer, entrusted with the authority and responsibility of the entire kingdom. He seeks answers so that he can fight against the wrongs that have been committed both against him and by him on someone else’s command. From what I have seen and heard of him, he fights for those who cannot fight for themselves, he speaks in elegant prose of the obligations of nobles toward the commoners they govern, and insists on the accountability of all men of power, including the king. “I have seen no evidence that he is deserving of your foul treatment and inglorious accusations. Do you think a man such as he trusts easily? I doubt he has ever revealed so much to anyone. He included me for the sake of the information and assistance I can provide, but as you so rightly pointed out, you are nothing special. What does he gain from trusting you with such information? I will tell you. He thought only to keep his friend in confidence, and you scorned him. Had any friend of mine been so hateful, he would never have walked away of his own volition.”

Kai glared at Tam every time the young man looked up from his plate, so Tam found his food to be extremely interesting this evening. Frisha noted Tam’s odd behavior and stared at her friend questioningly. It was just one more reason he considered his potatoes to be particularly glorious.

When Palis suggested the journey, Malcius had thought it a great opportunity to get away from the monotony that was his life. The tournament would give him the chance to prove himself against other comparable fighters and possibly even impress his father. Aside from that, he had expected the voyage to be average and boring. He would sit on a ship for a few weeks with his sister and brother, along with a few other normal passengers and crewmen. So far, the journey had been anything but average. He was stuck on a ship with none other than the future Duke of Wellinven, his commoner cousin turned noble lady, a tiny female warrior-healer in denial, a journeyman battle mage who wanted to be anything but a battle mage, a disgruntled striker with mixed up loyalties, and a dual-blade swordmaster with a mysterious past and relationship issues.

“Believe me, Rezkin, I love my Cousin Thresson,” Tieran said. “He is a good man with a big heart. He is even a highly talented duelist, but I doubt he could kill a chicken to save himself from starving, and he is certainly no king. Thresson would be the first to say as much were he here. We have spoken of it on more than one occasion. He wants nothing to do with the throne. He is ill suited to high-stress activities and finds it difficult to interact with people. Thresson is no leader. He even informed me once that if the crown ever fell on his head, he would immediately hand it to me.” “What did you say to that?” Malcius asked curiously. “I told him not to be so cruel and to keep his undesirables to himself.”

Frisha huffed. “If you keep buying me sweet rolls, I won’t fit into any of the dresses,” she said sternly and then broke into a teasing smile. “I do not see why you need a dress, anyway. What you are wearing now is more practical,” Rezkin remarked, eying her tunic and pants. “These are traveling clothes, Rezkin. I cannot go about the city dressed in such a way with all these nobles looking at me. You know I am supposed to be fostering their acceptance. If they see me like this, they will only ever see as an uncouth commoner,” Frisha argued. “You wear those ridiculous doublets in the heat of summer when you are trying to impress.” “I recognize and accept your reasoning, but I still think it is an absurd practice,” Rezkin remarked as they left the inn and strolled up the street to the market.

Rezkin nodded and said, “Perhaps that is why women insist on covering themselves, then? They are not accentuating their attributes. They are hiding them.” He cocked his head curiously and said, “But, then why do they accentuate their breasts so obviously when it would be equally inappropriate to comment on them?” Frisha’s gaze darted to the man beside her. She had not thought to hear Rezkin speaking of women’s breasts. “I suppose some things are supposed to be observed and appreciated silently.”

Rezkin thought quickly. He had no desire to offend Malcius by rejecting him solely because he did not know the proper procedure for such things. The young Jebai seemed to imply that it had been Malcius’s own decision to call Rezkin friend. Was it so simple as that? Was he permitted to choose those he called friend?

Tieran stared at the strange man beside him in silence. Finally, he said, “You would manipulate my travel arrangements and accept the responsibility of my protection just so that I will put in a good word for Frisha in case she marries someone else?” Rezkin spied the man out of the corner of his eye and then lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “It is not just that, is it? You manipulated the whole trip! That is why Captain Jimson said you were in charge. You arranged for the Jebais and Brandt … and what of Baron Fendendril? Did you arrange his travel as well?” Tieran asked in amazement. Rezkin continued scanning their surroundings but silently nodded once. “And, you did not even intend to compete in the tournament, did you? This entire trip was all about Frisha?” Tieran scoffed. Rezkin winced at the man’s tone. “Well, not completely. I do have other business here, but I could have more easily come alone. I admit that I gathered Frisha and the rest of you for that purpose.” The duke’s son simply stared. And, then he started to laugh. He laughed so hard he had tears coming from his eyes. “By the Maker, Rezkin, I have never heard of anything so absurdly romantic. You commandeered military personnel, a ship, and crew, and manipulated the lives of a baron and the heirs of four high noble houses for months during the King’s Tournament just to ensure the happiness of a woman in the event you do not get to marry her.” Rezkin shrugged. “Whether I marry her or not, Frisha will always...

Rezkin peered through the glass and spied his companions asleep in their beds. With a frown, he noted the knife tucked under the window in the manner he had shown Tam. Tam was not supposed to be in the room, though. Perhaps Wesson picked up the habit, Rezkin thought. It was unlikely since Wesson would probably depend on his wards just as much as the duke. Rezkin disengaged the trap easily and pressed through Wesson’s ward with barely a thought. After closing the window and reapplying the knife trap, Rezkin turned and removed the tattered cloak. A small motion in the darkness caught his attention, and a mage flame appeared over Wesson’s outstretched hand. The mage and Tieran were lounging in their beds, Malcius was pulling himself up from Rezkin’s bed, and Tam stood from where he had been lying on the floor. Rezkin simply looked at the traitorous cohorts and said, “What?”

The young noble narrowed his eyes at his friend, but before he could speak, Rezkin said, “It is late, Malcius. The sun will rise in a couple of hours, and it would be best if we get some rest.” Malcius glanced at the window and then nodded. His own inn would be locked up tight at this hour. Rezkin tossed him a blanket and said, “I am taking back my bed.” The young lord groaned and whined, “But I have to compete this afternoon.” “You should have thought of that before you ambushed me from my own bed,” Rezkin retorted.

Rezkin noticed that his friends had not abided his wishes and gone to the ship. The fact that they had come back to fight for him made him feel something, but he could not quite understand the sensation. It was unlike any of the feelings he had experienced when he was younger, before he learned to distance himself from such things. It was almost similar to the feeling he got when Frisha stood against her uncle on his behalf. Still, he needed his companions to get to the ship and to safety.

“We cannot leave him here,” the young woman protested. Dark Tidings cleaned the blood from Palis’s sword and slipped it back into its scabbard. He grunted as he hefted Palis’s body onto his back and across his shoulders. It was then that Yserria noticed her liege was injured. “You are hurt!” she exclaimed. “I was distracted and failed to avoid a crossbow bolt. I took one to the shoulder. I will live,” the wraith said quietly. When Rezkin had glanced back and saw Palis go down, he had been suddenly overcome with feelings he could not comprehend. Even now they were threatening to strangle him. The tightness in his chest simply would not dissipate, and it felt as though he was struggling to breathe. As he carried Palis to the water, he gripped the young man’s arm and leg more tightly, as if the action alone might make him breathe again. Of course, he knew it would not, but this death seemed somehow so much more final than all the others.