Read Online The Forever Knight: A Novel of the Bronze Knight (Books of the Bronze Knight) by John Marco - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Marco
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open.
I was alive again.
Above me twinkled the night sky, fretted by tree branches. I could
feel
the air in my lungs. I was afraid but not panicked, and knew I was in a forest somewhere. Somehow. My ears perked awake at the sound of insects chirping. Weight pressed upon my chest. I glanced down and saw it was Cricket. She lay over me, slumped with sleep, my chest her pillow.
“Malator,” I whispered. “Thank you . . .”
Cricket heard me and stirred. She sat up groggily, her eyes struggling with the darkness.
“Hello,” I rasped.
“Lukien?” She leaned closer. “Lukien!” She flung herself at me then stopped in horror. “Oh, I’m sorry! You—are you all right? Can you move? I thought you were dead!”
My mind was so cloudy I could hardly grasp her questions. “I’m alive. Malator . . .”
That’s when I noticed the sword in my hand. It had been placed there, tied into my palms with rags so I couldn’t let go. I flexed my fingers around the hilt. Inside the sword stirred Malator, unmistakable but slighter than I’d ever felt him before. Barely there. Whatever he’d done to save me had exhausted him.
“I can move a little,” I told Cricket, but couldn’t raise the sword or do more than flex my arm. I remembered the horror of my neck breaking. To my amazement, I could turn my head. “But I’m all right. I
am
.”
Cricket’s expression melted. I had never seen her cry before, but now tears dampened her cheeks. “God damn it, you scared me, Lukien! That man killed you!”
“He didn’t, Cricket.” I wanted to sit up. “I told you,” I joked, “nothing can kill me. Look!”
Cricket swallowed and smeared the tears with her sleeve. She touched my face. “Yeah,” she nodded. “Okay.”
“What about you? You weren’t hurt?”
She shook her head. “No. He didn’t touch me after . . . what happened.”
I hoped she wasn’t lying. “Where are we? Arad?”
“We left Arad, Lukien. Three days ago.” Cricket shrugged. “I don’t really know where this is.”
“How?”
Cricket’s voice dropped low. “Marilius.”
“Who?”
She cocked her chin toward the trees at my left. “Over there.”
Surprised, I turned my head, struggling to see over my nose with my one eye. A man was huddled among the leaves, slumbering in the darkness.
“Who’s that?”
Cricket put a finger to her lips. “Easy. He helped us, Lukien. He saved us. His name’s Marilius. He’s a captain.”
“Of a ship?”
“He’s a soldier.” Cricket looked over to make sure the man was still asleep. “I couldn’t get you out of there alone, Lukien. After what happened to you I . . .” Her eyes pleaded with me. “I started screaming. The wrestler left me there, left us both there, right in the street. No one came to help. Just Marilius. He put you over your horse and got us out of there. We rode for a day, then we came here. You can be mad if you want, but I did my best.”
“You did good,” I told her. “You were brave. I’m proud of you.” I looked over at the stranger again. “I want to talk to him.”
“What, now?”
“Yes,” I said, trying not to sound angry. I thought again and sighed. “No. I’ll be stronger in the morning. I’ll talk to him then.”
“Why are you mad, Lukien? I told you—he saved us.”
“I know.” I smiled at her. “I do, Cricket. I’m obliged to him. And that’s what I’m going to tell him when he wakes up.”
Cricket looked relieved. She beamed suddenly, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “I swear I thought you were dead.”
“Me, too,” I admitted. “I guess it’ll take more than a broken neck to kill me.”
* * *
When I woke the next morning it was the stranger, not Cricket, sitting next to me. Cross-legged, disinterested, he whittled aimlessly with a dagger, and when I grunted awake he glanced my way.
“Cricket told me you wanted to speak to me,” he said.
I looked around but couldn’t find her. “Where is
I was alive again.
Above me twinkled the night sky, fretted by tree branches. I could
feel
the air in my lungs. I was afraid but not panicked, and knew I was in a forest somewhere. Somehow. My ears perked awake at the sound of insects chirping. Weight pressed upon my chest. I glanced down and saw it was Cricket. She lay over me, slumped with sleep, my chest her pillow.
“Malator,” I whispered. “Thank you . . .”
Cricket heard me and stirred. She sat up groggily, her eyes struggling with the darkness.
“Hello,” I rasped.
“Lukien?” She leaned closer. “Lukien!” She flung herself at me then stopped in horror. “Oh, I’m sorry! You—are you all right? Can you move? I thought you were dead!”
My mind was so cloudy I could hardly grasp her questions. “I’m alive. Malator . . .”
That’s when I noticed the sword in my hand. It had been placed there, tied into my palms with rags so I couldn’t let go. I flexed my fingers around the hilt. Inside the sword stirred Malator, unmistakable but slighter than I’d ever felt him before. Barely there. Whatever he’d done to save me had exhausted him.
“I can move a little,” I told Cricket, but couldn’t raise the sword or do more than flex my arm. I remembered the horror of my neck breaking. To my amazement, I could turn my head. “But I’m all right. I
am
.”
Cricket’s expression melted. I had never seen her cry before, but now tears dampened her cheeks. “God damn it, you scared me, Lukien! That man killed you!”
“He didn’t, Cricket.” I wanted to sit up. “I told you,” I joked, “nothing can kill me. Look!”
Cricket swallowed and smeared the tears with her sleeve. She touched my face. “Yeah,” she nodded. “Okay.”
“What about you? You weren’t hurt?”
She shook her head. “No. He didn’t touch me after . . . what happened.”
I hoped she wasn’t lying. “Where are we? Arad?”
“We left Arad, Lukien. Three days ago.” Cricket shrugged. “I don’t really know where this is.”
“How?”
Cricket’s voice dropped low. “Marilius.”
“Who?”
She cocked her chin toward the trees at my left. “Over there.”
Surprised, I turned my head, struggling to see over my nose with my one eye. A man was huddled among the leaves, slumbering in the darkness.
“Who’s that?”
Cricket put a finger to her lips. “Easy. He helped us, Lukien. He saved us. His name’s Marilius. He’s a captain.”
“Of a ship?”
“He’s a soldier.” Cricket looked over to make sure the man was still asleep. “I couldn’t get you out of there alone, Lukien. After what happened to you I . . .” Her eyes pleaded with me. “I started screaming. The wrestler left me there, left us both there, right in the street. No one came to help. Just Marilius. He put you over your horse and got us out of there. We rode for a day, then we came here. You can be mad if you want, but I did my best.”
“You did good,” I told her. “You were brave. I’m proud of you.” I looked over at the stranger again. “I want to talk to him.”
“What, now?”
“Yes,” I said, trying not to sound angry. I thought again and sighed. “No. I’ll be stronger in the morning. I’ll talk to him then.”
“Why are you mad, Lukien? I told you—he saved us.”
“I know.” I smiled at her. “I do, Cricket. I’m obliged to him. And that’s what I’m going to tell him when he wakes up.”
Cricket looked relieved. She beamed suddenly, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “I swear I thought you were dead.”
“Me, too,” I admitted. “I guess it’ll take more than a broken neck to kill me.”
* * *
When I woke the next morning it was the stranger, not Cricket, sitting next to me. Cross-legged, disinterested, he whittled aimlessly with a dagger, and when I grunted awake he glanced my way.
“Cricket told me you wanted to speak to me,” he said.
I looked around but couldn’t find her. “Where is
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