Lorik The Defender (The Lorik Trilogy) Read online

  Vera giggled.

  “It’s not funny,” Stone complained. “It stinks.”

  “Well,” Vera said, “you better find a place to wash up. You aren’t coming anywhere near me until you do.”

  Lorik and Stone untied their horses from the back of the wagon. Stone rode a dappled mare that looked almost like a pony next to Lorik’s Shire horse. The black Shire horse stood 17 hands high, with thick shoulders and legs. The hooves were wide too, and although the horse was black everywhere else, the hooves were covered with long, white hair.

  Lorik climbed up into the saddle. He had not wanted to ride at first. He was tireless since the Drery Dru had changed him. He could run all day without getting tired and actually travel farther than he could riding a horse. The big Shire horse had been recruited to pull the wagon, but they couldn’t find a horse big enough to match to the huge animal, so Lorik had accepted the mount, since his huge frame packed with bulging muscle would be a burden to any of the other horses.

  “I want to keep moving south,” he said.

  “How far are we going to go?” Vera asked.

  “At least as far as Ort City,” Lorik said. “Surely there’s some sort of ruler overseeing things there. We need to bring them on board with our plan to take a stand in the north.”

  “What about the people farther south?” Stone asked.

  “I have a feeling there aren’t many of them left,” Lorik said. “Without protection, they would make easy targets for those flying horse creatures.”

  They made their way through the now abandoned village that had been attacked by the Leffers they had just fought. Many of the structures were ruined.

  “They don’t leave much behind, do they?” Stone observed.

  “It looks like the roofs are caved in on just about every building,” Vera added.

  Lorik expected to see the bodies of people who had tried to protect their loved ones. It seemed unnatural to look around the village and see so much destruction, but no sign of the dead. It made the village seem almost haunted. Some of the stone chimneys still had wisps of smoke rising out of them, the smell of food being cooked was discernible even amid the odor of animal droppings and garbage that had been left in the narrow, mud-lined alleys between the buildings.

  “What if Ort City is just an abandoned shell, like this place?” Vera asked nervously.

  “Our goal is to find someone who can take charge of the kingdom,” Lorik answered. “Surely someone must still be in the capital.”

  “Maybe,” Stone said. He glanced back over his shoulder to make sure that the volunteers were following along behind them and not rooting through the ruined city for treasures.

  “Do you think these creatures went into the Marshlands?” Vera asked.

  “Not if they know what’s good for them,” Lorik said.

  “I thought your mud dragons were bad,” Stone said. “At least they didn’t actually fly.”

  “Speaking of flying dragons,” Lorik said. “I wouldn’t mind for the wizard to come flying back in on his. I’ll bet they could make quick work of these monsters.”

  “There’s not much hope of that, though, is there?” Vera said. “We’re on our own here. King Oveer took his army and left us alone.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Stone said. “Why wouldn’t he leave at least some of his warriors to guard the queen?”

  “There was never any real love between those two,” Vera said. “Not if the rumors are true.”

  “So Queen Issalyn didn’t love her philandering husband,” Lorik said. “She certainly wouldn’t be the first.”

  “Nor the last, I’d say,” Stone added.

  “And the king was a pompous fool,” Lorik went on. “If she’s still alive, she could rally the people to our cause and lift the spirits of all the refugees who had to flee their homes.”

  “Unless she really is as cold as people say,” Vera said.

  “I still think you should simply declare yourself king and have it done with,” Stone said to Lorik. “Who could deny you? And besides, you’re twice the man Oveer was.”

  “Don’t talk that way,” Lorik said. “I’m not trying to become king.”

  “What about that Kingtree thing in the Wilderlands,” Stone said. “Don’t the forest elves already consider you our king?”

  “It’s complicated,” Lorik said.

  “Not so much,” Stone said. “You’re the right man for the job. That’s a fact.”

  Vera looked at Lorik. She had known him almost her entire life. First as protector, then as her lover and friend. He had been gallant when Stone had shown up in their village on the southern tip of Ortis and stolen her heart. He had befriended the young fighter and even partnered with him. They made an odd pair, the burly teamster and the lithe, young warrior, but their friendship had been strong. Vera loved Lorik like a brother, but she couldn’t always understand what drove him. Now that his physical attributes had been enhanced by the magic of the Drery Dru, she knew that Lorik could do whatever he wanted. She doubted that any man could best him in combat, and she knew that no woman could resist him if he tried to woo her. The young men from the farms and villages they passed begged to become part of his small force of volunteers. Yet, he still didn’t seem comfortable. He still seemed to be searching for something to give him peace.

  “Let’s stay focused on the task at hand,” Lorik said. “We need to find a place to make camp. And I want scouts out in all four directions.”

  “You’ve got it,” Stone said.

  The young warrior turned his horse and rode back to the volunteers who were following on foot, leading their own horses to give the beasts a rest. He gave the men orders and they all mounted up. Two kicked their horses into a gallop and rode past Lorik and Vera. The others spread out in a line to either side of the wagon. They stayed within easy shouting distance of the man to their right and left, just in case trouble found them. They set the butts of their spears on the top of their stirrups, so they could be held easily with one hand and quickly brought around and made ready for action.

  They rode until twilight, then they made camp, leaving the wagon in the middle of the road. They built small fires using whatever fuel they could find, included dried dung. Occasionally, they saw or heard people moving in the darkness, beyond the ring of fire, but they couldn’t see in the darkness. Clouds had formed a blanket over the stars and the night felt oppressively dark. Lorik took the first watch, and he couldn’t help but think of his first night in the Wilderlands. It had been dark there as well, almost like a cave, with the thick tree trunks blocking out any light that tried to penetrate the great forest. He’d felt exposed in the Wilderlands; he’d felt the eyes of the Drery Dru watching him long before he even knew they existed. Now, he felt a sense of barrenness, like a woman without children. The land was still alive, and he occasionally heard the shuffling of people moving through the darkness, but the sound he expected did not come. He listened intently in the darkness for the whirring hum of the Leffers’ wings.

  Hours passed slowly, but Lorik no longer needed as much sleep as before. A few hours rest could easily carry him through two days. So he took the watch, letting his men sleep. Not far away, Stone and Vera lay huddled together. At first, he had resented their connection, their unmistakable love, but now he cherished it. They were his closest companions, the people who still saw the teamster, the simple man from the Marshlands. He could trust them, and their love for one another gave him comfort. He really had no idea what his own future held, but longevity wasn’t something he was counting on. He knew that if something happened to him, Stone and Vera would have each other to lean on.

  The sun was finally rising when he roused his volunteers. They broke camp and ate cold rations as they pushed farther south. It was close to midday when they saw a large group moving toward them.

  “Who do think that is?” Stone asked.

  “I don’t know,” Lorik admitted. “Big group, though.”

  “V
ery big,” Stone agreed. “And it looks like they’re staying together.”

  “Let’s go find out,” Lorik said.

  “Be careful,” Vera called from the wagon.

  “Yes, dear,” Stone replied sarcastically.

  They spurred their horses forward. Lorik’s Shire horse couldn’t keep up a gallop very long, but it did its best. When they were finally close enough to the large group, they could see that it was mostly made up of villagers. Many carried their possessions on makeshift packs which they strapped onto their backs. A few had hand carts and there were children running and playing together along the edges of the crowd.

  “Would you look at that,” Stone said.

  He was referring to the large group of women in the center of the group. They were obviously servants; most wore plain dresses and they stayed close together. In the center of the group of women were two horses. The women who sat on them were older. One of the horses even carried two of the frail looking matrons.

  “You think they’re from Ort City?” Lorik asked.

  “That would be my guess,” Stone replied.

  “Well, let’s go introduce ourselves.”

  They rode forward, coming eventually to a stop twenty paces from the crowd, which eyed them warily. A horn sounded and the group stopped. Many of the exhausted looking villagers dropped their packs and some even sat down on the ground to rest.

  “Hello!” Lorik called out. “My name is Lorik.”

  “We have not time for bandits,” came a strong, feminine voice from the crowd.

  “We’re not bandits,” Lorik shouted back. “We are volunteers. We’ve come from the Wilderlands to help fight the monsters.”

  “Are you the same volunteers who defeated the Norsik raiders?” the woman asked.

  The crowd was parting and a smaller group of women, all armed with swords and shields, came forward. In the center was a tall woman, with thick, wavy brown hair. Around her head was a golden band with jewels that sparkled in the weak, winter sunlight. She stared at Lorik, both proud and cautious.

  “We are,” Lorik said. “Although we had some help.”

  “I will speak to you,” she said.

  “Well, that’s mighty nice of her,” Stone said quietly to Lorik.

  “Let’s go,” Lorik said.

  They slipped off their horses and left the animals grazing on the trampled grass. Lorik walked toward the group, with Stone just a few steps behind him. The small circle of women with their weapons held ready spread out and the woman with the crown stepped forward.

  “What is your name?” the woman asked.

  “I am Lorik, originally from the Marshlands, but of late from the north.”

  “And you fought the Norsik?”

  “We did, my lady. In fact, we rescued quite a large group from across the border and helped repel the Norsik from Ortis.”

  “You helped? Are there more groups like yours in the north?”

  “Some,” Lorik said. “Volunteers were called for when the King’s Army left the border undefended.”

  “The King’s Army,” she said bitterly. “Ortis has no king now, I’m sure of that. My husband was a fool.”

  “You are Queen Issalyn?” Lorik asked.

  “I am,” she said. “And these are the survivors of Ort City. We were beset by flying horse monsters.”

  “Yes, we’re familiar with the wicked creatures,” Lorik said.

  “Then you know they are taking people south. Something is very wrong, Lorik from the Marshlands. Something foul has taken root in the Five Kingdoms.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Lorik said. “A wizard came on a dragon, to the north where I was fighting the Norsik. He saved me, saved us all really. He and the dragon drove the Norsik back into the Wilderlands and across the border.”

  “A wizard on a dragon?” Issalyn said skeptically.

  “I know,” Lorik said, “it’s hard to believe.”

  “Well, I’ve seen monsters from my worst nightmares, why not a wizard on a dragon.”

  “He brought news from the south, dire news I’m afraid.”

  “I would hear it, no matter how dire,” Issalyn said.

  “I will tell you everything, but I think it might be wise to keep moving north. My men will escort you and guard against the monsters, but a group of people this size will be a tempting target.”

  “Of course you’re right,” Issalyn said. She turned to one of the other women. “Vistance, sound the march.”

  “As you wish, my Queen,” said a strong looking woman with a ram’s horn hung around her neck.

  She lifted the horn and blew three blasts, the sound was low and solemn. The crowd began walking again. Lorik turned toward Stone.

  “I want us to take a position behind them,” he ordered. “Have the men spread out and make sure everyone stays alert.”

  “We’re going north again?” Stone asked.

  “We’ve found what we were looking for. Have Vera load the weakest into the wagon and stay on this side of the group. She can lead the way back to the Wilderlands.”

  “You’ve got it,” Stone said.

  He hurried back to his horse and stepped quickly up into the saddle. He turned the horse and galloped back toward the group of volunteers. Lorik’s horse watched him go with a large, brown eye, then went back to munching grass. Lorik turned back to Queen Issalyn.

  “Would you care to ride on my horse?” Lorik asked.

  “That is no beast for a lady,” Issalyn said. “I would feel safer if you were on it protecting us from those monsters.”

  “I will, my lady, although I prefer to fight on my feet,” Lorik explained.

  He took the horse’s reins and fell into step beside Queen Issalyn. The queen’s shieldmaidens surrounded them both and they led the group of refugees forward.

  “You were forced to flee Ort City?” Lorik asked.

  “The cities walls were manned with volunteers. My foolish husband didn’t even leave the castle guard. We had weapons, but no trained warriors. When the reports came in about the monsters, we closed the city gates and kept men on the walls. Unfortunately, walls don’t stop flying horses.”

  “No,” Lorik said grimly. “I suppose not.”

  “We were quickly overrun. We stayed after the first and second wave of monsters, but it was soon obvious that it was only a matter of time before we would all be taken or killed. The monsters tore through the roofs of the homes and shops throughout the city. The castle was spared, but only because there were easier victims. So after the second attack in as many days, I declared a state of emergency and urged everyone to leave with us.”

  “What of the other nobles?” Lorik asked. “Surely the royal court was filled with able-bodied men to protect you.”

  “No, they were all called into service by my husband. He’s gone south to Osla and left us completely undefended.”

  “I have news of the king,” Lorik said grimly. “Unfortunately, it isn’t good news.”

  “There hasn’t been good news in regard to King Oveer in a long time,” Issalyn said sadly. “What have you heard?”

  “The wizard told me that a witch in Osla cast a spell over your husband and the entire royal army. That is why he went south and why he called for all his troops to join him. Unfortunately, King Oveer was slain and most of the army massacred. The Grand City was destroyed by the witch, and it was she who unleashed these hellish monsters on the Five Kingdoms.”

  Issalyn was suddenly as white as a sheet, her lips pressed hard together and her eyes glistened with tears. Lorik felt sorry for her, but there was no use hiding the truth from her. He had hoped to find someone in Ort City who could rally the people of Ortis and deal with King Ricard. Queen Issalyn had never taken an active role in ruling the kingdom; her husband was too flamboyant to share glory, even with his wife. Rumors abounded that she had been pushed aside when she failed to become pregnant shortly after their marriage. King Oveer didn’t even try to pretend to be faithful. Instead, he was bl
atantly adulterous, taking to his bedchambers every young woman who crossed his path. Still, Issalyn was known as the queen and people would flock to her banner in the sudden vacuum of power.

  “The wizard told you all this?” she asked.

  “He did, my lady. He was there. I have only his word, but I’m a good judge of character. He helped us when he didn’t have to. I believe him.”

  “So the king really is dead,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

  “I’m afraid so, my Queen, but that is not the worst of the news.”

  “What?” she asked, her voice suddenly cold.

  “These monsters aren’t killing people,” Lorik said.

  “They are taking them somewhere,” Issalyn said.

  “Yes,” Lorik agreed. “The wizard said they were taking them back to the witch and that she is transforming them into an army. He was convinced that army, or at least a portion of it, would come here. He urged me to ally with King Ricard and the Baskla army. He was going north to recruit the magical creatures from the northern Highlands, before joining the army from Yelsia and what remained of the Falxisian army. They were planning to make a stand along the Walheta Mountains.”

  “It’s like a nightmare and a fairy tale had a child,” she said. “How are we to face such horrors?”

  “As bravely as possible, my lady,” Lorik said. “I will lead your army.”

  “I have no army,” she said bitterly.

  “Then we will build you one. You must send envoys to King Ricard. Surely you can find safety among the royal court in Forxam.”

  “The spurned queen of a spoiled and foolish king, whose kingdom is overrun with monsters. I don’t think I’m much of a prize to be sheltered when all my people are in danger of death or worse.”

  “But you must be the rallying point for our people. If we’re to have any hope of surviving, surely you can see the value of that.”

  “I see the wisdom of your plan, Lorik, although I must admit that it seems strange to be taking advice from a man I’ve never heard of before. You said you’re from the Marshlands?”

  “Yes,” Lorik said. “I went north to fight the Norsik invaders.”