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Merek's Ascendance Page 12
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A thousand angry rebuttals burst into Merek’s brain, each one more vehement than the last.
But there was only one answer to give.
“Yes sir.”
His father smiled before holding out his hand. Without looking him in the eye, hating himself for what he was doing, Merek reached down to his coin purse (such a weird thing to have) and pulled out thirty gold. He had exactly thirty-two pieces, though he was careful not to let his father see the extra gold.
“Well, that’s the first time you’ve ever actually done anything useful. I’ll be seeing you… son.” The last word was dripping with venom, and Merek could feel it poison him. His father left the room, leaving Merek to stew in his thoughts.
When he finally rejoined Thorald and Julia, Julia looked worried and Thorald had downed even more drinks, and was therefore even more excited.
“And we’ll fight to the bitter eeeeend!” Thorald was singing, “even though the wooooounds shall never meeeend! Our enemiiiies will fall at our feeeet, as they driiiink of the battle’s heeeeeat!”
Merek pulled his calm smile into place, pushing his dread and his rage into the furthest, darkest corner of his mind. Julia smiled back, but he could tell that she wasn’t fooled by his smile.
He had fooled both a king and a prince simply by smiling, but a pretty woman with a kind heart wouldn’t follow.
“So,” Thorald said as he finished singing, “who was that man?”
Merek’s smile didn’t falter, though worry crept into his eyes. “What man?”
“The dirty fellow with the mean look. He was staring at you for a full minute.”
“Oh,” Merek said, thinking quickly. He cast around for something, anything to lie with, and finally he thought of the dead poacher. He instinctively shuddered at the memory, but it gave him an idea.
“He’s an informant. I met him when I was in the forest, and asked him to help me track down a few poachers.”
“How much does he charge?”
“Thirty pieces of gold,” Merek replied. So far, he mentally added.
“I hope he’s closing in on them, for that price!” Thorald said.
“He is,” Merek said. When had he become so practiced at bold-faced lying? “In fact, I was wondering if I could go out tomorrow and track them down.”
“Would you want a partner in this endeavor?” Thorald said, sounding much more sober than he had been two minutes ago.
“Possibly,” Merek replied, “who did you have in mind?”
“Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a good hunt, but I’d enjoy trying my hand again.”
“I don’t suppose you boys would let a lowly blacksmith join you?” Julia said to the floor. Merek actually blanched a small bit, surprised, as she looked up to make the smallest moment of eye contact with him.
“Well, seeing as this is Merek’s hunt, that makes it my staunch protector’s decision.”
“And why would you want to join us?” Merek asked, interested.
“You two? Alone in the woods? I want you both to come back alive,” she laughed, but the laugh felt forced to Merek, as if something else was worrying her.
“You wound us!” Thorald said, taking another deep swig of his ale, “we’ve conquered plenty in that forest. We conquered a tornado, dear lady!”
“I’m pretty sure ‘escaped’ is more the word,” Merek laughed.
“Semantics,” Thorald countered, “I say we bring the lass with us. She seems ready to help.”
“If that’s what you want,” Merek said, nodding to Julia, “than you are most welcome.”
Now she smiled, a real smile that lit up her face. Merek couldn’t tell what her motives were, but he had read somewhere that there was safety in numbers. Even as he stared at his two friends, his own smile faded. He didn’t deserve friends like these, friends who would follow him into danger.
An unfriendly face was all the reminder he needed of that.
The next morning, Merek, Prince Thorald and Julia met at the blacksmith’s shop. Merek was lightly equipped with only his staff strapped to his back and his sword in its sheath. Thorald was wearing a breastplate that was partially hidden under a green cloak, with a mighty sword strapped to his back. Julia had at least six daggers in a vest clearly of her own making, with more no doubt hidden underneath her black cloak.
“A blacksmith, eh?” Thorald said, “And yet you’ve made a very impressive leather vest.”
“I dabble,” she replied.
“When you two get married,” Thorald whispered to Merek while Julia turned to lock the door behind her, “you’re naming your first child after me.”
It took all of Merek’s concentration to keep from bursting out laughing. As it was, he smiled from ear to ear and shook his head at his friend’s candor.
“What’s that smile for?” Julia said when she faced front again.
“He was just remarking how nice you look this morning,” Thorald said.
“I was actually going to tell her myself,” Merek said defensively.
“Were you? He’s so adorable,” Thorald said, placing an arm on both of their shoulders before strutting off towards the forest. “Well, we have poachers to bring to justice. Shall we?”
“I might just stab him,” Merek whispered to Julia, who laughed. Merek was having trouble figuring out if he had ever heard a sound he liked more before shaking away the thought.
“Or you might,” he continued, “Did you make all of those.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she replied, “it’s good practice.”
“Are you practiced with them?”
“I dabble.”
Merek didn’t know how to take that as they fell into step beside Thorald, who seemed to be in incredibly high spirits.
“What’s got you so excited this morning?” Merek asked.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just… I’m not a prince with you. Or you, my lady,” he added with a wink. Merek was tempted to elbow him in the ribs on principle. “We’re just out here, doing our best to uphold justice. No phalanx of guards or garrison of soldiers constantly falling over themselves. Just… just us.”
“You sound as if being a prince is exhausting,” Merek said.
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” Thorald immediately replied, “I just… I wish I could be a prince and a person too.”
“You could be a princely person,” Merek suggested. Both Thorald and Julia actually groaned in unison.
“What?” Merek chuckled.
Julia smiled at him, though he was sure most of the smile was out of pity rather than amusement. That was okay, he wasn’t much expecting that joke to be particularly funny anyway.
“Or a personly… no, a person…”
“Personable?” Thorald supplied.
“Yes! That one! A personable prince.”
“Or both,” Julia said, and Thorald groaned again.
“Never mind,” he said, “I need new friends.”
“Oh, come now. You just made new friends,” Merek said. The laughter stopped abruptly as they approached the stables. A cart and driver were waiting for passengers, and without a word the three of them put their hoods up.
They boarded a cart that would take them down the road to Tules. Merek didn’t know for sure where to go from there, but he knew the general direction that the poachers had taken when last he had seen them.
They said nothing as they traveled, all of them focusing on the task at hand. Merek closed his eyes, trying to picture the likeliest route they had taken. Even in all of his months in the Great Forest, he hadn’t traveled all of it. He didn’t know how large it really was, but he had traversed a good deal of land. Given the direction that they had last traveled, they were in the general vicinity of Tules. Unless they had moved since then, which was always a possibility.
“So,” Thorald said as they huddled together, “what do you think?”
“I think we should ask the villagers if they have any information. If animals have
gone missing, if they’ve been stealing from the townsfolk, someone might have noticed.”
“Sounds good.”
“What do you think?” Merek asked Julia, who appeared to be deep in thought.
“That sounds like a good plan. We should work the taverns and the inns. A lot of travelers who like to gossip should make for good information.”
“Too bad your tracker couldn’t get us any closer,” Thorald said, “for what you paid him.”
“It’ll be close enough,” Merek replied, and said nothing more.
When they reached Tules, the three of them split up. Thorald and Julia both went to different taverns, while Merek headed for the inn.
It was a quiet setting, the inn. People talked in small groups, a black haired male bard sang a gentle song, and the innkeeper minded the table with a smile.
It was the innkeeper that Merek headed to, taking a seat at the table.
“What can I get you, traveler?”
“Hello, ma’am,” Merek said politely. Her brown hair flowed down her back while her brown eyes seemed tired, and her smile seemed forced closer up. She seemed taken aback but pleased, and she leaned over the counter towards him.
“Not many courteous people these days. Most of them have been scared off.”
She immediately closed her mouth, knowing she had said more than she had meant to.
“Scared off by what?” Merek said quietly, leaning closer to offer her some protection from prying ears.
“We’re not supposed to talk about it. Otherwise… they’ll know.”
“Where can I find them?”
“What?” The Innkeeper’s eyes widened, shocked.
“The poachers. Or bandits, I’m assuming. They stay close by and intimidate you, keep you from reporting thefts to the guards. I’m here to bring them to justice. Where can I find them?”
“They… I can’t. If they find out…”
“They won’t,” Merek said, “just keep smiling. Pretend we’re flirting.”
“My husband will enjoy that,” she said, but she smiled anyway.
“I mean no disrespect,” Merek replied, smiling as well. She leaned closer, lifting her head to better show her chest.
“Now,” Merek said without breaking eye contact, “where are they?”
“In the forest. Never too far, because we sometimes can hear them when they get particularly… rowdy. When they want us to hear them. If you catch my drift.”
Merek was sure he didn’t, but he didn’t stop smiling.
“North of town, but how many miles… I don’t know.”
“That’s okay. That’s everything I need. Thank you, ma’am. And tell your husband what I’m about to do next is just to keep you out of danger.”
Before she could react, Merek leaned forward and kissed her cheek, winking at her as he left the inn.
Here’s hoping that book wasn’t wrong.
Merek went to the middle of the town to wait, as they had decided. He didn’t have to wait long before the others arrived, though neither looked particularly happy.
“Nothing,” Thorald said the moment he stopped walking.
“No one knew anything,” Julia said as she stood at Merek’s left shoulder.
“Oh, people knew,” Thorald yelped in anger, “but everyone is too afraid. Everyone. I asked three or four people, and each of them looked as if they were seeing a ghost. They know and no one is willing to talk.”
“Did you find anything, Merek?” Julia asked.
“North of town, not too far. Three miles at most.”
“How did you find that out?”
“I convinced the innkeeper to flirt with me,” Merek said without thinking. Julia had a strange look on her face, and both Merek and Thorald noticed.
“It was an act, of course,” Thorald supplied, coming to Merek’s rescue yet again.
“Yes,” Merek replied, “just so we’d convince anyone watching that nothing important was going on. It was just for information.”
“Well, we’d best act on it,” Julia said, turning away. Merek and Thorald exchanged a look, Merek of confusion and Thorald of worry.
He had faked flirting with the innkeeper to get information on their quarry. What was the harm?
“Did I do something wrong?” Merek whispered to Thorald as they left town.
“I’d ask her. Right now. Seriously, now, go ask her.”
Merek took a deep breath, moving closer to Julia. She didn’t look particularly upset, but her eyes did seem preoccupied.
“Did I do something wrong?” Merek repeated.
“No,” Julia replied, her whole face scrunching up in confusion. “Why would you think that?”
“You seem… unhappy, I guess?”
“With what?”
Merek did he best not to roll his eyes. Why did she insist on making this more difficult than it needed to be?
“With… flirting with the innkeeper.”
Her jaw dropped. If Merek didn’t know any better, he’d say she was completely lost. Now it was only Merek who was having trouble maintaining eye contact.
“You can fake flirt with whomever you want. That’s your right.”
“But I don’t want to upset you.”
“Do you plan on marrying the innkeeper?”
“Considering she already has a husband, that wasn’t my intention.”
“Then why would I care?”
Merek opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He closed it and opened it again, but still nothing but air escaped.
Merek stopped dead as a sound reached his ears. Thorald took the opportunity to whisper, “and your second child too. Boy or girl, I don’t care.”
“Shush,” Merek said, his ears straining. He knew that sound, what was it…
He heard it again, and this time he recognized the growl. But it wasn’t a strong growl, no, it was pained. Hurt. It was in so much pain Merek didn’t want to believe his ears.
“No,” was all Merek said before he sprinted into the forest. His friends followed behind him, neither one speaking but following dutifully.
They weren’t running long.
Emerging from the bushes with a roar so pitiful it broke Merek’s heart came one of the bear cubs.
Its fear was palpable, and it lashed out at Merek. Merek reflexively caught the blow and started whispering to the bear. It was bigger now, growing up, but it wasn’t fully grown yet. Maybe it still remembered.
“Don’t you remember me? It’s me. You know me.”
The bear backed away, eyes full of fear. Thinking quickly, Merek stripped off everything from the waist up, leaving only his pants and boots. That’s how the two had met. Maybe it would spark something in the bear’s brain.
To Merek’s very great surprise, it worked.
The bear moved forward, burying its head in Merek’s lap. Then the bear started to shake, great large shakes that in turn shook Merek. Merek couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but there was no disputing it.
The cub was crying.
“That’s a bear,” Julia said, holding one of her daggers in her hand.
“This is my friend,” Merek replied, breathing heavily.
“I didn’t know bears could cry,” Thorald said.
“Neither did I,” Merek said. “I must admit, I never thought about it. And now that he is… I never wanted to find out.”
“Why is he crying?”
Merek looked around, but no more bears came forward. It was all the answer he needed.
“His mother. They’ve got his mother.”
Chapter Eleven: Bandit Raid
“We can still save her,” Merek said, pleading with his friends.
“Save some animals who aren’t supposed to be hunted and take out our targets…” Thorald said, “Sounds like a good deal to me.”
“Let’s do it,” Julia said, drawing another dagger.
Merek gently patted the bear’s head, doing his best to silently reassure it. He quickly redressed before he took
off running. The bear had luckily left a trail of broken branches and crushed leaves behind it, making it easy to track.
They raced through the forest, looking for anything that might tell them how close they were.
Merek was the first to find it. He pulled up short, and the others stopped behind him.
“We’re close,” Merek said, bending over to examine a string tied between two trees.
“How can you tell?”
“Tripwire,” Merek said, pointing to the string suspended only a few inches off of the ground.
“What’s that?”
“Something holding a trap together. Maybe spikes. Depends on how much thought they put into this.”
“How do you know that?” Julia asked, sounding rather impressed.
“I read a lot,” he replied, following the wire to try and see what waited after it.
“That’s true,” Thorald chimed in, “he’s read half of the books in the library. I taught him how to read and he just took off, reading a book every hour.”
“Really?”
“No,” Merek interjected, “he exaggerates. I read a book every other day.”
“Sometimes every day!” Thorald said.
“Fine. Yes. Sometimes every day. Now, if we could focus…?”
“Right. Sorry. What do you think we should do?”
“I… I don’t know. I want to save the bears… but I don’t want to kill anyone.”
He looked up at Thorald, who shared a look with Julia. Neither one of them wanted to speak, or maybe they just didn’t know what to say. Either way, Merek was left kneeling in the grass, staring at the trap so badly disguised.
“Honestly…” Thorald finally said, “This is your choice. We can’t make it for you. But whichever you choose, I’ve got your back.”
“Me too. Whichever course you take,” Julia said.
Knight of Wentana, eh? But unwilling to spill blood. Can’t really keep up this ruse if you aren’t willing to act like a knight. And a knight brings wrongdoers to justice.
Merek looked off. What did he care about justice? It wasn’t like justice ever cared for him.
So if he wasn’t willing to kill for justice, what was he willing to do? And for what purpose?
He heard the roar of a bear, one that was in both physical and emotional agony. And in that moment, in that single second separated from the rest of time, Merek knew. The same as when the poacher had struck and Merek had cut him down.