“Is it a Lowsee scout?” the second knight asked.
“No,” the first knight answered. He dismounted and walked cautiously toward me. “He is too light-skinned to be a Lowsee.”
What the heck was a Lowsee?
“Dead?” the second knight asked. He didn’t even bother getting down from his horse.
The first knight knelt down to find out. When our eyes met, his opened even wider in surprise.
“You!” he exclaimed, as if he recognized me.
“Who is it?” the second knight asked, finally getting off his horse.
“You are hurt,” the first knight said, actually sounding worried about me. “We will get help.” He stood up straight and called back to his advancing army. “A stretcher!” he called. “Hurry!”
By this time the second knight was staring at me too.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“It is Pendragon,” the first knight answered. “We owe this man our future. Without him, we would not have the weapons to attack the Lowsee.”
The second knight shot me a quick, surprised look. “This is the man who unearthed the tak?”
“It is,” the first knight answered. “He has changed the future of all Denduron.”
It was the absolute last thing I wanted to hear. I had become the merchant of death.
I closed my eyes and let darkness fall.
JOURNAL #35
(CONTINUED)
DENDURON
It felt like my shoulder was on fire. It really did. I actually thought it was burning. I forced myself to wake up, thinking I had to find some water and put out the flames. I wasn’t on fire of course. I was feeling the effects of a foot-long double slash that ran across my shoulder onto my chest. I cracked open an eye to try and get my bearings. Disoriented? Yeah, you could say that. I stole a quick glance at my arm to see there were no flames, only a clean white bandage that wrapped my left arm to my side like I was a half mummy. Oh, right. The quig. Ouch. I twisted my head one way to see that I was in a hut. A big one. I was on my back on a cot. A long string of cots were lined up next to mine. All were empty. I twisted my head back to the left to see even more cots lined up. Looking past my feet toward the opposite wall, I saw still another row of cots. Also empty. It seemed I was the only guest in this very big hospital.
“Would you like some water?”
I shifted my gaze to the voice and saw a young girl headed my way with a pitcher and a cup. She may have been pretty, with long dark hair tied up into a practical knot, but this was no candy striper. She wore the lightweight, black leather armor of a Bedoowan knight. I nodded. The girl knelt by the cot, lifted my head with one hand, and brought the cup to my lips. I took a small sip. I didn’t want to choke. It felt great. It was like washing away a coating of sand inside my throat.
“That’s enough,” she said as she gently lowered my head.
“Thank you,” I croaked. “Uh, where am I?”
“The hospital,” she answered. “You were lucky the advance force found you.”
I reached up with my right hand and felt my burning shoulder.
“One hundred and twenty stitches,” she said, as if reading my mind. “You lost a lot of blood. How did it happen?”
How the heck was I supposed to answer that? I decided to tell the truth. Sort of. I was tired of playing games.
“Wild animal,” I answered. “He lost more blood than I did.”
“Why were you up on the mountain?” she asked.
“Sightseeing.”
She gave me a strange look. I shrugged.
“No matter,” she said dismissively. “You are here now and you will survive. Your wound is already showing signs of healing. It is quite remarkable actually.”
I shrugged again. It hurt to shrug. I stopped shrugging.
“Why is the hospital so empty?” I asked. “Hard to believe that I’m the only sick guy around here.”
“It will not be empty for long,” she answered solemnly. “This ward was built to treat the wounded.”
“Lotta cots. Expecting more patients than normal?” I asked, confused.
She frowned. “It is what happens in war.”
“War?” I shouted, and sat up quickly. Just as quickly, I wished I hadn’t. My head spun. I wasn’t healing so fast after all. I dropped back down and closed my eyes, trying to hold on to consciousness.
“Rest,” she said professionally. “We will move you once the wounded begin to arrive.”
I think I slipped in and out of reality awhile. For how long I didn’t know. Images of the advancing Bedoowan army kept dancing through my head like a feverish nightmare. There was going to be a war. The Bedoowan knights who found me on the mountain were an advance team. Who were they going to fight? The knights talked about using tak, which meant the worst had happened. By digging out the tak to defend Ibara, I had given Saint Dane a second shot at Denduron. The turning point of the territory was the discovery of tak. By destroying the tak mine, I had only shifted the turning point. Worse, I feared that I had begun a chain of events that would be felt throughout Halla. Denduron was on the verge of a war. Dados had returned to Ibara. What else was happening? What would it all lead to? The answer was obvious.
Convergence.
History-changing events were being influenced by events on different territories. It was the ultimate mixing of worlds. The destiny of each territory was no longer its own. This was Saint Dane’s Convergence. I was the one who was given the task of stopping it. Instead, I was the one who started it. It made me wish that the slash from the quig had been a bit higher and hit my throat.
I was vaguely aware of people hurrying in and out of the large ward, preparing the cots for the wounded. Every so often somebody would check on me. I didn’t care. I wanted to die. I think a night went by. Maybe two. I lost track of time, which is kind of an understatement, since I had actually lost track of time the very first moment I stepped into the flume when I was fourteen. What made me finally rejoin reality was the feeling that somebody was standing over me, watching. Unlike the many caregivers who came and went, this person didn’t move. He kind of hovered there, as if waiting for me to say something. It gave me enough of an uneasy feeling that I willed myself to crawl from the darkness where I had been living. When I focused, I was surprised to see Rellin, the chief miner of the Milago. But something wasn’t right. He was wearing the armor of a Bedoowan knight. Stranger still, this armor had bright yellow stripes on both arms. It looked like a fancy-dress version of the familiar black armor.
“Welcome back, Pendragon!” Rellin exclaimed warmly. “I was afraid we had lost you.”
Rellin sat down on the cot next to me. I did my best to focus on him.
“I want to hear about your adventure,” he exclaimed. “Did the tak serve you well?”
It took me a few seconds to understand what he was asking. When I came to Denduron with Siry, I told Rellin that we needed to unearth more tak to help a tribe on the other side of the mountain. I didn’t mention that the people happened to be on the other side of the mountain…on a territory called Ibara.
“Yes” was the only answer I gave him. I didn’t want to tell him just how effective the tak had been.
“I am glad,” he said with a smile. “And I am glad that you have returned to us.”
“There’s going to be a war?” I asked.
Rellin smiled. He actually smiled. You’d think that somebody on the verge of war would be kind of, oh I don’t know, nervous? Sober? Tense? Not Rellin. The idea of going into battle made his eyes sparkle.
“The Lowsee are threatening our very existence by hoarding triptyte,” he explained. “Without it, our village would go dark. And all because they are greedy for glaze. What is more important? Light or wealth? They have chosen wealth. They will suffer for it.”
“You’re going to use tak on them,” I said softly.
“We are going to destroy them!” Rellin exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “We have given them every ch
ance to make a fair arrangement for their triptyte. They have proven to be greedy and shortsighted. We have broken off discussions and will now speak with our swords…and with tak.”
Most of what he was saying didn’t matter to me. It was all just a lot of blah blah blah. The bottom line was what mattered. The Bedoowan had tak and they were using it to attack another tribe. After that…what? Would the Bedoowan and the Milago become the aggressive force that Uncle Press feared? What would that mean to the rest of Denduron? Was the territory going to be ruled by fear and aggression? Was this what Saint Dane wanted? Was the territory going to be laid waste like Veelox? Was this going to be the future of every territory? My head hurt worse now than when I had first been brought to the hospital.
“I’d like to see Alder,” I said.
Rellin scowled. “Alder has been imprisoned.”
I wanted to jump up and scream, “Why?” but forced myself to keep calm. I had already learned that lesson.
“You are not a Bedoowan,” Rellin explained. “The fact that you left to help another tribe was your choice. Alder did not have that choice, yet he deserted us. Still, that would not have been enough to imprison him.”
“Then why?”
“He tried to destroy our tak mine,” Rellin answered. “I do not know why. He would not answer me. I am sorry to say that Alder has been branded a traitor. For his actions he has been sentenced to death.”
My head swam. Things were happening fast, but they were all too clear. Alder must have returned to find exactly what I found, and tried to destroy the tak. He failed, and now he was going to be executed for doing his job as a Traveler. My job. I should have been here. This was my fault too. Halla was crashing down around me in every possible way.
“I am sorry, Pendragon,” Rellin said. “I know that Alder was your friend. I believed he was my friend as well. I suppose we do not always know everything about our friends.”
“When?” I gasped.
“Tomorrow morning. It is the last official duty I will attend to before leaving to lead the attack on the Lowsee. I would not expect you to be there. I understand how difficult this must be for you.” Rellin knelt down by me and took my arm. “Do not dwell on the negative. Did you know that I am now king?”
“Uhhh, no.”
“Kagan and I were married. Our union has brought the Milago and the Bedoowan together. We are now a single, mighty tribe that will soon rule all of Denduron. You are here at the start of a glorious new era. Revel in it. When the history of our world is written, you will hold a place of honor. When the battle is complete, we will talk again about what role you wish to play in our new tribe. You have earned that right, Pendragon.”
He smiled and left. I didn’t feel much like reveling. I didn’t feel very honorable. I didn’t want any part of his new tribe. I felt I had done everything wrong since the moment I left home as a Traveler. As I lay there on that cot, alone, in pain, I felt as if everything were lost. Denduron would only be the beginning. Stories like the one I’d just heard from Rellin would play out across Halla. I don’t believe it’s possible to feel any lower than I felt at that moment. All the sacrifices the Travelers had made were for nothing. Saint Dane had won. It would have been so easy for me to roll over and close my eyes. All I wanted was to go back to sleep and hopefully never wake up. There was only one thing that stopped me from doing it.
Alder.
He was still alive. I may have lost Denduron. I may have lost Halla. There was no way I would let my friend die. It had nothing to do with Saint Dane. It was about saving Alder. It was all I had left. Of course, that meant I actually had to stand up and move. Not an easy thing. I threw my legs over, sat up, and immediately puked. All over the floor. Nobody saw. Nobody cared. Least of all, me. I wasn’t going to let a little thing like uncontrollable nausea stop me. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, stood up, and puked again. I was a mess. I didn’t know if it was from my injuries or the blood loss or from whatever medicine they were giving me. I was a step above worthless. I struggled to put on the leather clothes I’d found at the flume. It took forever, since I was doing it with only one arm. My pounding head and weak stomach didn’t help. The pain that tore through my shoulder and chest made it nearly impossible to dress. But I didn’t give up. After a grueling twenty minutes, I was ready to stagger out of the hospital.
Next to the cot was the dado-killing weapon I’d used as a crutch on my way down the mountain. I still needed it. With every muscle in my body screaming in pain, I bent over to pick it up. It was worth the effort. I needed the heavy stick for balance. I held it close to my side and started limping for the door…
Just as the Bedoowan knight-nurse walked in.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, surprised.
She tried to force me to sit back down. I don’t know how, but I didn’t let her.
“Listen,” I said. “My friend is going to be executed tomorrow. I have to see him.”
“You are not well enough to move.”
“You’re a knight,” I shot back. “What would you do if your friend were going to die in the morning? Would you lie down and nurse your wounds?”
I saw her eyes soften. “No,” she said softly. “I know Alder. I do not understand his actions.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said quickly. “He’s my friend and I’m going to see him before he dies.”
The girl nodded. She understood.
“Where is he?” I demanded.
“There is a stockade near the ruins of the Bedoowan castle,” she explained. “That is where he is being kept and where the execution will take place.”
“Thank you,” I said. I meant it too. I pulled away from her and staggered toward the door.
“Pendragon?” she called. “Alder was a good knight. Why would he betray his own tribe?”
“That’s exactly why,” I answered. “Because he is a good knight.”
I left her with that totally confusing explanation. Alder did what he had to do. He knew the tak had sent the tribes down a destructive path, and he risked his own life to stop it. It may have been too late to save Denduron, but there was no way in hell I was going to let Alder die. I limped out of the hut to see that the hospital was on the edge of the Milago village. The town had been rebuilt since the tak-mine explosion. It was the beginning of a new society. Thanks to me, it was a society that had chosen the path of war and aggression instead of peace and growth. I looked out toward the ocean, where I knew the Bedoowan castle had once been cut into the bluffs. Several stone huts had been erected along the old path. Alder was in one of them.
The suns were setting. It was cold. The village was surprisingly quiet. Most of the people I saw walking between the huts were women. My guess was that most of the men had been pressed into war duty and were now marching up and over the mountain, toward their date with the Lowsee. Lights glowed in several of the huts. Nobody paid any attention to a raggy, staggering stranger who could barely put one foot in front of the other. I followed the winding dirt path toward the bluffs, passing several of the stone huts. My feet hurt. It was probably frostbite from my trek down the snowy mountain. I thought back to how my feet had gone so numb I couldn’t feel them. I kind of wished they’d go numb again. Each step was torture. If not for the dado weapon to lean on, I wouldn’t have made it very far.
Finally, after walking a few hundred yards that felt like a few hundred miles, I saw a larger stone hut that sat several yards away from the closest structure. A Bedoowan knight stood guard at the door. It had to be the stockade. I limped slowly up to the knight, trying to look every bit as weak as I felt, so that he wouldn’t think I was a threat. The guard had a cross-stave that he held out when I got within five yards of him. I stopped and held my hands out.
“I want to see the prisoner named Alder,” I announced.
“No one is allowed to enter,” the knight replied coldly.
“I’m his friend,” I said. “If he’s going to die tomorrow, he should be allowed to say g
ood-bye.”
The knight blinked. He wasn’t a jerk. “I am sorry that it has come to this.”
“Tell me about it,” I replied.
“I cannot let you in, but you may speak with him through his window.”
The guard retracted his stave and motioned for me to go around to the far side of the hut. Swell. More walking. I wasn’t complaining though. I rounded the hut to see a row of six windows that ran the length of the building. Each had strong vertical bars. I guessed that meant there were six cells. I walked along the row of windows, peering in each to look for Alder. The cells were empty, except for the last. I looked inside to see a man sitting on the floor with his head on his knees. He wore the same kind of leather I wore, which was strange because, when we were on Denduron, Alder always dressed as a knight. Not anymore. Seeing my large friend sitting there, looking so small, made my heart ache. Of all the Travelers, Alder was the most open, honest, and positive. He had saved my life more than once, never with any fear for himself. He was truly a noble warrior. It hurt to see him look so beaten.
“Hello, Alder,” I whispered.
The knight looked up, confused. His hair was ratty. His eyes unfocused. He was thinner than when I had seen him last.
“Who’s there?” he asked, dazed.
“I’m sorry, Alder. This is my fault,” I said softly.
“Pendragon!”
Alder shot up as if the ground were hot. He ran to the window and reached through the bars, grabbing the back of my neck in a warm hug with one of his big paws. The transformation had been instant and complete. Gone was the beaten boy. Alder was every bit the outgoing, positive knight he’d always been. When he grabbed me, it felt as if an electric charge flashed through my body. I don’t know how else to put it. It was more than just a surge of relief. It was an actual, physical sensation. My head suddenly felt a bit more clear. My nausea was forgotten.
Alder beamed. “I knew I would see you again.”
“But not like this,” I replied.