Jonathan Dunn - The Forgotten King

“It is as I said. Now, let us save ourselves.”

“We cannot, without the fleet. This water comes from the very bowels of the earth and washes over us as over the bottom of the sea. It is more than a flood: Atilta is sinking.”

“We cannot stop it, perhaps, but we can rise with it.”

“You speak in riddles, enemy, but there is little time to play semantics.”

“Forgive me. What I meant is this: we tore down the wooden buildings of the town and left them in the castle. If we work together we can build them into flat boats, to carry us until the fleets have ceased to fight.”

“Let it be done!”

With that, twenty thousand men turned their zeal to salvation and worked like a tidal wave upon the shore. They struck hard and fast. The wooden buildings were transformed into boats and rafts almost instantly. Yet even as they did, fate was against them. For the water continued to rise. And the land continued to sink.

Chapter 93

Meanwhile, as the Atiltian rebels fought the Atiltian and Hibernian armies, the French fleet fought the storm. The waves and wind were set against them. The passage was rough. Still, they came. Below deck, Vahan Lee and the King of France sat alone in the dining room.

“A splendid meal, Vahan,” the king said. He paused before adding, “It is a shame, however, that there will be no dessert tonight.”

“We are at war, your majesty, and such frivolities are to be discarded.”

“Yes, I understand perfectly. But to know is not to cease desiring.”

“Perhaps, but it is the beginning of a desire in the opposite direction. You must realize that this war, though fought on Atilta, decides the fate of France as well. Hibernia rules the three kingdoms and soon we will no longer be able to play England against them. The Moors come up from the south; Spain has already fallen. Alone, we too will fall; but with the Atiltian king returned to his throne, we can drive them back.”

“Yet these things are not affected by a small, trifling dessert.”

“I must disagree, my lord, for the theory is justified only in execution and the execution by its vigor. If you hunger for the desires of the flesh, you will burn to fulfill them; but the glutton has nothing more to gain,”and Vahan winced at his choice of words.

“A glutton, you say?” the king sighed. “So I am, and you are right. If not for your bureaucratic vigor, what would we come to? Come, Vahan, to war!”

With that they returned to the deck to watch the passage of the fleet. There were rooms above, sheltered from the elements, from which the storm could be observed. Meanwhile, in another section of the ship, Captain Khalid entered the armory, where de Garcia practiced his swordplay against a fighting dummy.

“The warrior’s retreat,” Khalid said.

De Garcia turned, saw his former warden and executioner, and smiled. “You ask me? As one warrior to another, you must know it is so.”

“So I do, but a man of your skill cannot have much to learn from a wooden opponent.”

“I learned things from your French soldiers, anyway.”

Khalid’s lipped turned upwards, but he could not be said to have smiled. “I have seen you in action against my men and will excuse your pride – though your future antagonists may not. I am told you were long a prisoner,” and Khalid took a thick rapier, identical to de Garcia’s sword, from the table. The ship swayed, as did the single lantern that lit the room. Still, the two men held their footing as if on land. “I have heard you were for many years a prisoner in the dungeons of Gylain. I am surprised, then, that you retain your strength of arms and of mind.”

De Garcia returned his look. He was, as Khalid said, in the greatest physical shape.

“I fought my chains every waking moment, until I fainted away in exhaustion. As for my mind, I do not know that it has kept so well; it lives only for revenge. You are a fighting man, as you say,” he looked down at the sword which Khalid had taken up. “Will we practice?”

“The ship rolls, it will be unsafe.”

“As is war, but have no fear: I will not let you be harmed.”

Khalid laughed. “Then let us practice.”

The two stood for a moment, their swords crossed. Then, without warning, de Garcia parried Khalid’s sword to the side and lunged at him. The other knocked it aside with a flick of his wrist and advanced with circling thrust, the point of his blade remaining within a coin’s circle. Their swords met seven times before a second passed. Khalid’s feverish charge was controlled by de Garcia’s quick ripostes. Still, he was forced back against the wall. De Garcia laughed and rolled beyond Khalid in a somersault, gaining his rear and sending a blow to his shoulder. It never hit. Khalid hurricaned around and parried the blow, forcing de Garcia’s blade into the air. De Garcia caught its momentum, deftly looped its point, and sent it towards Khalid. But the melee itself was parried by a voice from behind them.

“That is enough, friends,” and the two lowered their swords.

“Leggitt,” de Garcia bowed as he turned around, “You wish to join us in the fight?”

“A fight, yes, but not this one. We have broken through the storm and Thunder Bay is just ahead. It is held by Gylain’s fleet!”

Meanwhile, in another part of the ship, Patrick and Lydia sat in conversation, on the forward rail overlooking the sea. A deck below kept them from harm.

“You hold our country in your hands,” and Patrick held them in his own.

“Yet I am no warrior.”

“I am, and you hold my heart.”

“Only a fool mortgages that which is indispensable to him.”

“Did I set out to sell myself? Did I intend to be indentured to the flaming sun that holds your face and to the eyes that haunt my dreams? If I did, then yes, I am a fool. But no man is made a fool by fate, for fate the foolish do not understand.”

“When your desire is fulfilled, your passion will subside. Have I not seen it before? Patience is necessary in love: it is becoming more than being.”

“Then am I to become nothing? For this love consumes me. Am I to reap the nihilist’s demise because I cannot but see your beauty? If I see a forest in the distance, I cannot rest until I stroll among its trees and taste its leafy air. If I see the ocean beyond a bluff, I cannot breathe until I swim alongside its waves. And when I see your sunny hair and starry eyes, I cannot live until I walk along your lips and swing your tempered tongue. It is the way of nature.”

“Nature has many ways. Civilization has arisen to thwart them. Should a man kill to fulfill his hatred, or plunder to vanquish his hunger? Trees do not look back and seas have no heart; a woman does, and I am no pleasure cruise.”

Lydia turned her head to the storm and her blue eye to Patrick.

“Damnation drown my wayward heart, the siren cries!” Then, in a whisper, Patrick continued, “I am a vulture in the graveyard and the carrion my own.”

“A siege without a fight is no true tale, a woman without a tale no true bitch. Faith makes love, that when passion has fled desire remains. Let it be this way and it may be.”

“You give me hope!” Patrick cried in joy, “And I am not so foolish as to ask for more. Now, my love, I go to ready my arms, for look: the Atiltian coast approaches.”

He went below deck.At the same time, Willard and Ivona sat together.

“Silence does not suit your countenance, Ivona.”

“Yet it suits my mind. What would you have me say?”

“That you love me and will be my queen when this is over.”

“But I am no liar.”

“Nor am I, to say I love you.”

“I, however, cannot love you. So I will not.”

“All that keeps you is yourself, Ivona!”