"Padling"

 Excerpt From "The Last Kingdom: #1 Padling" 

His piercing gaze never strayed from my own. In his eyes, there was a light but also a darkness. I shivered. His silvery fur blew gently in the wind. 

I groaned and fell backward onto the soft grass. Through the haze of my blurry vision, I looked down at myself. I was wounded, badly. My gloved hands were drenched in my blood. 

I put my hand on my wolf as he laid down beside me. His beautiful pelt was soaked with red. 

“We failed,” I whispered solemnly.

“No.” The wolf said though it came from neither his own jaws nor mine, but a voice humming soothingly through my head like the sound of a thousand wing beats, “You have not failed. Neither have I.” He laid his big fluffy head down on my chest whining softly from the pain of his wounds, “We have just set in motion his path.”

“Then who is it?” I asked, “Who will succeed!?” I questioned again. 

It was becoming harder and harder to breathe. My sentence was broken into rasps, as each breath sent a chorus of grinding pains streaking through my chest, but I had to know. I’d fought until the very end, and now it seemed my turn was over, no matter how badly I wanted to see it through. But I knew I couldn’t, because he had what I didn’t, passion.  I heaved a labored breath of the warm air.

“We shall know him soon. We have set the example, and given hope.” The wolf replied, closing his eyes, “We shall meet again, Jayk.” Then I felt him grow cold. All the warmth faded from his body. I could feel his life slipping away from his mortal vessel. 

I clenched his fur with my fists. White-hot agony was burning through my chest. I choked for air. Tears slipped down my cheeks, “Sheenan.” I whispered through sobs. 

My companion. My friend. My good boy. He was gone. 

Then something came over me like a calming ripple through my body. It was time. Time to go. I breathed one last painful breath, taking in my last glimpse of this world. Then, I let myself go.

Jaygin 

Chapter One 

                            

           

Destiny had always confounded me. Fate sent my mind reeling. I didn’t know my purpose in this world, no matter how badly I wanted to understand. Most could say they were the son of a lowly farmer; others, a slave to the noblemen of Tluthundra. Some could even say, the son of the great duke in the land. But Ime? I was a son to nobody; no one still alive, that is. While he lived, my father was no craftsman, no farmer, no slave, and he had no job. I was the heir to nothing. My hope rested in nothing. I lived for now, and that’s all.

The crowded streets of Cathendraal were bustling with people. I ducked and maneuvered through the throngs of people, wedging in between the conversing groups. 

It was to be expected that Cathendraal would be this busy given how close it was to the capital of the kingdom Tluthundra; Arkinan. 

I was glad to have an empty canvas bag slung over my shoulder. With the heavy, tightly packed metal-work I usually received, it would have been nearly impossible to get through the city.

I was coming back from delivering an order for one of his customers. I worked for an armory in the city with my older brother, Ephir. He had taken an apprenticeship with the master blacksmith there, and I was their errand boy. It wasn’t a bad job, nor was it a good one, but it got my siblings and me enough money to survive. 

Or at least it had, until my 14-year-old twin sister, Linny, came down with a devastating illness. The cost of remedies and herbs to heal her had dried up nearly all our resources and now we were making just enough to keep all three of us alive. 

I stumbled into the small room of the shop, which was still cluttered with an abundance of tools. Shutting the door behind me, the familiar smokey scent of burning wood and coal surged up my nostrils, coupled with the sharp twang of scorching hot iron.  A cloud of smoke blasted in my face, making me choke.

A gruff voice to my right, hollered over the hissing steam, “Busy, eh, boy?”

I swiveled my head around to meet the master blacksmith's gaze with his coal smudged face and leather apron. He hammered away, the clanging noise of steel clashing against iron reverberated around in my head, making my brain rattle. 

I stood there just studying the ax head he was making before I nodded wearily and gave him my report. “Your clients were pleased with your work, Sir.”

“He’d better be,” he snorted, not looking up from his work. “There’ll be no refunds.”

He turned and plunged the ax head into a basin filled with water. The blazing iron hissed, submerged in water, which sent up clouds of steam that wafted around the room. 

Dropping the bag beside the door, I wiped the dust and grime off my face with the back of my hand.

He gave me a harsh glance. Then roared over the hissing steam, “Your brother’s been waitin’ for you. Better not keep him any longer.”

I turned and staggered toward a door on the left.

“Don’t forget,” he growled, raising his voice, “Captain’s expectin’ his order by sundown!”

I nodded and continued to the door. It creaked as it opened up to another small work room. 

In the corner,  my brother was beating on a slab of metal with his hammer. I assumed he’d just started on this one not too long ago because this one had less form to it than the Master Blacksmith’s. He looked up as soon as the door screeched open. I smiled at him as he set his hammer aside. 

“Jaygin!” he half grinned, his smile forced.

Ephir had always been quite the optimist; it wouldn’t have surprised me to see him cracking jokes at a funeral. Recent events had depleted him. He was tired all the time. The big rings under his emerald green eyes had grown significantly more significant since I saw him last.

He ran a hand through his coal-black hair, brushing from his eyes the strands that sweat had plastered to his face. Despite being only sixteen, he had a sturdy build from being a smith’s apprentice. 

He always tried to act happy, but I knew he wasn’t. I could see the faint shadow of dispair in his gaze, no matter how deep he tried to bury it. He was worried, as I was, about Linny. We couldn’t afford medicine for her, and she got worse every day. She insisted she was completely fine, but we both knew Linny just didn’t want us to worry.

Ephir tromped over to me, untying his leather apron from around his waist. He tossed it onto the table with his hammer. 

“Did Sir Cowin approve of Master’s stirrups?” he inquired as he slumped back onto a chair.

“Sir Cowin?” I asked. Sir Cowin was the head bodyguard to a family of nobles that lived on an estate in Cathendraal. “That’s who the saddle was for?”

Ephir nodded and smirked, putting his hands behind his head and propping his feet up on a small table. With an incredulous tone he asked, “You didn’t recognize him?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” I replied, sitting myself down in a chair across from him. I would have recognized him anywhere, “I guess he sent a servant to pick it up for him.”

Ephir nodded, “Wouldn’t it be amazing…?” He breathed.

“What?” I asked, confused.

He looked at me, “To be a knight,” he said at last, “And not just any knight!” He leaned forward, so suddenly, it startled me, “To be a Tluth knight!”

I frowned.

He must’ve noticed my expression, “What’s wrong?” he questioned, perplexed.

“Why?” I asked. “Why would you want to do that? Do you know just how many people those knights have killed? You really want to be like that?”

“Do you know how many people have tried to kill him?” he replied a little too harshly. “It’s not just about killing, Jay.” He looked at me intently. “It’s about honor and protecting those who need it.”

He stood up and sauntered back to his apron and hammer and began working again.

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. I didn’t understand how someone would want to do that. The thought of war was scary. To think about how many people there would slaughter you without a moment's hesitation! How could you kill someone else like that? Knowing that that person was just like you, just trying to protect themselves, maybe their families, and their king and kingdom. To be the one responsible for the loss of a father, a husband, even a son, I knew that could never be me.

Glancing out the window, I wondered if there weren’t so many buildings in the way, if I’d have been able to see the capital city, Arkinan. Maybe even a single spire of the king’s castle. The castle which was fortified so heavily, it caused me to wonder… why? It may have been I was crazy, but I didn’t trust our king. Perhaps, it was that I was overly paranoid. Ephir always told me that I was. Just something about how the king conquered every nation surrounding us with such vigor gave me the feeling he was scared about something. Something so strong that not even he could stop it. I shook my head and stood. 

“How’s Linny?” I asked to draw my attention away from my thoughts.

Ephir had gone home to check on her while I was gone. He sighed deeply and shrugged slightly. His lack of words made me nervous. Linny was so strong, but this illness had sapped every ounce of strength from her. I nodded and stood there, watching him work. He pounded on the steel, gradually giving it shape and form. Eventually, I could tell it was a short sword. 

“Who’s it for?” I probed.

He glanced up and then quickly returned to his work, “Me.”

I was shocked, “Master Blacksmith is letting you make your own weapon?”

He shrugged again, but I saw his lips twitch at a smirk, “I’m well on my way to being a full-fledged smith. I can do some things by myself, can’t I?” His eyes twinkled mischievously.

I sighed, “You’re going to get a beating if he finds out, y’know.”

“Well, you're not telling him, so how will he find out?” He retorted.

I looked at him in exasperation, ”Do you know how loud---”

He cut me off. “Relax, Jaygin!” he said, rolling his eyes. “He thinks I’m working on that,” he pointed to where another finished short sword lay. “He doesn’t know it’s finished, though.” He returned to his project.

At this point, I decided to run my next order to Captain Harinks. I didn’t want to be anywhere near Ephir when he got caught. I knew Master Blacksmith probably wouldn’t believe I was an innocent bystander.

“If…” I stopped and corrected myself, “When you get caught, Ephir...” I paused to make sure he was listening. He was. And glaring right at me, too. “Just make sure he doesn’t lower your pay.” I couldn’t stand to think about how we would get by without Ephir’s pay. I hope you know what you're doing, I thought.

He waved his hand dismissively and once again returned to hammering his sword.

 

—————————— 

When I arrived at the landmark Master Blacksmith had described to me, I found a short, stubby-looking man waiting for me. I’d just passed a small pasture outside of the city where the Captain and Master Blacksmith had agreed for me to bring the order.

The servant standing there was surprisingly well dressed, in much more elaborate clothing than the sackcloth most servants garbed in these days. His dark cloak seemed to be made of linen, finer than I had seen in a long time. 

He must be from a wealthy estate. I thought.

That was until a small brown head peeked around the man's head. 

I stopped in my tracks, staring in surprise as a petite monkey crawled out and made its way to perch on the man's right shoulder. It kept staring at me with a gaze that told me it was unsure whether I was a friend or foe. 

A slight glimmer dragged my attention away from the animal. Peeling my eyes away from the creature, I found the hilt of a sword jutting out from the cloak the knight wore draped over his shoulders. On the pommel of the blade, there was engraved into it the head of a ferocious beast. It was the king’s animal, Gargnold. 

What kind of creature Gargnold was, was unknown. The king had bonded with the beast in the same way as some of his knights. Just as this knight in front of me. They were called the Tluth. They were knights, bonded with animals with whom they fought alongside in combat. The bond between man and beast was almost magical. It was said that each knew the other’s thoughts and every move. That’s how they fought so well together. The animals, just like the bond, weren’t normal either though, they were special. 

I didn’t realize Captain Harinks was a Tluth…  until now. 

At this point, the small monkey had made up its mind that I could not be trusted. It began baring it’s tiny fangs at me as I sat there gawking. My breath caught in my throat as I was sucked back into reality. I swallowed hard and took a step back.

Captain Harinks reached up to scratch the monkey, “Calm now Sala,” he said, continuing to stroke the monkey gently with a hand, “That my order?” He thrust a finger at the crate I was holding.

“Y-yeah,” I stammered. I didn’t want to go anywhere near this guy. 

I’d heard many things about the Tluth. They were fierce warriors. Ephir talked all the time how they were some of the most powerful people in the land. He’d always said how they were loyal to their king and protected all the people. Somehow I didn’t quite believe him, and I knew I wasn’t the only one. Recently a farmer had gone missing, and I’d heard rumors about how the farmer had refused to give his farm to the king, and by order from the king’s own lips, the Tluth came in the night and murdered him in his own house. 

It's just a rumor. I told myself. People twisted words all the time; this was nothing that I should fear.

Captain Harinks raised his thick brows, giving me an odd look, his mouth turned into a frown slightly. I grit my teeth and slowly hedged towards him. My stomach felt like it was all tangled up in several knots. I thought about making a run for it, but the beating I’d receive from the master blacksmith later wouldn’t be worth the try. 

I passed him the crate, which he hefted onto his shoulder like it weighed nothing at all. He grunted his thanks and ambled away. I watched him go with his head high and his monkey sitting on his shoulder. The animal kept looking back at me, curiously with its big brown eyes. 

My heart feeling like it might pound its way out of my chest; I waited until both were out of sight. Then, I started my trek home. Back to the small shack in the outskirts of Cathendraal, which had been passed down to me, Ephir, and Linny after our parents died.

I walked down the familiar streets of the city as the two suns sank low in the sky. The vendors were all packing up their wares. Only a few people still roamed the streets.

I made several turns through alleyways and broad streets. A few carriages rattled past me on the roads. I, at last, made it to the door of our house. 

Even through the wood plank walls of the cabin, I could hear Linny coughing. I felt a sharp pang in my chest like someone had just stabbed me—a dagger of helplessness, which drove its way through my chest until I could barely breathe. But, there was nothing I could do for her.

I opened the door slowly.

“Jaygin?” Linny said softly.

I stepped through the door, “It’s me,” I replied. 

I looked around and saw her sitting lying in the corner of the room on a thin mattress. She was sitting on it, slumped against the wall. I looked her up and down. Powerless was only scraping the surface of how I felt about this. She didn’t look any better at all. Her face was ashen and green eyes that once glittered with happiness and shone like stars were dull. Her already feeble body was so scrawny; it looked like she might snap in half any second. 

“I hate when you do that,” she mumbled angrily, her cheeks reddening slightly. She looked back down at a book she’d been looking at so as to avoid my gaze.

“Do what?” I asked.

She glanced up at me, “You always have that stupid look on your face when you look at me.” She paused briefly as she pursed her lips into a thin line. Then she replied in a stiff voice, “I’m just a little sick, not weak Jay, I’m fine.”

I opened my mouth to argue. Linny wasn’t okay, she and I both knew that, but she shot me a scowl from over the top of her book, silently daring me to disagree with her. I sighed, “Sorry.”

It was awkward for a moment as we stared in silence at each other from across the room. Then I saw what book she was reading; Mother’s diary. 

Linny must’ve seen the recognition in my gaze because she looked at me, her eyes filled with sorrow as she set the book aside, “I miss her,” she whispered, “Father too.”

“Me too.” My voice cracked with emotion. I swallowed hard, and my eyes started to burn as they brimmed with tears. I looked out a window to the right, so she wouldn’t see me swipe a hand quickly over my eyes. 

Neither of us knew what had happened to either of them. Mother used to work at the castle. She was one of the prince’s handmaids until the prince mysteriously disappeared almost thirteen years ago when Linny and I were only babies. The people of Tluthundra called him, “The Lost Prince.” Nobody knew what had happened. That very same week, Mother had disappeared. All the king would say regarding her death was that she'd caught a terrible fever and died that same day. 

I was only a baby, so I didn’t know, much less remember what was going on, but I could still feel the pain. I grew up in a home without a mother and the remnants of a broken family. A family that might have been happier if our mother hadn’t been torn from us. 

In all my years growing up, one thing I remembered distinctly about my father was that he wrote many, many letters. Letters pleading and begging the king, the knights, anyone, to tell him what happened to his wife. But no one said a word. 

My father despised the king. I could only assume it was because of his lack of response. He wrote hundreds of letters all to no avail. Father was heartbroken. He wasn’t the same man after that. I hadn’t known Mother all that long, but I knew that Father loved her very much. He raised us all for eleven years. But one night our father went out late in the evening. He didn’t come back all that night. In the morning, one of the neighbors had come over to tell us that our father had disappeared. After several weeks of waiting, we all had to assume that our father was dead. Ephir had been keen on finding vengeance after, yet again another parent was stolen from him. Ever since then, Ephir had wanted to be a knight. He tried to be strong enough, so when the day came that he found Father’s killer, he could face him and “return the favor” as he always put it. 

I was so lost in recounting those events that it startled me slightly when Linny finally broke the haunting silence.

“Jay… do you… think that maybe…” She stared at the wall behind me. Her brows began to knit together, and her face scrunched up like she always did when she was thinking hard about something but was nervous about sharing the information.

I stared at her intently, curious about what she was going to say. “Do I think what?” I said, urging her to finish what she was saying.

She met my gaze, clearly thinking out loud. “Do you think Mother might’ve had something to do with the missing prince?”

I exhaled sharply, “Linny you’re not suggesting tha-“ 

“No, no!” She interrupted quickly, “Of course not. Mother would have never killed or taken him with bad intent!” She paused, “But what if she took him… for a reason.”

I stared at my sister, aghast. Why was she even bringing up the possibility of our Mother doing such a thing?

“Linny,” I said a little hoarsely, “Why on earth would you- ”

She cut me off again, “Don’t you dare think for a second Jay that I’m slandering Mother’s name!” She glowered at me intensely, her eyes narrowing into lethal slits.

I decided it was time to drop the conversation before it got too out of hand, so I changed the subject. “Ephir’s going to be home soon. I’d better find us some dinner.” I offered her a small smile to try to lighten the mood.

She just huffed and returned to her book without saying so much as a single word.