The Runaway King

His eyes darkened, and I saw in them a thirst for blood. My blood. “Don’t worry about Jaron. We’ll get him too, very soon.”



Anger filled me and I wasn’t taking it well. If I was going to act, this was my moment. And yet something held me back. The sweat on my palms made it difficult to hold the sword, and I switched it to my right hand.



Devlin smiled. “Perhaps you can use that weapon. Then why not strike me? Earlier, you said you might, to avenge what I did to that priest.”



Heat bristled across my body as I glared at Devlin. He was baiting me for a fight he clearly wanted. So why couldn’t I do it? Wasn’t this why I’d come to the pirates, for this exact purpose? Whatever I might do, he deserved it. And yet I felt weaker than ever, as though I was incapable of doing the one thing that might save my country.



Devlin crouched down and picked up a handful of rocks on the beach. He flung one at me, hitting me in the shoulder. “Maybe Agor was right,” he said, tossing another rock at my chest. “You’re no swordsman. You’re a thief only because you’ve got no ability to be anything better. Untying knots is a nice trick, but it won’t put bread in either your mouth or mine.”



Then he flung another rock at me, this one much harder, and it stung the cut on my stomach. “Do you think you’re better than the rest of us? Better than me? Now fight!” And he threw the rest of the rocks at me. I ducked to miss the one headed for my face, but it got my cheek anyway.



I raised my sword, finally ready to strike. In response, he planted his feet forward, his face tense with rage. I looked into his black eyes and suddenly realized there was nothing beyond that. No humanity, no love, and no soul. Except for his anger, he was completely empty. It was much of the same anger that I had felt for far too long, and it horrified me.



Since the night I was attacked, I had been so angry, so determined that there was no other choice but to destroy the pirates. But if that choice meant I’d become anything like Devlin, I had to find another way to win. It wasn’t that I couldn’t strike him. It’s that I wouldn’t. I refused to become him.



Wordlessly, I lowered my sword and started to leave. But Devlin grabbed my arm, twisted me around, and yanked me close to him. I stumbled in the sand and bumped roughly against him. Then he said, “That cave had better be full of treasure, because if it’s not, making you a pirate was the worst mistake of my life. You are utterly worthless. I just gave you every opportunity to use that sword, and you didn’t have the courage to try. Not even against an unarmed man.”



With that, he threw me down on the beach and started to walk away. “You weren’t unarmed,” I muttered, standing again.



“Huh?” He turned and saw in my hand a small knife that had been tucked inside his pants at his waist. I’d pulled it out when I bumped against him. Devlin’s face reddened.



“You hoped I’d try something with my sword so you could use this knife against me,” I said, tossing it on the sand near him. “Nice try, but I’m a pirate now. I’m one of you.”



“If you were really a pirate, you’d never have given that back,” Devlin said.



“I want the knife that belongs to me,” I said. “Not this inferior toy you’re using.” And with that I began walking away.



“Sage!” Devlin cried.



I turned in time to see him hurl the knife at me. Instinctively I raised my sword, using the flat side of the blade to deflect the knife away. It shot to the right and landed in a patch of tall grass.



Devlin locked eyes with me and his smile darkened. “So you can use a sword after all. But you won’t yet. What are you saving it for?”



I hesitated for just a moment before I said, “I am better than you, Devlin. And I’m saving this sword until it’s time for everyone else to understand that too.”



He let me leave, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d have to pay for those words.



On my way back to the main part of camp, I spied Imogen near a clump of trees. She was kneeling on the ground planting a patch of daisies, and frowned when she looked up and saw me.



“You look upset,” she said. “What happened down there?”



“Time is running out. For both of us.”



She motioned me toward her and I sighed. I’d have preferred to be alone until I’d calmed down, but I never could refuse her requests, and especially not here.



“Someone might see us,” I said, glancing around. There were others in the area, but at least nobody was nearby.



“Come here, then.” I followed her down a small hill to where the trees and slope provided good protection from any casual observation. She pulled a raw potato from a pocket of her apron, and then gestured for me to sit beside her, which I did. “The burn from that branding iron can be painful.”



I made a face. “A potato?”



“Hush. Show me your arm.” I held out the arm that had been branded. Imogen supported the back of my hand and rotated my wrist so she could see the burn better. “Does it hurt?”



“I’m fine.”



“Of course you are. They could break your bones in half and you’d tell me that’s fine too.” Then she let my arm rest in her lap while she cut away some of the peel from the potato.



Imogen next sliced the potato into thin strips and laid them over the burn. Almost instantly, they started to pull the heat from my arm. When she finished laying the strips down, she set the knife and the rest of the potato on the ground. She put one hand under my wrist and the other beneath my elbow, keeping the potato slices balanced.



We sat that way in silence for several minutes. I didn’t want to speak and shatter our delicate peace. I’d either make things worse or finally convince her to leave. And I was ashamed to realize a part of me didn’t want to succeed in making her go. There was a comfort in having someone on my side in this miserable place.



“I saw you and Devlin down on the beach,” she finally said. “He was taunting you.”



“It was a test.”



“You’re still here, so you must have passed.”



“I didn’t. I doubt there’s any way to pass his tests.”



Imogen began adjusting the strips, moving cooler ones onto the burn and dropping the others on the ground. “I thought you were going to fight him. Even from where I stood it was obvious you wanted to.”



“Yes, I did.” I still wanted to, in fact.



“You can’t bring the pirates down, Jaron.”



“I know.”



“Which means our only choice is to escape this place. We can run from here tonight, you and me. There’s no shame in that.”



“Run?” Irritated, I shook the strips off my arm, then stood and picked up my sword. “Tell me why you knew I had another reason for leaving the castle last week. Do you recall that?”



A single tear rolled down Imogen’s cheek before she answered. “It was because you don’t run. Not even when it’s the only logical thing to do.”



“No,” I snapped. “Never.” And I started to walk away.



“Jaron, there’s more.” Before I had turned around, she stood and added, “I overheard Devlin talking. Roden’s coming. He’s expected sometime tomorrow.”