Blood of the King - Khirro's Journey Book 1 Page 0,102
roots and not touch the bare earth. He found a sturdy looking branch and extended it toward the man, but it didn’t reach. As he pulled it back looking for a place to stand closer, he heard voices. His companions had arrived.
“Don’t come any closer,” he said as Elyea came into view. She halted immediately, eyes fixed on the unusual scene before her. “It’s quickearth. Careful where you walk.”
The others came through the trees behind Elyea. She stopped them where she stood and passed on Khirro’s warning.
“What is going on here, Khirro?” Athryn asked, his flesh colored mask giving the illusion he had an elongated, drooping face.
“These men are trapped in quickearth. I’m going to try and get them out.”
“Use your head,” Shyn called. “Why would Erechanian soldiers be here if not to find you?”
The branch Khirro reached out toward the bound man wavered in the open air between them. The man glanced over his shoulder, then back at Khirro. A line of sweat glistened on his brow.
“Well?” Khirro asked holding the branch beyond the man’s reach.
“I don’t know who you are.” The man shook his head too enthusiastically. “Please, just get me out.”
“He’s a liar, Khirro,” Ghaul said. “Leave him for the birds.” He looked at Shyn, snorting a laugh in his direction.
Khirro’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Tell me why you’re here and I’ll help you.”
The man’s face drooped. He looked at his comrade buried to his neck, then to the man whose entrails were spilled on the ground.
“Therrador sent us to find the man who assassinated king Braymon. But I don’t care about that now. I want to live. I’d gladly turn a blind eye, even on an assassin, if only you’ll help me. I’d—”
The arrow pierced his throat, cutting his plea short with a fine spattering of blood spraying across the ground. The loamy soil gobbled it up as the soldier slumped forward like a rag doll. Khirro looked past him at Ghaul holding his bow at arm’s length, the string empty. He lowered it and their eyes met; Khirro said nothing.
“They were looking for us.” Ghaul shrugged. “I guess they found us.”
He nocked arrows for each of the others, regardless of whether alive or dead. Khirro averted his eyes when the arrows penetrated throats or eyes or temple. He knew this was a warrior’s way of being humane, but he still didn’t want to watch, nor did he protest as he might have. He knew what Ghaul would say.
“They would have killed us if they came upon us,” Elyea said coming to his side. “Besides, the earth would not have let them go. Now they won’t suffer.”
“Roots find no purchase in quickearth,” Athryn said taking the lead and skirting around the clearing cluttered with dead men. “If we stick to the trees, we should be all right.”
As a farmer, Khirro spent his life working with the earth beneath his feet, learned about different soil types, their unique properties and what crops each would support. He’d heard tales of animals, people, even entire towns swallowed by quickearth, but he discounted them in the same closed-minded way he disbelieved his mother’s bedtime stories. If this trek did nothing else, it made him a believer.
“So Therrador has taken control of the throne.” Shyn stepped over the trunk of a fallen birch. “And doesn’t want you to succeed.”
Khirro shook his head. “With the Shaman and the others dead, no one knows I carry the blood of the king.”
Ghaul laughed. “They may not know it’s you, but they know someone has it. And there’s no doubt they’re not coming to help. The one-eyed man was no common thief, he’d seen many battles, taken many lives.”
“And now Erechanian soldiers looking for an assassin.” Elyea added. “Someone knows we have the king’s blood.”
“And doesn’t want Braymon to come back,” Shyn finished for her.
Khirro looked at his feet as he walked. He didn’t like what they said but couldn’t argue their accusations. In the haunted land, enough things stood against him already, he didn’t need his own country attempting to thwart him, as well.
“But why?”
“The power of a crown can do strange things to a man’s mind,” Athryn said from ahead of them.
“You think Therrador...?”
Khirro couldn’t believe it. The stories of Braymon’s rise to power all told of Therrador’s role in securing him the crown. Why would he not want his friend back?
“Don’t be dim, Khirro,” Ghaul snorted. “Of course, Therrador. And likely a few generals, some politicians, the Vendarians, the Kanosee. A list