The Knight's Secret by Jeffrey Bardwell

Author:Jeffrey Bardwell [Bardwell, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9781943289103
Google: qs0oDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07C1NVBF8
Barnesnoble: B07C1NVBF8
Goodreads: 39790346
Publisher: Twigboat Press
Published: 2017-07-10T23:00:00+00:00

10. CORBIN, YEAR 198

The bar still retained a few late night patrons yawning over their cups as I walked through headquarters. Nobody spoke. Some raised their cups and a few wrinkled their noses as I passed. Some beckoned me to sit and drink, but I waved them away.

I was drunk on a more potent brew than the swill in those cups. I don't know how I managed to get Krag back to his stall. I think he led me there. My head thundered like the ground beneath a cavalry attack. Random thoughts charged through my mind, tossing my emotions everywhere like clods of dirt before other thoughts rushed by and stomped them into oblivion. I could hardly move with the knowledge roiling in my mind.

The weight of it sapped the strength from my legs. I stumbled through the corridors, dreading meeting anyone more coherent than me. Thank the gods, the dining hall was dark and empty. I cheered as I made my way slowly up the stairs by the dim light of the sconces hanging on the wall.

The alternating flame and shadow suited my mood. What had I just done? It was brilliant. It was stupid. It was heroic. It was inane. I glared at the flickering sconces, but they offered neither advice nor reproof. Saving Miranda wasn't good enough? Saving the regiment wasn't good enough? Now, I had to save every mage in the whole empire? I grabbed the sides of my skull and squeezed.

I wanted to curse, but I hardly knew any good ones. Foul language had been curiously absent from all the old stories. Two days among retired soldiers was a pale substitute for years of prime debauched living. I almost stumbled back to the drunks at the bar. Maybe they knew some good ones.

Couldn't do that, could I? I was Corbin Destrus and Corbin Destrus already knew every single naughty word. And he was going to rescue every single naughty mage. Shit. That was a good, filthy word. Grew up in a village, didn't I? I knew all about shit.

Kelsa muttered something in the back of my mind. I ignored her.

“What was I thinking making that stupid vow?” I asked the stones in the wall. “I'm a fake. I'm a pretender. I'm not a real hero.”

If you save the mages , Kelsa whispered, you will be. It is right and just work. It's a hero's work. I'm certain it's what . . . Grandfa would have done, but he didn't make that vow. You did in his stead. Would you back away from such an oath ?

“Corbin Destrus wouldn't,” I whispered, spitting on the floor as the enormity of my self-imposed task loomed over me, “but I'm not him. No matter what I say, no matter what I pretend . . .”

It's just a matter of scale. Save one mage, save all the mages, Kelsa argued. Take it in steps. Rescue the 110 th Mage Corps first. You were going to do that anyway. After that .

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