by Jones, Heath
“What do we do now?” I ask, ignoring Jarryd’s fulsome praise of me.
“We have to assume the others are still alive,” he says. “When you’re ready, we’ll walk to Malikaran. We’ll find the others there.”
“I’ll be ready to walk in the morning,” I say, ignoring the pain in my chest as I try to sit up.
“Of course you will,” Jarryd says, the half-smile returning to his lips. After placing a few more branches on the fire, he lies down next to me. “Get some sleep, Sara.”
I awake the next morning feeling a little better. Walking is possible, but difficult, and pain flares through my shoulder whenever I move it. I need to examine my wounds to see how bad they are. The river is only a short walk away, and I wash my hands before removing the bandages. I’m surprised how clean the wounds in my shoulder and chest are; there’s no swelling or leakage around the edges - there doesn’t seem to be an infection. Jarryd has done a remarkable job in patching me back up. But then the uneasy realisation hits me… my clothes are torn, both from the fighting and from Jarryd’s need to tend to my wounds. My cheeks grow hot at the thought of how much of me he might have seen. I glance over my shoulder to see if he is watching me now, but thankfully I’m alone. Part of me though, wishes I wasn’t, and I’m ashamed of that. He is Aveline’s treasure, I remind myself.
When I return, Jarryd is clearing away the remains of the fire, covering any sign that we had been here. “You still look pale,” he says.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
He watches me carefully for a long moment, before finally nodding his head. “Alright. Let’s go.”
I’m indignant. He was assessing my condition, deciding if I really am well enough to walk. “I don’t need your permission,” I tell him flatly. Ignoring the pain from my wounds, I set off.
“Sara,” Jarryd calls, catching up to me. “It’s my job to look after you, remember?”
“What if I don’t want you to?” I shoot back. “I can decide for myself what I’m well enough to do.”
“Fine. Then can I at least tell you you’re going the wrong direction?”
“What?” I ask.
“I don’t know what side of the river you think we’re on,” he says, “but Malikaran is that way.” He points back the way we had come, trying, I’m sure, not to smile.
Furious, I spin around and stalk off. Towards Malikaran. A barely concealed chuckle reaches my ears and I round on Jarryd, but his face is a mask of perfect innocence.
“Lead on,” he says sweetly.
It’s all I can do to not put a knife in his ribs.
We think it should only be a three-day walk to Malikaran. Neither of us has been there, but so long as we follow the Serat River it will lead us to Tigranik’s city.
Initially, we walk in silence. I’m still mad at Jarryd, and he seems happy enough to keep to himself. Gradually though, as our first day of walking wears on, we begin to talk. Mostly about inconsequential things at first. Slowly though, we begin to talk about friends we have left behind, things we used to enjoy doing before the Peace Bringers destroyed our homes. I’m surprised when Jarryd tells me he loves to sing.
“I wouldn’t say I am very good,” he says, “but I enjoy it. And Aveline always found it soothing.”
Aveline again. I can tell he’s been trying not to mention her name, but sometimes, like now, it slips out. It also dampens our conversation, and we walk on again in awkward silence.
Our pace slows as the day wears on. My injuries have drained my strength and it is an effort to keep walking. But I refuse to show Jarryd my weariness, so I grit my teeth and continue to place one foot in front of the other.
The forest along the river’s edge teems with edible flora. In our time in the Daishen Forest, Karam taught us much. Not only about plants to kill and heal, but also about what we can eat. We know which mushrooms are poisonous, and which are a great source of nutrition. From plants to leaves, roots to berries, natural food is abundant when you know what to look for. Foraging here is easy and, despite my growing fatigue, makes this trek much less onerous than the one from Farley. And it gives us something else to talk about.
“Do you know what happened to your family?” I ask after we have picked a handful of mushrooms.
“No,” he replies, his voice tinged with sadness. “I didn’t have any brothers, only two sisters. They didn’t make it to Tolos, so they are probably dead, just like my parents. My father may still be alive, but if he is, he has been forced to join the emperor’s army.”
The way he says it, so matter of fact, troubles me. “Is that all you can say?” I burst out. “Aren’t you angry? Don’t you want revenge for what happened to them?”
He is quiet for a moment, reflective. “Yes, I’m angry. I’m sad, bitter, and there’s a hole inside my heart that the emperor has ripped out. But revenge won’t change any of that. As for the bitterness – the only thing that will change is me. And not for the better.” He looks at me intently. “I will always grieve the loss of my family, but I can’t change it, so I’m trying to accept it. Life has to go on, Sara.”
“I know,” I reply. But moving on won’t bring my family back. Or end the war.
For our camp that night we choose a small clearing within sight of the river, but far enough away not to be seen by the passing ships. Jarryd comes back from the river carrying a bundle of branches. Surely he’s not thinking of building a fire? We’d be spotted by every ship on the Serat River!
“We’re too close to the river and Malikaran for a fire,” he says, dropping the branches at my feet. “We want to stay hidden, after all.”
My jaw drops. Does Jarryd think he can read my mind? Seeing my reaction, his half-smile returns.
“If you crumple a few of those ferns on top of some branches, it makes a serviceable pillow. It won’t be the most comfortable you’ve ever slept on, but…”
In spite of myself, I smile at his thoughtfulness. “I’ll get some ferns for us.”
Lying back on our makeshift pillows – the ferns really do make the branches, if not comfortable, at least usable – my thoughts turn to Malikaran.
“Do you think the others are in Malikaran now?” I ask.
“I’m guessing they would have spent some time cleaning up the ship before continuing,” Jarryd replies, “but yes, they will be there by now.”
“Will they wait for us?” I wonder out loud.
Jarryd is silent for a moment. “I don’t know. After seeing you go overboard with a knife in your chest, I thought you were as good as dead. They may believe we are both dead.”
My heart misses a beat as his words remind me again how great a risk he took in saving me. And how much he must care for me to take that risk. But looking across at him, staring up into the night sky, I see the pain in his eyes. He isn’t thinking of me like I am of him. He’s thinking of Aveline again, of the anguish she must be feeling believing him to be dead.
“Then they’ll be trying to get a permit,” I say, attempting to steer the conversation away from thoughts of Aveline.
“Probably,” Jarryd replies absently.
I can tell he’s not in the mood to talk, so I roll over and try to lose myself in sleep.
We rise early the next day and set off just after sunrise. My strength is slowly returning, and I find the walk pleasant. Jarryd grows more talkative as the day progresses. It is as though, after all our time together, he’s growing more at ease around me. He even tells the occasional joke.
Jarryd is such a stark contrast to Dain. I miss a step and nearly trip, shocked that I would even make the comparison. Jarryd looks at me, and I’m sure he’s about to ask if I’m alright, but my glare keeps him silent.
I haven’t given Dain much thought for a while, and I am surprised to be thinking of him now. One of my best friends growing up, he was always more confident, stronger, and faster than the rest of us, as well as being a natural leader. I looked up to him with awe, trying to emulate his abilities in my own way. He
was handsome, and I felt… I’ve always been attracted to him.
Jarryd, on the other hand, would never stand out in a crowd. He’s thin, awkward, and quiet. Outwardly, there’s nothing remarkable about him at all. He couldn’t complete even one of Storm’s tasks, something that I excelled at. Yet… yet… Jarryd would never win a fight against anyone, but he is perceptive enough to heal others when they have been hurt. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. He knows who and what he is, and he is comfortable in himself. There is strength in him, but of a different kind to Dain’s. He is steadfast and dependable as a rock. And he is Aveline’s. That last thought drives me into a dark silence.
We choose our perch for the night on a small hilltop again looking down over the river. This close to Malikaran the river is busy with ships, and we sit and watch as their lights float up and down the river.
“What do you think we’ll find in Malikaran?” I ask.
“Hopefully our friends,” Jarryd replies, with his now-familiar half-smile that lets me know he is joking.
“Apart from them,” I say.
He sighs, taking a moment before answering. This also has become familiar to me, as I’ve learned that he doesn’t like to speak without thinking first. “I don’t know,” he finally admits. “Before Tolos, I’d only ever lived in Coream. Tolos is the largest city I’ve ever been in, but apparently it pales in comparison with Malikaran.” He looks at me with an expression I can only call apprehensive. “I’m worried I won’t be prepared.”
“Prepared for what?” I ask.
“That’s just it,” Jarryd replies, “I don’t know what I need to be prepared for. Karam taught me so many things, including to expect the unexpected. But that was all out in the forest where no one’s life was at stake. It will be different in Malikaran. Everyone’s life is at stake.”
He stares back out over the river, and I feel like I understand him more than ever. He is feeling the burden of keeping us alive, and it weighs down on him like a blacksmith’s anvil. Reaching out my hand, I am about to place it on his shoulder when I realise – he is thinking of Aveline, and of keeping her alive.
I drop my hand just as he turns his face back towards me. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he whispers.
I’m so stunned I can’t speak. Did he really just say that? His eyes are looking right into my own, and I know he meant what he said. Excitement dances in my stomach. Not knowing what I am doing, I lean in towards him, ever so slightly, parting my lips.
“I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have spoken.” He stands up and walks away.
“Jarryd,” I call out, but he vanishes into the darkness.
I stare after him. Conflicting emotions roil like a tempest within me. Joy like I’ve not known before battles with foreboding guilt. I never suspected Jarryd had feelings for me, or that someone of his… worth, ever would. He does, though, and it thrills me. But then I’m beset with guilt. Aveline has become my friend and I’m betraying her. My burgeoning feelings toward Jarryd were only that – mine, hidden deep where no one can see. I never had any intention of making them known – why would I, when I assumed they would not be returned? But now…
I don’t even know if Aveline is still alive. I hope she is – I want her to be. She must be! And with that desire, I know what I must do.
The next morning, we walk in awkward silence. Jarryd only returned to our hilltop camp late last night and immediately lay down to sleep. I pretended to already be asleep. So now we make our way to Malikaran with a growing distance between us.
The sun shines brightly overhead as we trek through what I hope are the last few miles of forest before Malikaran. Below us, the Serat River grows more congested with ships with each passing mile.
“We shouldn’t be too far away,” Jarryd says, breaking the morning long silence.
“Hopefully not,” I reply. I want to say more – much more – but words fail me.
After following the climbing ground higher for the last hour, we finally reach the top of a ridge, and an uninterrupted view opens out before us. All the way to Malikaran.
Even though Storm had described Malikaran to us, I still never imagined a city could be so enormous. Malikaran sits on the far side of the Serat River, on a corner where the river bends nearly at right angles to the north. The ships in the harbour fronting the river look like tiny specks in comparison with the city beyond. The red walls surrounding the city must be a mile long in every direction – two miles even. Inside those walls is an impressive array of buildings both large and small, towers, belfry’s, enormous domed roofs, even circular buildings with pointed roofs! There seems no order to the layout of the city, it is all a chaotic mess, infused with a riot of colour. As large as the city is, it is dwarfed by the immensity of the Albar Plain beyond, an unbroken grassland stretching to the horizon in all directions.
Then, just as Karam described, I see the city within the city - the Royal District of Malikaran. It too is surrounded by a wall, which, unlike the one surrounding Malikaran, is surprisingly green. Even from this distance, I can see a clear space surrounding the wall of the Royal District, isolating it from the rest of the city. In contrast to the rest of the city, everything inside those inner walls appears ordered and neat. The streets in the Royal District radiate out, like spokes on a wheel, from the large, fortress-like building in the centre. Tigranik’s palace.
“It’s breathtaking,” Jarryd says.
All I can do is nod my head. But we’re not quite there yet. The forest we are in descends gradually to the river. There, on the corner of the river, is a fortress facing the city on the opposite bank. Its impregnable looking grey stone bulk stands ready to both protect this side of the river and prevent access to Malikaran on the other.
“How do we cross?” Jarryd asks.
“Follow me,” I reply, a plan already forming in my mind.
Retreating deeper into the forest, we gather thick branches, lashing them together with vines to build a small raft. Approaching the river, we wait until dark has fallen before launching out across the river, beyond the sight of the guards in the fortress. Paddling across the river in darkness keeps us concealed, but it is also dangerous. Steering our way as best we can away from oncoming ships, we head slowly towards the far shore. We are almost out of the busy channel of the river when a huge ship bears down on us. Jarryd and I paddle for our lives, barely avoiding being run down. The waves from the ship’s wake nearly swamp us, but they also speed us towards the shore.
Pulling up our raft on the pebble-strewn shore, we dismantle it and scatter the branches amongst the trees. Then we lie down to sleep and wait for the dawn.
But I can’t sleep. Malikaran means Emperor Tigranik – he is the sole reason for my journey. My family are dead at the hand of the emperor. My friends are dead, captured, or missing, all at the hand of the emperor. My once simple, carefree life is also dead at the hand of the emperor. But just as my old life is gone, so I am no longer who I once was. I have new skills and a purpose to match. The war, the suffering, the devastation, will continue while ever the emperor lives. And I’m finally within sight of his royal city.
As the sun rises, a small smile works its way onto my face. “Let’s get moving,” I say.
I have an emperor to kill.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Malikaran, the royal city of Emperor Tigranik. It is like nothing I have ever experienced before.
After being thoroughly searched at the gates to ensure we have no weapons on us, we are allowed to pass into the city. The teeming crowds bursting Tolos to its seams are as nothing compared to the multitudes in this city. The majority are Malikaran locals. Dressed mostly in long, loose linen pants and tunics, they bustle about the city with an air of industry about them. Scattered amongst them are merchants and travellers that must have come from every corner in the world. The sheer diversity of people astounds me, the shades of their skin varying from dark to brown to pale white. Bri
ght, voluminous robes mingle with drab, tan animal skins or leather jerkins and patchwork pants. Some of the women are so scandalously dressed that my cheeks burn looking at them. Jarryd catching me staring open-mouthed at a woman wearing… almost nothing, and laughs.
A loud, incessant buzz fills my ears. From merchants crying their wares to hawkers haggling their prices, from wagons rumbling down the streets to horses neighing at the pedestrians in their way, to the snatches of conversation forever drifting past me, the noise is like a physical force. It is tiring enough trying to sift out one sound from the next, let alone identifying which noises could be a threat. How can anyone cope in this city?
For all its crowds, Malikaran is nowhere near as jam-packed as Tolos. This city is just so… big. It is on an entirely different scale to Tolos. A person could easily be lost in this massive, sprawling city. Yet the streets are wide, the cobblestones even. It is also unbelievably clean. The largest, most populous city in the world, is also the cleanest I have seen. My experience of cities is limited, but I had imagined them to be dirtier than this. Even the alleys are larger and brighter than those I’m used to.
Above all, the thing that has surprised me the most so far, is that the city seems peaceful. Wherever we have walked, whether through crowded main streets or the comparatively dimly lit alleys, there has been no sign of crime. No one calling out for help, no feeling of being watched, nothing. This is the city of a tyrant who has conquered nation after nation. I had imagined his people to be downtrodden, bickering, and fighting amongst themselves and anybody they brush shoulders with. The city may be a hectic, bizarre warren of mayhem, but it is full of peaceful people. True, Peace Bringers are everywhere throughout the parts of the city we have wandered. But even though their studious eyes seem to take in everything and anything, they are idle. There is no peace for them to bring – it is already here.
