The Fallen Kings

by P D Atkerson

  “Brody? How did you get in here?!” Aroron whispered, grabbing the bars between them. “I thought… well, I thought you were someone here to kill me. Hopefully I was wrong.” He said, flashing a nervous smile.

  Brody laughed. “You really think I’d risk my neck coming all the way down here, just to kill you?”

  “You never know.” Aroron said, shrugging. “How did you get in here, anyways?”

  “You don’t need to worry about that.” He said, sliding a key into the lock. “Nor do you need to wonder where I got this key, either.” Brody said, flashing a smile. “How about we get out of here, and then you can ask all your questions?”

  Aroron flinched, as the door squeaked open. Luckily, there weren’t any other prisoners nearby to hear the sound. “Alright, I’ll trust you.” He said. “Since you did come all the way down here.”

  “Come on!” Brody said, motioning Aroron out of the cell. “We don’t have all day. Or do you want to stay here and see what happens?”

  Aroron just rolled his eyes and stepped out of his cell. “Can we just go already?”

  “Alright, this way.” He said, motioning with his head back the way he’d come. But before he did, he handed Aroron a sword. His sword.

  “How…?” Aroron asked, grabbing the blade from Brody.

  “That’s a story for when we’re out of here.” He said, heading down the corridor before Aroron could ask anything else.

  “Hunter’s dead.” Aroron whispered, following Brody down the corridor as they carefully avoided the other cells with prisoners. “He died saving my life.”

  “I know.” Brody said, without slowing his pace at all. “I saw the whole thing, though, not even Hunter knew I was there.”

  “Then why are you here, if he didn’t send you?”

  This time Brody did stop walking. “I came here to help you, you goon.” He said, shaking his head. “You really are slow some times!”

  “But… I don’t understand.” Aroron said, frowning. “You don’t even like me, why would you risk your life to help me, if it wasn’t an order?”

  “I’ve never had a problem with you, Aroron.” Brody said, motioning for Aroron to follow him down another corridor. “I just didn’t know who you were, and I was just doing what I was told to do.”

  “You mean take my gift? Or kill me?”

  He glanced back at Aroron. “Yes.” Then Brody turned away again, and led Aroron down another corridor. It was like a labyrinth down there! With corridor, after corridor, after corridor.

  “How about we start over?” Aroron offered.

  Brody stopped and held out his hand to him. “Deal.” He said, flashing him a smile. “Though, I have a feeling you’re a trouble maker.”

  Aroron shrugged. “Not on purpose.”

  Laughing, Brody was about to say something, when they heard something back the way they’d come. Even though they were no longer close to Aroron’s cell, they could clearly hear the guards’ yells, when they found it empty.

  “Um… I think we’d better get going.” Brody said, stepping backwards and away from the sound. “This way, hurry. We probably don’t have much time before word spreads.”

  Oddly enough, Brody seemed to know his way around the underbelly of the Palace. He went down corridor after corridor, without seeming to hesitate. Moving faster with every step. Never even bothering to look around him. How did he know his way so well?

  They turned another corner and both stopped short.

  Four warriors stood before them, blocking their path. Swords drawn, masks pulled down. “Well, what do we have here? Did you not like our accommodations, Aroron?” the one nearest to them said. “It’s better than the cell your father had!”

  Aroron knew the warrior’s voice, too well. “Kant.” He hissed the name. “So, you’re following Enrick's orders now too?”

  Kant shrugged. “He is our king. I always follow my king’s orders, unlike you Normels!”

  Normel? So, Kant was still in the dark about who Aroron really was. Not that it mattered, Aroron planned on killing the Draven! “I’m sick of meeting you, Kant.” Aroron said. “Today, I end you.”

  Aroron leapt forwards, and in a flash, his sword collided with Kant’s. They both twisted their swords and collided again. “We’ve fought before Aroron, yet you still think you can beat me?”

  “You have nothing to threaten me with this time. Or did you forget, that’s the only reason I didn’t kill you when last we met?” Aroron said, bring his sword to bare upon Kant’s again. “You’re a murder and a thief, without a spine, who follows orders blindly.”

  “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done with my eyes wide open!” Kant scoffed. “Including killing Lord Tort for helping you escape. I enjoyed it so much, almost as much as Shon. I wonder how many of your little friends I’ve had a hand in killing? I’ve lost count.”

  “I’ve had enough of your foul speech!” Aroron yelled, slashing his sword at Kant, who was just barely able to deflect the blows. Soon, the warrior found himself in full retreat. Rage and sorrow fueled Aroron with renewed strength.

  Kant sneered at Aroron and laughed. “How’s your side? I hope my knife went deep!” he spat. “And it left a scar to remind you of that day, since your blade gave me such a gift!”

  “What the heck are you talking about?!” Aroron spat, batting Kant’s sword away again as they both took a step down the corridor.

  Within a matter of seconds, he had Kant pressed up against the wall, but still the warrior didn’t relent. They fought fiercely against each other, until their swords were locked in an ‘x’ against Kant’s chest.

  Kant’s sword was the only thing keeping Aroron’s blade from giving him a certain death. “What are you going to do now, Aroron?” he asked. “This is all that you’ve got?”

  “You haven’t even seen a hint of what I can do!” Aroron’s eyes flashed white, and his blade began to glow. Heat seeping from it, into Kant’s sword. The warrior swore, but he didn’t let up. Not until the metal of his armor began to sizzle.

  “Cursed blade.” Kant spat, shoving back against Aroron. “Can you fight on your own? Or do you have to cheat?”

  “Cheat?” Aroron repeated. “Is that the best you’ve got? Coward!” he spat, as Kant’s sword began to bow. “You deserve nothing more than a slow and painful death!” All Aroron could think about anymore, was killing this Draven, once and for all! His eyes flashed white again, as he pressed his blade harder against Kant.

  “Aroron!” Brody yelled, breaking into his thoughts. “He’s not worth it! You kill him for vengeance, and it will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

  “He’s right.” Kant whispered, chuckling to himself. “You’re too weak to kill me, just like your father!”

  Brody was right. But this monster wasn’t! “Fool! Shon wasn’t my father.” Aroron said, just as two more warriors came at him. He shoved himself off Kant and gripped his blade with both hands. “I’m the son of a king!” with that, a blast of wind shot out from Aroron and threw the warriors across the ground, slamming into the hard stone wall, jarring them to the bone. “And I won’t stoop to your level.”

  With one last moan, Kant lifted up his head and looked at Aroron. “This isn’t over.” He mumbled, his eyes sliding closed as he slumped back against the floor.

  Aroron took a step forwards and swayed. “I don’t think I can do that again.” He said, fighting to stay standing. It was the first time he’d used his gift on purpose before, and already he was regretting it.

  He felt sick and dizzy, much like he had back in the Dark Castle, when he used his gift against Munay in the throne room. He stumbled and nearly fell.

  Quickly, Brody grabbed his arm and steadied him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I… I think I will be.” Aroron said, shaking himself. “I haven’t done much with my gifts.”

  “You’re not suppressing your gift are you?” Brody asked, frowning. “Because, if you are, you might hurt yourself.”

/>   Aroron shook his head. “I wouldn’t know how, if I wanted to. I’d just rather fight the old fashioned way.” He said, leaning back against the wall. Unlike when his gift seemed to kick in when he needed them most, when Aroron chose to use them, it seemed to suck the energy right out of him. “Besides, those stupid gifts are draining!”

  Brody laughed. “It gets easier the more you use them.” He said. “Come on, I know you don’t want to, but we need to keep moving. I highly doubt these are the only warriors sent after us.”

  Aroron nodded. “Yes, sir.” He said, shoving himself off the wall and back onto his feet.

  Brody turned away and hurried down the hallway. Not even bothering to check to see if Aroron was following him.

  With one last glance towards Kant, Aroron dashed to catch up with Brody.

  It wasn’t long after, Aroron looked around and nearly lost track of Brody, who’d stopped short and turned sharply to their right, hurrying down a hall that looked more like a round tunnel. Aroron hadn’t seen it until they were upon it, but Brody seemed to know it was there the whole time.

  “Can you please slow down?” Aroron asked. “You do remember that I don’t feel so well?”

  “Stop being such a big baby.” Brody said, with a snort. “I think we’re almost there anyways.”

  “Yeah, hopefully without any more mishaps.” Aroron mumbled under his breath. The second the words left his mouth, he knew he’d spoken too soon. There, standing at the end of the corridor, was Captain Mormare. Sword drawn and glaring.

  “Well, well, well, Aroron. Trying to escape…?” Mormare's voice trailed off, as he stared at them. “Brody?” he whispered, staring at the boy, his jaw agape. “Is that really you?” Mormare asked, his voice barely choking the words out as his sword slowly started to slide towards the ground.

  “What are you doing down here?” Brody mumbled. “Shouldn’t you be upstairs? Guarding something?” The captain seemed to ignore the jab at him.

  “I was told Aroron had escaped.” Mormare said, but he hardly acted like he even realized he was speaking, as he continued to stare at Brody. “I just can’t believe it’s really you. After all this time.”

  Aroron glanced from one to the other. “You know each other?”

  Slowly, Brody nodded. “He’s my father.” he whispered, dropping his gaze. For a long moment, none of them said anything.

  “I thought you were Karlien!” Aroron said. Wasn’t he a Karlien rebel? This was almost too crazy to believe. But now that he thought about it, they did look a lot alike. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Because, he hadn’t thought to look at them that way before.

  “I… I thought you were dead.” Mormare whispered, the tip of his sword dropping towards the ground. “But instead you've been in… Karlay? Of all places! It’s a cursed kingdom.”

  “Yeah.” Brody said, ducking his head. “I know you think that. That’s why I went there, I knew you’d never go there.”

  “Why?” Mormare asked, his face contracting in pain. “Did your mother and I not lose enough when Rhody died?”

  “It’s my fault she died!” Brody snapped. “That’s why. Can't you see that?!”

  “Brody…” Mormare said, shaking his head as he took a step forwards. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I’m an Oddity, dad.” Brody said, shrinking back from his father. “She died because of me. It was my fault she… died.”

  “What happened to her was an accident, no one was to blame.” Mormare said, firmly. “It wasn’t your fault, anymore than it was anyone else’s.”

  “I hate to break this up, but don’t we need to keep going?” Aroron asked, he could hear the sound of the Zilladien guard coming nearer. “If we don’t leave now, we’re both doomed.” He said, grabbing Brody’s arm. “We need to go, now!”

  He nodded. “You’re right. You need to get out of here. Go down this corridor for about a hundred feet, then take the next two rights.” Brody told him, as he drew his sword. “You should be able to find your way from there.”

  “Aren’t you coming?” Aroron asked, frowning at him.

  Brody shook his head and took a step back from him and back the way they’d come. “No, you’re going to have to go on your own from here. This is where our paths split.”

  “What? Why?” Aroron asked. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to be left alone again. “You’re going to get yourself killed, if you stay here.”

  “I’m a Shenockien, Aroron.” Brody said, shoving him forwards. “I’ve got a better chance of surviving this than you do. Besides, you’ve got someone waiting for you in the camps in the lower town, Lady Orana. Now, go, while I hold these Vrecks off for as long as I can.”

  Mormare nodded and gripped his sword tightly with both hands, as he moved to stand next to his son. “And I’ll help him.”

  Brody looked at him. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know what’s going on.”

  Mormare shrugged. “I don’t need to know what’s going on, I trust you. We’ll hold them off together.”

  For the first time since Aroron had met him, Brody truly smiled. “Together.” He said, holding his hands up. As he did, the metal gauntlets that were his gift, wrapped around his fists.

  “I can't leave you, not after you came here for me.” Aroron said.

  “Go!” Brody ordered, his face set. Aroron knew it was no use arguing with him. He’d already made up his mind. “I didn’t come all this way for you to get caught again, and no matter what, don’t come back for me. Swear to me?!”

  “Fine! I swear.” Aroron whispered.

  “You’d better get out of here, or I’ll kill you myself.” Brody said. “Understood?”

  Aroron couldn’t help but smile at that. He hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. Good luck, and may we meet again.” He spun around and bolted down the corridor.

  He turned down the last corridor, a heavy weight fell upon him. He felt like he was betraying Brody because of this.

  The second he was outside, he shot down the nearest street and into the covering it offered him. It wasn’t long after, he was lost deep inside the city. As he ran, Aroron said a silent prayer that Enrick wouldn’t kill Brody and his father just because they’d helped him. Enough people had died because of him.

  * * *

  Chapter 30

  Messages

  The moment the messenger was done speaking, Enrick screamed in anger. Quickly drawing his sword, he slashed through the curtains in front of him. Then with another fit of rage, he slammed the blade down into the wood table in front of him and left it there bobbing.

  Enrick’s chest burned with anger. Aroron was out of his grasp, again! Maybe he was more like his father than he’d thought. After all, he seemed to fail at killing Aroron as much as Munay had.

  But one way or another, he would see to that job himself. He wouldn’t allow anyone else that pleasure. He’d kill the ‘Elhor’ (as Dasety had started to call him). Enrick liked it better than the name of his once best friend. The Elhor was not his Friend and he was going to enjoy every second of killing him.

  He was the only thing that stood between Enrick and the High Throne.

  When the time came though, Enrick knew that thought would be the only thing that could help him finish the Elhor off, once they were face to face.

  He sighed. Knowing that he had to kill someone he knew so well, to finally gain complete control of the realm.

  And the fact that his father had also escaped while he was gone, didn’t help things.

  Enrick wouldn’t even have known of it, if it wasn’t for one of the ambitious warriors who’d rode overnight, from the Dark Castle to Shey, to inform him. If the warrior’s story was trustworthy, then someone inside the castle helped him escape, and that made Enrick’s blood boil!

  He was surrounded by betrayal. Who was left that he could still trust? That question weighed on him. By becoming king, he’d lost the luxury of trust, now he had to expect everyone to stab him in the back.
r />   The Elhor and Munay were both out of his grasp, because he’d trusted they’d stay in their cells. He’d had enough of that! From then on, he would no longer keep prisoners, but would kill them where they stood. That would stop the escapes. Enrick thought to himself.

  The messenger from the dungeon said that, 'the Elhor had help from a boy and Captain Mormare.' Who was this boy? And why had Mormare turned on Shey so easily? Enrick was starting to wonder if any of the Shenockiens could be trusted, even with the treaty. They still thought, foolishly, that he wasn’t ruler of this city and the kingdom. But it was his, as would the rest of the realm be.

  He shouldn’t expect loyalty from the Shenockiens when he didn’t even have it from some of his own men!

  Finally, Enrick pulled himself out of his deep thoughts and let out a long sigh. He wasn’t going to just stand there and do nothing.

  “Tell Telarian I wish to speak to him.” Enrick said, finally breaking the silence, as he turned towards the warrior standing next to the wall. “What are you waiting for? Go and get him!”

  “But my lord, he’s in his chambers and…” Marlon started.

  “Did I ask where he was? Bring him to me, now!” Enrick snapped, cutting the boy off before he could finish. “Burn it! I don’t care where he is, just bring him here!”

  Marlon’s face paled, as he quickly nodded and bowed. “Yes, my lord.” With that he spun on his heels and hurried out of the room, the throne room doors slamming loudly closed behind him.

  As he watched him leave, Enrick was sure he no doubt wished he was still the only Karlien in the Palace. But Aroron had ruined that for him long before Enrick had arrived. If it wasn’t for Dasety, Marlon would never have become part of the Palace household in the first place.

  Not that any of that mattered.

  What Marlon thought meant less than nothing to Enrick. After all, he was the king, and didn’t need to bother himself with what his men thought. If Marlon had a problem, he’d better keep it to himself.

  A gentle knock echoed through the room, before one of the side doors slid open, and a young girl stepped in, carrying a platter of food. She bowed to Enrick, the second she saw him. “My lord, I thought you might need something to eat.”