The Battle for Astodia

by Maryam Durrani

  Lance walked in, grinning, holding a tray of food in his hands. He shut the door behind him with his foot and quickly came towards me.

  “Kristina, guess what?” he said, sliding the tray towards me. “Sorry; this is all we have. We’re running low on supplies but we’ll be getting a shipment in a few days.”

  The tray had a loaf of warm bread, fresh cheese and a cup of milk. On the side were some grapes and little cookies.

  I smiled. “It’s alright. Thank you.” It was certainly not as glamorous as the feasts we had every day at the castle, but I would survive. “What happened?” I quickly asked, eager to find out.

  “I spoke to our leader and managed to talk her into keeping you here. I tried to get her to trust you, and she gave in, but be careful. If you make even the slightest mistake and someone suspects you, you will be thrown out without question.” He sighed, running a hand through his brown hair. “It’s only because we’ve had so many spies all over the place. One second they’re your closest, most trusted friend, and the next second you’ve got a knife sticking out of your back.”

  “I know how it feels,” I nodded agreeably, breaking off a chunk of bread and taking a bite. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. “Want some?” I offered him a piece, which he politely refused until I grabbed his hand and put it in his palm. “You look hungry too.”

  He blushed but accepted it, taking a bite.

  “So, what’s it like here?” I asked, trying to make conversation.

  “Not that bad, really,” he shrugged. “Everyone is so caring. We’re like a big family—you’ll fit right in.”

  “So why are you resisting?”

  “Resisting? Good question.” He pursed his lips. “The king and his taxes. If we’re unable to pay, he closes our businesses. Half the people here were found on the streets, hungry. The Leaders then founded this rebel army, and here we are. If you’re not happy with what he’s doing, you come here. He’s a cold man. He killed so many of our families . . . so many of us.”

  “Of you? How come?”

  “I don’t know how he does it, but as soon as one of our leaders leave one of our bases, we don’t hear from them for a day. That’s when we know they’re gone. Now, we only have three main leaders.”

  “Really? He’s that bad? I didn’t even know about this.”

  I gulped down my bread, suddenly feeling a darkness inside me; like I’d just realized it was there. It wasn’t the king who was behind the killings. Or maybe it was, indirectly. But all these murders were my doing. I’d killed everyone, and here I was, sitting in front of this boy who might’ve lost a loved one by my hand and didn’t even know. I hoped to feel something thinking about this. Regret. Sorrow, maybe. Guilt. But all I felt was interest. “Have you lost anyone?”

  “Not me,” he shook his head miserably, “But many here have. And we haven’t even done anything to the king. We went out for a protest a few weeks ago, but we lost more than half of the protesters to the king. He killed them, sending his guards.” He tugged on a strand of his hair. “The king’s too frightened of us,” he said, his eyes suddenly vicious. “He wants us all dead. He can’t bear to think that someone doesn’t agree with him. I think it’s cowardly.”

  This was treason.

  I had a sudden urge to grab and shake him, tell him who I really was and then burn this whole place down, but then I realized it wouldn’t give me answers. The chance of one of the leaders getting away and hiding forever was too high. The chances of losing Xavier were too vast.

  “As do I,” I agreed. “But,” I broke off a piece of cheese, handing it to him, “You have leaders now, right?” I asked, taking a sip of the milk.

  “Yes, we do. They control everything. There used to be one in each of our bases, but after our last leader died, we decided that we couldn’t afford any more losses. So now, it’s just the three that we carry messages to and from through the tunnels.”

  “Why stay here?” I asked. “I mean, the king has hurt many but what makes you think you’ll be safer here?”

  He smiled, rolling his eyes. “We’re a group. A family. We know the consequences, but we choose to stick together. If one of us dies, we all know they died protecting his or her family. They’d die peacefully.”

  “How did you find these tunnels?” I pressed. I wanted to see how far I could go without him suspecting.

  “There were two main people who started this whole underground thing. They were married, believe it or not. They had one of these passages in their house. The man went to explore it and found out that they were all from the underground mining system one of the past kings had created for gold, ages ago. That’s how it started.” He stretched his back as if story-telling had made him tired. “They had a child, who was probably killed by the king as well.” He sighed sadly.

  I furrowed my eyebrows. “Aside from all that, it sounds to me like you don’t know what you’re fighting for.”

  “What?” he asked, lowering his piece of cheese from his lips, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’m not one to judge,” I waved my hand, “But you see, you can’t answer me correctly. I asked why you were resisting and you replied that the king is shutting you all down because of taxes. The taxes are fine. I mean, to me. They’re not too high, but not low. I don’t see how that’s such a huge problem.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “Why have you come here again?”

  Oh, no. I’d slipped.

  “I told you. I stole, and he sent his people after me . . . and

  he took my sister.”

  He bit his lip as if thinking for a second.

  The truth dawned on me. “Oh no,” I whispered, horrified. “You don’t trust me anymore, do you?”

  “I—” he hesitated.

  “No, no, it’s fine.” I quickly got up, sliding the tray with half-eaten food towards him. “I’m sorry, I should leave. I shouldn’t be here.” I grabbed a bag, stuffing my clothes inside it.

  “Wait, Kristina—”

  “Look, Lance,” I said softly, resting a hand on the side of his arm, “I can’t stay somewhere I’m not welcome. If I’m a problem, I’ll leave.” I pulled on my cloak and made my way to the door, limping. Was I making a mistake?

  Would he call me back?

  I closed the door behind me, achingly slow, and a feeling crept over me. What if he didn’t call me back? I wouldn’t get the antidote, and I wouldn’t be able to save Xavier.

  I’d fail the mission.

  As I reached the stairs, preparing to head down, the door swung open, much to my relief.

  “Kristina,” Lance’s voice called out. “Wait.”

  I turned around to face him.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted like that.” He pulled my arm, turning me around to face him. “Won’t you stay?”

  “Nobody trusts me here,” I said, lip quivering. “It’s alright.”

  He reached for my hand. “Please stay.”

  I raised my eyebrows, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

  Lance blanched, and then bright red spots appeared on his

  cheeks. “I don’t want you to get caught out there. The king is

  merciless, and your sister can get hurt as well.”

  My shoulders slumped, and I sighed deeply, giving in.

  “If you say so,” I gave him a nod, victorious.

  NINE

  “This is Joseph,” Lance said, dragging me along as I shied away from everyone behind him.

  He was big, burly, hairy—

  “He was a butcher before he came here because the royal guards burned down his meat shop after Joseph told them he didn’t have enough money for taxes. He’s from outside the gates. This is Demetria.” Lance led me to a girl whose hair was done in a thick fishtail braid down her back.

  The girl glanced at Lance.

  “Hello Demetria,” I greeted.

  “Hello. How long will you stay? Or are you just here for the food? Free shelter, maybe?”

  “De
metria. . .” Lance warned, and pulled me away, lowering his voice. “She thinks she’s so great just because she’s a good fighter. I’m the only one she can’t defeat.”

  But can you defeat me?

  I followed him around as he introduced me to everybody.

  “This is Darren.” He gestured towards a golden-haired boy that was reasonably good-looking, with blue eyes and an earnest smile. Next was Aland, a brown-haired boy with soft hazel eyes. Sitting next to them was Charlotte, the redhead.

  Soon later came many adults and a sweet woman with a kind smile named Anna, and a newlywed couple. There were a few rude ones also, but I managed just fine.

  “And this is our crew,” he concluded, ending the tour back at my room. “Do you like it? The place?” he grinned. “The people?”

  “Of course,” I laughed. “What do you think?”

  I think this is a waste of time.

  “I think everyone is glad to have you here,” Lance grinned. “So, what do you want to do now?”

  “I’m not sure,” I shrugged. “Is the tour over?” I was hoping to get some information about the antidotes and poisons, but he didn’t mention anything about an infirmary.

  “Yeah,” he nodded, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “What am I going to do here?” I asked, tiredly. “I mean, who knows how long I’m going to stay? I have nothing to do. How will I pass the time?” I added a small whine to my voice.

  “Do you fight?” he asked. Not the answer I was looking for.

  “Yes, but I’m not really interested in fighting.” My shoulders drooped. Did the whining not help? Did I look like some strong, muscular man to him who liked sword-fighting?

  “So you can’t fight?”

  “Of course I can,” I snapped. Catching myself, I smoothed out my voice. “What I mean is . . . I can. My father thought me, but I’m not that great,” I covered up modestly.

  He laughed. “Are you sure? You don’t seem too skillful to me.”

  “What?” I said, taken aback. “You’re very frank, I see.”

  “You were almost trampled by your horse.” He bit back a smile.

  “Something spooked him. That has nothing to do with me being a weakling.”

  “You couldn’t control him.”

  “I’m strong enough to hurt you.”

  “You’re a girl.”

  My jaw dropped and I stared at him, aghast. “Excuse me? A girl? That is not an insult.”

  He was asking for a broken nose.

  “Prove it.” And then I realized he was only teasing me.

  “Alright,” I smirked, “come here, and I’ll show you what a girl can do.” He walked over to me, standing still.

  I drew back my fist and punched him in the shoulder. He moved an inch, and then laughed out loud. “Is that all you’ve got?”

  “Harder?” I grinned, curling my hands into strong fists. I punched him firmly, and this time he stepped back.

  “Tough, but not tough enough. Are you done?” he asked casually, unfazed. Then, he rubbed his shoulder. I snickered.

  “Aw, have I hurt you?” I crooned, leaning against the bedpost.

  “No, it was just itching a bit.” He wrinkled his nose. “Is there a fly in here . . . ?”

  I rubbed my hands together. “Alright, come here,” I said, straightening his shoulders. “Stand tall. My father showed me this,” I lied.

  “You may try, but you aren’t going to hurt me.”

  “Right,” I rolled my eyes, stepping back. I pulled back my fist to my waist, taking in a deep breath and focusing all of my

  strength in one arm. With one small step, I let my fist fly.

  It cracked against his shoulder, and Lance staggered back, letting out an oof! He gripped his shoulder in shock, wincing every time he moved it. “Did you really just—” He couldn’t complete his sentence, utterly bewildered.

  “Here, let me teach you,” I said, motioning for him to come closer. “It’s not that hard.” I walked towards him, grabbing his arms, and told him to make fists. Then I brought them down to waist level, fingers faced upward. “Bend your knees. Separate your legs a little.” I tapped his knees to show him. He did as he was told, and then I commanded him to focus all his energy into one arm. “Forget the other one.”

  He did as he was told, and then I told him to punch me.

  “No,” he got up, annoyed. “Why would I punch you?”

  “Because I’m training you,” I claimed. “Get back down.”

  “But you’ll get hurt,” he said.

  “Lance. Get back down, or next time my fist will find your nose.”

  He rolled his eyes and went back into fighting position. “Alright, but just don’t cry when you find yourself on the floor.”

  “Punch,” I ordered.

  He let his fist go, hitting my shoulder this time, but I didn’t move. “Really?”

  Frustrated, he repeated the same step, hitting my other shoulder.

  “No, Lance,” I sighed, “focus your energy on the one hand. All of your power should be here.” I pointed at his fist. He nodded, took a deep breath, and punched. I was thrown off balance. “Whoa,” I laughed, on my back, my elbows propping me up. “That was great.”

  “Thank you. You okay?”

  “Fine.” I grabbed his hand as he pulled me up. “Want me to teach you how to kick?”

  After he left, I lay on my bed, tired. I’d been having so much fun training Lance I’d forgotten about Xavier, which deeply depressed me. Xavier was dying, far away, and I was sitting here laughing and having fun with this . . . boy. But what annoyed me so much more was that after he left, I realized one thing. I had been laughing. I had fun.

  And I wasn’t acting.

  “I don’t want to practice!” I pulled my arm from Lance’s grip. He was laughing at me. “Leave me alone.”

  “Kristina, you have to. Everyone here does. They’ll set you up with a good teacher. You’re so good, you could be a teacher.” He wasn’t supposed to know that, and it irked me when I thought about how carried away I’d gotten the day before. It had felt so good to show off for once—with Xavier, I was always learning, never teaching.

  “But why are you forcing me?” I backed away from him.

  “You’re a brilliant fighter! What are you so afraid of?” he persisted. No one could see me fight. If they did, they’d figure out I was no ordinary person in the snap of a finger. People here couldn’t be as blind as Lance.

  “We need people like you. Don’t let me down.”

  I swatted his arm.

  “Stop it.”

  “Alright, alright. It’s just that I’ve never seen anyone act this way before. You’re so. . . .”

  “What?” I crossed my arms over my chest, scowling.

  “Childish?” he mused.

  “I’m not childish. It’s just that everyone has their fears,

  and I happen to have two.” I turned up my nose.

  “If I stay with you, will you be alright? Because if you

  want to stay here you’ll have to follow the rules.”

  I thought over this. I’d have to fake quite a bit. “I’m not as good as you think I am. I might be strong, but I can’t fight.”

  “Let’s see about that.” He offered me his hand, and I braced myself. I was not going to have a pleasant time.

  “You’re partnered with Demetria,” the instructor said to me. “She’ll teach you what you need to know.”

  Just my luck. I knew that Demetria had whispered something to him before class started, and she definitely wanted to hurt me. I could see it the way she smiled coldly at me, her eyes narrowed. I smirked.

  She must’ve felt threatened by me.

  “You may begin.”

  I walked over to Demetria, feeling painstakingly bored. “Here you go.”

  She tossed me a sword, which I was careful not to hold properly. It was too light for me anyway. The sword from the queen was the only one I coul
d use flawlessly.

  She laughed out loud. “Look here, the new girl can’t even hold a sword!”

  I was enjoying every moment of this. “You’re Demetria, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right. You’ve heard of me, then.” It was a statement, like she had expected it, as if everyone was supposed to know her.

  Then, I saw her do something peculiar. With a quick flick of her eyes, she scanned the training grounds, looking for someone. Someone in particular, and I knew who it was the moment her eyes stopped.

  Lance was watching us closely from afar, twirling a knife

  in his hand, his eyes curious, as if he really wanted to see what happened next.

  When Demetria looked back at me, she was scowling.

  “What were you looking at?” I brushed a lock of hair behind my ear.

  “None of your business,” she said a little too loudly.

  That was one of the many advantages of being an assassin. You were trained to capture every detail. Her eyes moved quickly, in a matter of seconds, but I caught on immediately.

  “Lance?” I snorted. “Really?”

  A furious blush appeared upon her cheeks. “That’s it. Get your sword ready.” She was mad. Good thing, too, because the best thing that could take down even the most professional fighters was their own anger.

  I picked it up. She attacked, and I dodged. “You’re supposed to be teaching!” I pointed out as my head was almost severed from my body.

  “Nothing can get through your head,” she snarled, doing an uppercut. I stumbled back and kicked her knees, taking it slow. She hit my head with the base of the hilt, and I dropped to the ground, defeated. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lance approach us.

  “Demetria, what have you done?” he asked, holding his arm out to help me up. I took it, getting to my feet and feigning dizziness.

  “I did what we were instructed to do. Let go of her so we can go another round.”

  “It’s okay, Lance,” I shrugged him off. “I’m fine,” I said,

  though my head was throbbing where she had hit it.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, and I nodded. Then I faced Demetria as he watched us, backing up. I waited until she made the first move. I pivoted around her. She was getting angrier by the second. She whipped around, slicing at my legs. I jumped over it. She went for my neck and I ducked quickly, causing her to trip over her own feet, falling. I kicked the sword out of her hand and with one quick movement I grabbed the hilt and held it to her throat.