Broken Arrow (Darkened Destiny Saga Book 1)

by Azaria M. J. Durant

  An agonized scream rips through the trees from the direction of my companions. I fight my bonds furiously, but despite my efforts, they only tighten further.

  “Hold still, boy, or I’ll snap you in half!” the woman growls.

  “Alois, wait!” cries a familiar voice from behind me.

  Shocked, I try to turn about. But the ropes – that is, roots – hold me still.

  “What is it now?” demands the woman, who is apparently Alois.

  “Release him.”

  Her hand drops to her side and the roots disappear. I flop to the ground as gracefully as a dead fish.

  “Are you alright?” Banner asks, holding his hand out to me.

  I bring my face out of the leaves, and look up at him. His appearance is subtly different. No longer is he wearing his filthy street rags, but is wrapped in a shapeless grey robe akin to the one worn by Alois. All that’s left to signify his other life is the ratty eye patch over his eye, and the burns and bruises on the left side of his face from his skirmish with Zeldek in the alleyway. Yet he seems to have lost weight, and there is a sickness hanging about him.

  “I’m fine,” I say, taking his hand, which is wrapped in a grey bandage.

  He helps me to my feet. “Sorry about that. Alois oversees the security of the place. She’s a bit rough around the edges, but she has a good heart.”

  Alois growls.

  “I see that you managed to escape Gaiztoak,” he adds with a relieved, yet very tired, smile. “I’m impressed. That is a feat not many can boast of.”

  “I had help,” I say. “The ezixs are still after us, but we’re a few miles ahead of them.”

  He glances in the direction that we came from, his brow wrinkled with worry. “We’d better get you inside, then. Come with me. Quickly now!”

  He starts toward the ruined castle, but I don’t move.

  “Banner, where are my friends?”

  “They will be taken to safety as well,” he assures me. “They will be given sanctuary with us if the council deems them worthy.”

  “Worthy?” I echo.

  He nods. “Aye. The council will judge them according to what we know about them, and according to whom their loyalties lie. No need to worry. The council is reasonable.”

  Despite the assurance of his words, his tone relays uncertainty. But it’s better than nothing.

  I relent and start after him.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Alois says, holding up a strip of cloth.

  Banner glances back. “Oh, yes. That.” He turns back to me. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’re going to have to blindfold you. It is regulation.”

  My shoulders tense, but I nod my consent. He gestures to Alois, who pulls the cloth over my eyes and ties it behind my head. A hand grabs my wrist, and I am pulled after the rustling sound of Banner limping through the leaves. We have only taken a few steps when the air grows suddenly cool and damp, and there is an earthy smell to it. The ground beneath my feet becomes hard like rock, and I would think we’ve reached the fortress had it not been so far away before.

  The creaking of doors resounds through the air around me and the hand lets go of my wrist. Banner and Alois’s footsteps fade abruptly.

  I stop in my tracks.

  The doors click shut. I feel as if I am standing on the edge of a cliff and remain as still as a statue. I wait for instructions, but none come. A moment longer, then I reach up to take off my blindfold.

  “Come forward,” booms a familiar voice.

  I take a few faltering steps forward and stop. The blindfold is jerked from my face and I gasp, looking around. I stand alone in the middle of a bare hall crafted entirely of grey marble. Age clings to the walls, to the cracked ceiling, to the worn floor. There doesn’t seem to be an immediate source of light, yet it is just as light as it was outside, almost as if the stones themselves were illuminating the room. Two steps lead up to a dais at the head of the hall, on which there is set a half crescent of five stone thrones.

  The five thrones are filled by five figures dressed in the same dreary grey, shapeless robes. Three of them are men and two are women, and all of them look – in one way or another – as ancient and solemn as the hall around them. In the very centre throne is Ulmer, looking just as aged as before, and he is still wearing the bothersome headband. Banner sits in the throne to his right. To his left, the pointed face of Alois peers down at me from beneath the hood of her robes. As one, they appraise me with vaguely interested expressions, and a feeling of foreboding casts its shadow over me.

  “Welcome to Buentoak,” Banner says with a welcoming smile.

  “Brethren,” Ulmer says slowly, gesturing to me, “this is the child. The boy, Elroy, whom Banner has insisted on protecting for these past fifteen long years.” He speaks directly to me. “We have been expecting you for some time now.”

  The other four council members incline their heads in unison.

  I clear my throat. “Um, right then,” I say. “Where are my companions?”

  “They will arrive shortly,” Ulmer replies, resting his hands stiffly on the arms of his throne. “But first, we wish to speak with you. Alone.”

  I cross my arms uncomfortably. “What about?”

  “Your loyalties, of course,” Alois snaps.

  “Peace, Alois,” Ulmer says.

  “No need to spare the boy’s feelings, Ulmer,” Alois replies. “We would all thank you to say it plainly and be done with it!”

  Ulmer casts her a reproving look and addresses me once again. “As Alois has just suggested, we wish to fully understand your position on my brother’s proceedings in Gaiztoak, as well as to consider—”

  “You want to know whether or not I gave Zeldek my allegiance,” I cut in.

  There is an awkward pause.

  “Well,” Ulmer says hesitantly, “so that there is a complete understanding between us, yes. We would wish for you to clarify that for us.”

  I look from face to face. There is a look of unexplained reverence and understandable suspicion on every countenance.

  “I did not join him,” I say, and there is a general sigh of relief. “But that doesn’t mean that I am on your side either. I would rather be left out of whatever is going on – and that goes for all of it.”

  Disappointment replaces their relief in an instant.

  “Just our luck, isn’t it?” Alois says.

  “Alois,” Ulmer says warningly.

  “It doesn’t matter what he wants, does it? He has no choice in the matter!”

  “What matter?” I ask.

  “It’s nothing,” Banner says.

  Alois rises from her throne. “You must understand boy! We’re your only hope. Zeldek will continue to hunt you until you are either on his side or dead! You can’t fight him on your own!”

  “Mutila aukera du!” Ulmer shouts, and the room echoes with the sound. “Now sit down! You’re making a fool of yourself.”

  Stunned, Alois lowers herself back into her throne.

  There is another moment of silence, and then Ulmer speaks directly to me again. “There is one more thing I must know before I allow you to leave.”

  I wait.

  “Did he mark you?”

  I look up, startled, and instinctively clench my wounded fist. “What do you mean, ‘mark me’?”

  “I mean to say,” Ulmer clarifies, “that there is a mark of a dragon in chains on his signet ring. Did you receive this mark on your person in any way?”

  I swallow. Even Banner looks worried now, and all four of them observe me with distance.

  “No,” I lie. “But if he had, what would you do?”

  “There would be nothing we could do,” Ulmer says gravely. “You would already be too far gone for us to save.”

  Too far gone? What does he mean by that?

  He flicks his hand, and the door behind me begins to open.

  “Now,” he continues, “we will judge your friends.”

  I turn to the doo
r.

  Uri and Annalyn enter, led into the room by two more grey-robed guards. Their eyes are still blindfolded, but while Uri comes along quietly, Annalyn keeps trying to peek under hers. I wonder where Bellator is.

  She better not have gotten herself killed trying to fight them when they tried to capture her.

  “You can remove their blindfolds,” Ulmer says, and his order is quickly obeyed.

  They look about, blinking, and Uri’s mouth opens stupidly in wonder.

  “Ealdred, you’re safe!” Annalyn exclaims, relieved.

  Uri glares at me. “Why’s he here first?” he demands.

  “There’s no need for that, child,” Banner says good-humouredly.

  “And who d’you think you are?” Uri demands.

  “Uri,” I warn.

  “Oh, it’s alright,” Ulmer says, waving his hand dismissively. “They were both unwilling slaves in Zeldek’s household and so are worthy to receive our protection.” He nods to the guards. “Escort them to their rooms for the evening and give them whatever they ask for.”

  Banner’s eye twinkles as he adds, “Within reason.”

  They are both led right back out, while Uri protests that I should be coming with them. The doors close again behind them.

  “Sir,” I say, turning to Ulmer, “those weren’t all of my—”

  “Come now,” Ulmer interrupts, beckoning for me to come and stand between his and Banner’s thrones. “You will want to stand out of the way for this one.”

  I follow his directions, but I feel my heart sinking. I know what is about to happen.

  Sure enough, the doors swing open at his command, and Bellator is brought into the room.

  Chapter Seventeen

  N o, ‘brought’ isn’t the right word to describe how she makes her entrance. She is dragged.

  Two grey-robed guards haul her into the room by her arms, and she hangs limply between them. The jagged half of the broken arrow has been pulled from her shoulder, and her armour glistens with a renewed flow of blood. It drips in a trail behind her as they drag her toward the stairs. They throw her down at the foot of the steps and rip the bloodstained blindfold from her eyes. For a long moment, she doesn’t respond, and I think she might be unconscious. Then, slowly, she pushes herself to her knees and looks up at us.

  I gasp at the sight of her and quickly put my hand to my mouth to stifle it. Her face reminds me of a corpse. Her skin is beyond being pale; it’s grey. Her eyes have a dull, glassy look to them. Blood dribbles from her mouth and runs down her chin.

  Ulmer’s expression, however, is without pity as he rises from his throne. “Finally!” he says in a cold voice that booms throughout the hall. “After all of your efforts, you have finally evaded us for the last time, Bellator!”

  She blinks weakly, and her mouth twists into an unmistakable smirk. “And yet,” she says slowly, her words garbled, “I had to be in this state before you could finally catch me. Such a great achievement, isn’t it?”

  Ulmer’s face reveals nothing but disgust, and he looks at her as if she were some loathsome creature less than human. “There is no honour in a beast like you, and so none shall be used regarding you.”

  She counters his disgust with resentment. “If you think that you have bested me, go ahead and kill me. I warn you, I will put up one last fight!”

  “We will kill you,” he returns, clasping his hands behind his back, “for your crimes against Vaelhyrean-kind and for the wars you have waged against us at the command of your master!”

  She doesn’t try to deny the allegations. “If you want me to beg, you are wasting your time!” she spits.

  “Even if you did, it would make no difference. Just like those who were slain at your hands, you shall receive no mercy!”

  He sits back in his throne, a satisfied smile turning his lips. I can tell that he is taking great satisfaction in this, and the feeling of dislike already sparked within me grows still more.

  Bellator’s gaze shifts from him to me, and her smirk fades. “Hello, half-wit,” she says tiredly. “Come to watch the show?”

  My throat is dry and I make no attempt at answering. I know that she is a killer. I witnessed her kill at least a dozen ezixs on the Plains of Beldir, after all. But something about this all seems wrong.

  “Kill her,” Ulmer commands.

  One of the guards draws his sword and approaches her. Bellator presses both of her trembling hands against the floor, squeezing her eyes shut. The guard stops beside her and raises the sword above her head. She opens her eyes slowly, bravely, and looks at me again. There is no fear in her gaze.

  The sword begins to come down.

  “Stop!” I cry, and the guard does, the blade inches from Bellator’s neck. “For the love of Irla, just stop!”

  “What is it?” Ulmer asks, turning to me with a concerned frown.

  I step out from between the thrones, and back to the edge of the dais. “I can’t let you do this!” I say. “Whatever her past sins, she is the one who helped us escape from Gaiztoak in the first place. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her. I should think that a warm bed and care for her wounds is what is in order here, not execution!”

  Ulmer’s face remains stony. “Did you not hear that she has murdered our people?”

  “I can’t deny it,” I say slowly, formulating my words carefully. “But you said yourself that it was at the command of Zeldek. Perhaps she didn’t have a choice in the matter. Perhaps he forced her to do these things against her will.”

  “One always has a choice,” Ulmer replies, his voice cold and emotionless.

  “Not when Zeldek is involved!” I respond heatedly. “What kind of a choice does one have when forced to decide between being tortured until one submits to him, or merely submitting to him? You may think that one choice is more noble than the other, but what difference does it make if the end result is the same?” I take a deep breath as I look at each in turn, imploring for them to see reason. “I only just escaped having to make that choice, and it was because of the girl you are now trying to kill! The one whose blood will forever stain this ground if you murder her. Please, I beg you to spare her. If not for me, do it for your own consciences! And ask yourselves, if you were in her place, would you have been able to do any better? She did what she did to survive. You can’t judge her for that!”

  Three of the other council members lower their gazes, and Banner nods approvingly. Only Ulmer remains unmoved.

  “Please,” I continue, “I beg you, give her the same chance you would give yourself.”

  Silence reigns as my words fade in the echo of the room. Then Ulmer sets his jaw. “Step aside, boy. It is for your own good.”

  “No,” I say evenly.

  “Fine!” Ulmer nods to the man. “Proceed.”

  The man raises his sword again, and I act without thinking. I leap between him and Bellator, putting up my hands in front of me, palms facing outward. A transparent blue dome surrounds Bellator and me moments before the man’s sword hits it. There is a metallic clash followed by a swell of light that throws him back against the wall.

  Ulmer is on his feet again, his jaw dropping in shock.

  Banner stands up with a chuckle. “It seems he’s determined to protect her, brother,” he says, patting Ulmer on the shoulder. “Perhaps it would be wise if we took his advice for the time being. You must agree, if she is no longer under Zeldek’s control, the girl won’t be much of a threat to us any longer.”

  The two nameless council members agree with him, and at last, Ulmer relents. “Alright,” he says gruffly. “We will pardon her, for your sake, boy. But do not question our judgement again!”

  I make no promises.

  When I lower my hands, the blue shield disappears, and I kneel down beside her. Whatever notions I might have had of her thanking me, I am sorely wrong. She glares at me, however weakly it is, and as I put my arm around her to help her up, she hisses, “I had that under control.”

  “C
an’t you ever say thank you?” I mutter as she rises unsteadily to her feet.

  “Take them to their rooms and tend to their needs,” Ulmer orders, but his voice is monotonous now.

  “I’ll be checking on her frequently,” I say. “Don’t even think about harming her!”

  Ulmer sinks back into his throne with a grimace, and everyone but Banner looks very worried. As we leave the room, I hear him say cheerfully, “I mentioned that he had spirit, didn’t I?”

  The guards lead us down a stone corridor to a cold room that feels more like a cell than a bedroom. There is a low bed to the wall across from the door. I help Bellator to it. She lowers herself painfully onto the clean white sheets and rests her head on the pillow with a sigh. Relief washes over her face.

  I straighten up, but she grabs my arm.

  “Why didn’t you let me die?” she wheezes. “I would’ve if I were you! Then you wouldn’t have had to fulfill your end of the bargain. You would’ve been free!”

  My throat tightens. “Well, I’m not anything like you.”

  Her eyes flash, and she grabs my hand as I turn toward the door. The burn throbs and I gasp. Noticing, she pulls back the binding. Her eyes widen when she sees the brand and she almost bolts upright. With a hurried glance at the guards behind me, she pulls me closer with a frantic look.

  “When did you get that?” she hisses.

  “On our way out, when I stopped to help you.”

  Her jaw clenches. “I’d hoped I could get you away before he gave you his mark.” She reaches down and peels her blood-soaked glove from her left hand, thrusting it into my hands. “Put that on and keep it on!” She pulls off the other and gives it to me too. “Don’t let them see the brand.”

  I glance back at the guards, but they don’t seem to be paying us any mind. I lean closer. “Why not? What is it?”

  “It’s Zeldek’s mark of ownership,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “He gives it to those special and powerful people whom he claims belong to him. People like you who he will stop at nothing to either bring to his side or destroy. The council recognizes this and will see you as a threat. Whether it’s true or not, they lump all with the mark together with the followers of Zeldek.”