The Defender of Rebel Falls: A Medieval Science Fiction Adventure (The William Whitehall Adventures Book 1)

by Christensen, Erik

  “How could they not?” asked Maya. “They’ve changed all of us.”

  Rachel snorted. “You’re the Dragon Brother now. I don’t think you’ll be bored for long.”

  “And here I am, just a lousy future Earl,” said Jack.

  “You don’t want to be an Earl, do you Jack?” asked Charlie.

  Jack sat in startled silence for a moment. “No. I guess I don’t. I hadn’t decided until now, but you’re right. I don’t want to be an Earl.”

  “So what will you do?” asked William.

  “Well, I have a job to do right now. I have to get my mother moved, and then I’m sure Dad will assign me something else.”

  “And after that?” asked Maya.

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll explore. Less than half of Azuria is mapped in detail, and hardly any of it is populated. The possibilities are infinite. Anyway, I’m not sure I want to stay in one spot for long.” He looked pointedly at Rachel lying against the cargo. “Unless I have a reason, that is.”

  Rachel rolled away to avoid his gaze. “Jack, we discussed this already.” William shot a questioning look at Maya, who shrugged back at him and shook her head.

  “We talked about it, but we never settled anything,” said Jack.

  Rachel gritted her teeth. “Look, do we have to do this now? In front of everybody?”

  “When else can we do this, Rachel?” asked Jack. “As soon as I step off this barge in Marshland, you’ll be off to Faywater and I’ll never see you again.”

  Rachel clenched her jaw and refused to look at him. Maya cut in. “We’ll stay a few days in Marshland, Jack. I don’t want my patient traveling non-stop all the way.”

  Rachel stared at the deck boards near her feet. “I told you, I have things to do.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Jack. “First you have to go to the Clinic, then you have to go somewhere and do these mysterious ‘things’, whatever they are.”

  “Just leave her be, Jack,” said Maya. “You don’t know—”

  Rachel whirled toward Jack. “My father is Zander Bertrand!” She glared at Jack, daring him to respond. “Are you happy now? You’ve finally dragged the truth out of me.”

  Silence descended on the barge, leaving only the sound of gurgling water. Jack gaped at her, his unformed thoughts unwilling to coalesce into words. Several seconds later William remembered to close his own mouth.

  “Okay, now you know…” muttered Maya.

  Rachel shook her head and continued. “Look, I’m sorry I yelled. But I’ve spent the last two years running from my father, staying hidden. I assumed trekking through the wilderness of Azuria would be enough to avoid him, but no, we have to run into his henchmen.”

  Goosebumps rose on William’s skin. “King’s eyes…the picture we found on Antony.”

  She nodded. “I thought for sure he would remember who I was. He visited my father often enough when I was quite young. They’d been best friends since their Academy days, and Antony was the only one he would have trusted with an operation this far away.” She shook her head. “Thankfully I’ve changed a bit since then, but it was still close.”

  “Rachel, why didn’t you tell me?” asked Jack. “If I’d known—”

  “You would have done what, exactly?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said, throwing up his hands. “Cared.” He looked away from her and gazed at the horizon. “Even if I couldn’t do anything useful, at least I would have cared.”

  Rachel hesitated, then slid across the deck to wrap her good arm around him. “I know you would have.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “But I doubt you would have understood.”

  “Try me,” said Jack.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Fine. What’s the harm now. My father raised me to be a leader. Girls can’t attend the Academy, so he educated me himself. All the things fathers teach their sons, he taught me. He had a lot to teach. Hunting, obviously, but also fighting. Weapons, bare hands, explosives…you name it. He hired tutors to teach me letters and numbers. I learned how to run a farm, command a labor crew, how to tell when someone’s lying…”

  “He wanted you to inherit,” said Jack.

  “That’s what I thought. I was his only child, and it didn’t matter to him that I was a girl. After all, why couldn’t I run a Dukedom? But when I got older I learned he wasn’t a Duke at all. Not really. My mother’s father was the real Duke, and one of her brothers should have inherited. But they both died, and since my mother was the only child left, my father took it upon himself to run my grandfather’s Dukedom.”

  William cleared his throat. “You don’t think your father had anything to do with your uncles’ deaths, do you?”

  “My father is an ambitious man, Will. Later when he told me about his family history, I learned what he really wants: to regain his lost birthright.”

  “Hang on,” said Jack. “You said he’s not the real Duke.”

  “He isn’t,” said Rachel. “Jack, you know royal history. Who was King Duncan’s father?”

  “King Michael, of course.”

  “And who was king before him?”

  “Thomas. Everyone knows that.”

  “Sure they do. But do you know any of Thomas’ siblings?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” said Jack. “I only memorized the kings and queens.”

  “Well, my father had reason to know. He’s descended from Thomas’ older sister Nora. The first born of King Stephen Thorsten and Queen Priscilla.”

  William let that sink in. Rachel was a direct descendant of Royalty. That’s why it meant so little to her. “But so what?” he asked. “If you go back far enough I’d bet we’re all related to royalty.”

  “I suppose so,” she said. “But the law doesn’t say only sons can inherit. In fact, the Dukes have to approve inheritances before the King’s death…or the Queen’s if she is sovereign.”

  Jack gasped. “If Thomas had named Nora his heir, your father would be King now, instead of Duncan.”

  Rachel nodded. “Everything he’s done so far in his life has been to win the throne one way or another. He hasn’t said this out loud to anyone but me, and presumably his trusted lieutenants. Like Kaleb Antony.”

  “And he wanted you to be part of it,” said William.

  Rachel nodded.

  Jack hugged her gently. “No wonder you wanted to get away. And no wonder you didn’t want to tell anyone. So now what?”

  “I have to talk to him,” said Rachel. “Convince him to abandon his plans.”

  “Why not tell someone like Duke Vincent?” asked William.

  “What could he do? One Duke has no authority over another, even an acting one. And King Duncan…I know how you feel about him Will, but the King really is a coward. He won’t lift a hand. He won’t even name an heir for fear of causing a fight among the Dukes. For all I know he might hand the throne to my father. Believe me, you don’t want that. Anyway, I can’t expose him without talking to him first. No matter what he has done, he’s still my father.”

  The rest of the trip passed quietly. The countryside slipped past them while the constant western breeze brushed their faces, but at night those things disappeared. Everything seemed still while they huddled in the dark beneath the tarpaulin, except when the barge passed over a large eddy, or the poleman pushed the barge away from the bank. Despite the illusion of stillness they woke to the familiar sight of Marshland’s eastern borders, empty of both people and trees, with nothing but grass and reeds for miles, the same ground they had trudged through at the start of their long trek.

  “Well, would you look at that,” said Jack as he stared at the mass of blooms along the riverbank.

  Maya laughed and tossed a peanut shell at him. “I thought you said flowers weren’t a big deal.”

  “Lotuses,” said William. “Thousands of them.” He looked at Maya. “We really did it, didn’t we? The river is clean again.” Maya smiled in response.

  The barge reached the
docks of Marshland a few hours later, and they each went their separate ways, agreeing to meet that evening for a late meal. William was torn between reporting to the Library and seeing his mother. Duty won, and he began the long walk alone to the Hill. He was lost in a daydream when he heard a voice.

  “Look! Wee Willie Whitehands is back from slaying dragons!”

  He looked up to see the inevitable: Oz and his companions blocking his path up the hill. He had no time for this, but he couldn’t avoid it. Anger got the best of him. “I didn’t slay dragons, you idiot. I found them, became their friends, established trade with them. What have you done besides wander the streets during the day and drink what your father leaves when he passes out at night?”

  Oz’s eyes narrowed. “You leave my dad out of it.”

  “Oz, I’d gladly leave you and your father out of everything for the rest of time. Get out of my way.” He moved forward, but Kirby pushed him back.

  “You’re making that stuff up about dragons,” said Kirby. “Trying to make yourself look important.”

  William stared him in the eyes, refusing to flinch. “Compared to you, Kirby, all I have to do to look important is get out of bed in the morning. I said get out of my way.”

  A sick smile spread on Kirby’s face. “I heard you got tortured. Tied up. Starved and beaten. You know what? That sounds like a fun game. Maybe you’d like to play? If you don’t, then maybe you should stop trying to be such a big shot.”

  Oz shoved William hard, pushing him back a step. “Yeah. A big shot gets noticed. Gets into trouble.”

  Brady looked eager to get his dig in. “He’s probably saying all that stuff to get his girl back, right Kirby? But it won’t work, will it?”

  Kirby shot a dirty look at Brady. “Shut up, you moron.”

  The exchange puzzled William. Unbidden, the answer came to him. He drew his sword in one smooth motion. The three bullies backed away in shock, but William tossed his sword into the long grass beside them. He strode forward, grabbed Kirby’s shirt and hurled him to the ground, a well-placed knee at the bully’s throat restraining him. A warning glance at the other two convinced them to keep their distance. He turned back to Kirby. “What do you know about Melissa?”

  “Nothing,” said Kirby. He grinned at William despite his position.

  William pushed his knee harder against Kirby’s throat. “Try again.”

  Kirby shook his head and grunted at the pressure against his throat. “I never spoke to her.”

  “You lie.” He looked over at the others. “He’s lying. Isn’t he, boys?” They nodded vigorously, afraid to be next in line for this unexpected wrath. “Fine,” he said. “Since we have the truth now, I may as well tell the rest of the story. Stop your squirming, or I’ll stop it for you.” Kirby stopped wriggling and William continued. “Correct me if any of this is wrong. You told Melissa to stop seeing me, or else you would beat me, isn’t that right? Keep your lying mouth shut; your eyes tell me the truth. You also told her not to tell me why, so I would doubt myself. All so you could enjoy the pain you inflicted on us.” He glared at Oz and Brady. “And you two pathetic fools went along with it, even though you aren’t like him. Are you?”

  Oz and Brady huddled together and shook their heads.

  William continued. “Yes, Kirby, I know what you are. The word is ‘sadist’, although I doubt you know it. You like pain. You even enjoy feeling pain yourself, that’s how much you like it. It would explain the cuts on your arm. But it’s easier to hurt other people, isn’t it? I bet you even hurt your pals here when no one else is around. But not enough to drive them away. Am I right? Yes, the look on Brady’s face tells me I’m right.”

  He dug his knee in again. “You won’t look for pain here anymore. Not from me, not from my family or friends. Not from anyone in Marshland. You can leave or you can die. I don’t care what trouble I get in. Your family would be so relieved they’d probably give me a medal. Now stand up, keep your mouth shut, start walking and don’t stop until you’re gone.”

  Kirby scrambled to his feet as William released him and glanced toward the sword lying in the grass. William glared back, almost hoping Kirby would try. Defeat slowly replaced rage, and Kirby slunk away. Twice he looked over his shoulder before breaking into a run. Moments later, he was gone.

  “Now you,” said William as he strode toward Oz.

  Oz raised his hands to fend off the expected blows. “It wasn’t my idea!”

  “I don’t care. We have something else to discuss.”

  “What?” he asked, his voice shaking.

  “I’m tired of your nicknames. My name is William Whitehall. Not Willie, not White Hands, not Bookworm. My friends call me Will, but you haven’t earned that right. One last thing—from now on, you will speak to me with respect, or not at all.”

  Oz nodded his agreement. William retrieved his sword from the grass. Oz pointed at Brady. “What about him?”

  William sheathed his sword. “He’ll do whatever you do because he can’t think of anything different.” He walked past them and climbed the hill. They vanished from his mind before he reached the Library door.

  “I’m back,” he said as he strode into Cairns’ office. He dropped the packet of reports on his boss’s desk. “We have a lot to discuss, I know, but I have to do something first.”

  Cairns looked up from his papers. “Welcome back, William. She’s in her workroom.”

  William grinned at his own transparency and left to find Melissa hard at work. She looked up in surprise. “Oh—I didn’t expect you back today.” She rose from her seat but quickly sat down again, doing her best to mask her fear.

  William strode around the table toward her. “That’s strange… Kirby Elric knew I was back.”

  She recoiled at the mention of his name. “Who?”

  He bent to kiss her. “Melissa, you don’t need to pretend anymore. Kirby and I came to an understanding.”

  Doubt still clouded her face. “Wh—What sort of understanding?”

  “That he would leave and never come back.”

  Her eyes widened in amazement. “He agreed to that?”

  “I didn’t give him a choice.”

  She leapt from her chair and clung to him, exhaling in shudders as she buried her face in his chest. “He said such horrible things, Will! I was so worried he would hurt you if I even looked at you in public.”

  “I know. But it’s okay now. He can’t touch us.”

  She gazed up at him with those large violet eyes. “Are you sure, Will? He won’t come back? To get even?”

  “If he does come back, it won’t be to hurt us. He doesn’t care about revenge; he wants easy victims. He won’t find any here.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Slowly, her doubt melted. She slipped her arms around his shoulders and let herself be lifted to the table. Papers fell to the floor unnoticed.

  Lester’s voice came from the door behind William. “Why can’t you greet me with the same enthusiasm, William?”

  “Oh, sorry, Lester.” He laughed as he and Melissa quickly separated.

  “Don’t apologize. In fact, I hated to interrupt. I have a meeting with Earl Bradford soon, and I must speak with you before I leave.”

  “Of course,” he said. He left Melissa with a squeeze of her hand and followed his employer to his office.

  Cairns pointed at the packet of reports as he sat behind his desk. “Very interesting reading.”

  “I tried to be thorough. Shall I pour tea?” He gestured at the boiling kettle.

  “Oh! Yes, please. I’d forgotten I’d put that on. No, I’m referring to reports that are not of your writing.”

  “I figured there would be other stuff in there. From Earl Hiram, I suppose.” He brought Cairns’ tea to the desk and poured his own.

  “Yes, and Sir Hendrick as well. You know, the Captain of the Guard is not happy with you, although he gives you much credit. How did you displease him?”

  “We argued about how to treat p
risoners, among other things. Is he looking to get back at me somehow?”

  “Perhaps. He’s asked permission to transfer you to the Guard. I suspect he wants to keep you where he can control you and administer punishment as he sees fit. I assume you’ll decline?”

  William smiled at how quickly his life had changed. Less than four months ago his answer would have been completely different. “Of course.”

  “I thought as much. This, however, I expect you’ll be much less likely to reject.”

  William raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

  “Earl Hiram didn’t tell you? Well, I suppose he had his reasons. These documents represent shares in business of trade between the town of Rebel Falls and the dragons. There are eight here.”

  “Eight shares? Shares of what?”

  “The profits, William. Don’t you know about shares in large operations?”

  William laughed. “Lester, the largest operation I’ve been part of is raising rabbits. Jack knows more about this sort of thing.”

  “Well, he’s part of this, too. When a trade or operation is too large for one person, everyone involved shares in the profits.”

  “That makes sense, but I’m not involved. That’s Earl Hiram’s job, and Dayna Klipp is printing the books.”

  “Yes, but large ventures need help getting started, which normally calls for money. A patron of such a business also receives a portion of the profit for the use of his money.”

  “Okay, I see the logic in that. But the only money involved was Earl Hiram’s.”

  “And Earl Bradford’s. He will get a share as well.”

  “So that’s two shares. So who are the other shares for?”

  “The five of you who discovered the dragons, plus one for the Town of Rebel Falls itself.”

  William grabbed the table for support and lowered his tea. “Why would we…why do I get a share?”

  “William, not all businesses start with money. Some begin with inventions, or an idea…or, as in your case, a discovery. Earl Hiram understood quite correctly that you and your companions are each entitled to a share. Without your discovery of the dragons, and the adept way in which you handled it, no trade would have been possible.”