When they reached the window that Londenia had first feared to look through on the way up, it now seemed a mere leap from the ground. It was still incredibly high of course, but below, she saw actual body shapes. Perhaps it was just hope, but she was sure she could make out the faces of her people waiting on the street below. She felt a chill and yet her body still sweated profusely.
As they descended further, her mind churned over every scenario. If he threatens my people, we will stand our ground. There is no way he would risk his parents’ lives; he wouldn’t have allowed us this far if he did not care for them. And the sorrow and pain I saw on his face was real. Her thoughts darted randomly. What if he has bowmen in the buildings and they pick us off? But surely it would be too much of a risk, since they might only hit one target and the other one could kill their hostage.
A reassuring thought occurred to her as they neared what must have been only ten stories from the ground. He will not want them to be seen! He’s had them hidden away in his tower that only he enters for Ten-Gods-only-knew how long. If they are seen alive, it would mean his people would lose faith in his cause; the proof of a king with broken ears who was spared, while others must apparently die. He will surely make sure all of his guards are not able to view Rigard alive.
It turned out there were more than ten stories left to descend, and Taigo and Londenia swapped their hostage shifts another four times before arriving at ground level. They walked into the large cavernous entrance hall where she had last seen her people.
Through the already open doors, were familiar faces outside in the sunlight. Londenia allowed herself a quick glimpse at Celóndas, who stared back with wide questioning eyes from the huddle of haggard faces. The healer shrugged and mouthed, “What’s happening?” then bit her lip and looked around the streets and up the high-sided buildings.
Londenia, who was on her break from holding hostage, lifted a finger to her lips to try to calm her friend. King Anthony didn’t make eye contact with anybody. He stormed ahead along the empty street towards the long straight path leading to the coast. With a nod from Queen Londenia, the huddle followed, led by Taigo, who held old King Rigard around the neck with the blade pressed close.
The small mass of bodies, eleven strong, moved in unison like a collection of desert beetles, with eyes scanning all around. I wish I could explain to you all what is happening, she thought, but didn’t want to risk anything that may destabilize the situation. Amidst the panic in her mind, she tried to account for every face. Where is Grey’Gon and Trae’Gon? She walked next to Taigo in front of the huddle of her people. She shouted to King Anthony, twenty footfalls ahead. “Two of my guards are missing!”
“If you wish to linger, I will have them turn back on their journey to Camptal. They were sent there yesterday for reprogramming. It will likely only take them a day to arrive back if that is what you wish,” King Anthony shouted back, somehow still using a lowered voice as always.
Bastard! I don’t have a choice. We have to get out now while we still can. Her heart sank at the thought of turning her back on two of Romarus’s most trusted guards. She did not want to think of the horrors of what reprogramming might involve. Will Romarus ever forgive me for leaving Grey’Gon, his good friend and trusted protector, in the hands of King Anthony’s people?
Londenia held her tongue.
In uneasy silence, they continued to follow the flowing black robes of King Anthony, who strode ahead, gliding along the perfectly straight path, beginning to near the edge of the Dead City of Raydem.
It was a relief to be surrounded by grass fields and not have the imminent threat of bowmen from high towers. At the stone boundary to the city, they swapped hostage duties. Londenia pinned the king’s mother tight to her with the edge of the blade to the side of her neck.
“You promised I would get my revenge on him,” Taigo said, pushing Rigard a few steps in front of him after he released his grasp.
“And you will have it,” Londenia whispered in a pathetic attempt to hide her words from the old woman’s ears that were practically right next to her lips. “But it will not be now. We must make sure these people are safe and you are too important to risk in such folly.”
“Folly? Killing that bastard is not folly!” Taigo waved his blade at the flowing shadow of a man walking ahead of them on the straight path.
“It is when it could risk getting you and my people killed,” she snapped back through gritted teeth. She flicked her eyes at the back of Ilar’s head, thinking, don’t show that we are divided in front of her, you fool.
The old woman spoke in her soft caring way. “I swear by all Ten, that if you lay a hand on my son I will make sure you suffer a long, painful death.” Ilar’s words, coupled with her usual warmth, made a sinister mix. She remembered her own mother’s words again: a mother scorned is a vicious creature.
“You mean that cunt who ordered his guards to peel my little sister’s skin, as they made my mother watch?” As Taigo spoke, it sounded as if he was about to vomit.
The king’s mother turned her head frontwards again stiffly and lowered her tone, uttering, “He is still my son.” Her voice shook and it too sounded as if she was about to vomit.
When they were halfway along the straight path to the coast, Londenia felt her hand seizing and a clammy sweat had built up. She nodded to Taigo, who stepped forward and restrained old King Rigard again with the blade held tight in position at a large vein in his neck. Londenia loosened her grip on Ilar.
Without warning, Ilar elbowed her in the gut, knocking all air out of her. Screaming followed: “Tony, run! Leave us! Get on a boat and go.” The old woman tripped as she ran towards the black robes of her son, that were now billowing around as he turned to face them. The situation crumbled into chaos. Londenia heard her own heart beating and felt it throb through her face and fingers.
The king shouted in Taigo’s direction, “No!”
Londenia swung her head to the right. The world slowed. Taigo’s arm whipped to the side. A spray of red came from old King Rigard’s throat. His eyes widened, staring at the sky. Taigo’s lips were tight as he watched Rigard fall to his knees, clutching his gushing neck.
“Rigard!” the woman wailed from where she had fallen. King Anthony ran, robes flying, and knelt next to his dying father. Londenia crouched next to the old woman and instinctively rubbed a hand on her quivering back. She swiped it away and Londenia was met with a vicious snarl. “Don’t you touch me, bitch! That runt killed my love!” She sobbed, and turned her head to her son who cradled the red, dead mass of old King Rigard.
Taigo stepped towards the embracing pair of son and dead father. The boy’s face was emotionless. He booted King Anthony under the chin. The skeleton of a man fell backwards three footfalls and reached inside his black robes. He withdrew the gods’ device, and threatened, “I will signal my guards by the coast to return to the ship and you will have no way out.” He glared at Taigo as he lay on his back, his finger hovered over the gods’ device, ready for sorcery.
“Stop!” Londenia shouted, forcing herself to once again restrain Ilar with the blade against the poor creature’s neck.
The king lowered the panel and looked at his mother. “Just…just follow them this time…please. This will all be over soon.” His eyes looked as if they were misting and his voice broke.
With a flick of her head, Londenia summoned Taigo to her side. He took over the holding of the king’s mother. “Now that you know he is capable of doing it,” she stopped for a moment, stared into the king’s eyes and clenched her jaw, “take us to the fucking ship!”
The king staggered to his feet. It was as if there was an invisible rope tied between him and his father’s body as he turned to continue along the path towards the Bay of Blue. King Anthony didn’t brush himself off, nor did he look back. Taigo followed with Ilar in tow.
Londenia ran back to the huddle and threw her arms around Celóndas, who was slow to return the embrace. Londenia felt floods
of tears flow down her cheeks, and it was as if her voice was incapable of handling the amount of sobbing that followed. Her gut hurt with the wrenching of the torrent of emotion that was unleashed.
Celóndas squeezed her arms and whispered in her ear, “Just keep moving. We will make it.”
So they moved. With a taste of sick in her mouth, Londenia walked and breathed. That’s all she did. The sea edged closer. Taigo walked, without faltering, with the old woman clutched to his body as the King of the Dead Cities led them to freedom.
They were within one hundred footfalls of the beached boats that they would row to the Fair Blue Maiden. Although they were closer than ever to freedom, Londenia felt her heart race and cold sweat beaded on her brow. She was working through their final escape in her head, which took many forms in her overworking mind. She had come to a decision. Londenia clenched her fists and marched ahead of the walking huddle, striding alongside the flowing robes of King Anthony.
He glared straight ahead and sniffed deeply. His eyes looked red and puffed. “He didn’t have to kill him,” he said, in a hushed voice even for his standards.
You’re right, she agreed, but couldn’t bring herself to sympathize with the evil king. Part of her felt that Taigo deserved vengeance. She wished that revenge did not involve an innocent, good man like old King Rigard.
“We will board two of the rowing boats with your mother,” Londenia told him. “Once we reach the Fair Blue Maiden and my guards give it the all-clear, we will release her back to a single boat and she can row back to shore.” Londenia didn’t wait for a response. She dropped back ten footfalls to where Taigo was walking with Ilar still pinned to him.
The old woman closed her eyes as she stumbled and shuffled forward with the blade pressed to her neck. She can’t even bear to look at me. The thought sickened Londenia. She had never before felt so much hatred directed at her from somebody in her entire life. Somebody who she (if they had met in different circumstances) would likely have respected and got along well with. She wanted nothing more than to look the old woman in the eyes and somehow apologize.
Londenia explained the plan to Taigo, who responded with a sharp nod aimed at King Anthony’s back. He wants further revenge, and I don’t blame him, but we must ensure these people escape. In a futile attempt to hide her words from Ilar, she rasped quietly…and loudly, “You will get your chance but now is not the time!”
Taigo’s eyes shot hatred at the king. His blue eyes flicked back to Londenia with a difficult nod. “Promise me, when I get my chance after this day, that you will not hold me back.” As he spoke, spit hit the back of Ilar’s short silvery hair.
“I promise.”
Sand was under her feet. The long rowing boats that carried them to this place sat there tilted up in the sand. King Anthony stood aside. He raised an arm towards the boats and dropped his head. Londenia’s party ran and dragged the vessels into the shallows and scrambled in. Taigo edged Ilar into one with four guards. Londenia boarded the other with Celóndas, Queen Se’Rel, Sandunion and the remaining guards.
Their boats edged away from the land. They left behind a lone, black, robed figure on the beach. King Anthony didn’t move or even raise his head. He stood, broken. Londenia’s chest began to calm but the cold sweat still remained on her face and clammy hands.
Queen Se’Rel put a hand onto Londenia’s shoulder from the seat behind her in the boat. “Queen Londenia, we are all in your debt and you mustn’t regret what happened to King Rigard. I knew the man well, and I suspect he knew nothing of his son’s dealings. We thought he was dead long ago and if he knew of what that monster had done, I think he would have wished himself dead long before this day.”
“He was still innocent,” Londenia said, as her eyes stared blankly at the ever shrinking figure of King Anthony. “His ears were broken, you know. He likely had no idea why we were holding him. His last thought was probably an image of evil Queen Londenia, who came to their tower as a guest and ended up having somebody slit his throat.”
“The gods know the truth and it was not you who sliced,” the old queen said, looking across to Taigo in the other boat.
“He’s just a boy and I put him into that situation.”
“He is essentially a first prince. He is a boy come of age and what he has experienced in the last year is tragedy that many would not face in a lifetime. And you did not put him into that situation. It was thrust upon all of us.” The Queen of the Bay dabbed her wisdom onto Londenia like a cool cloth soothing her flustered brow.
The stress of the ordeal caught up with her and for a moment, she let the sounds of the water lapping at the side of the wooden boat fill her mind. She closed her eyes and felt the sun’s warmth. Almost as if in a distant dream, she heard Queen Se’Rel take the strain for a while; taking control and making plans. The water is clearly her domain coming from the Bay Kingdom as she does.
In a daze, Londenia found herself standing on the deck of the Fair Blue Maiden after the boats had been winched up. Some of the men scaled the side of the ship to haul the boats from the water. Her guards did a sweep of the craft and found it to be clear of King Anthony’s men.
Taigo sat their hostage in one of the boats and had her lowered down to the surface. As the old woman’s face grew smaller, her boat edging down to the water, Londenia heard whispered curses. The old woman held up nine fingers to all those standing on deck. Londenia couldn’t watch any longer and collapsed to the deck with her back leaning on the bulwark.
Taigo stood next to her, looking out over the Bay of Blue, and uttered, “I saw King Romarus.”
Ten Gods! “Where? When did you see him? Did you speak to him?” She had so many questions burning inside her.
“We crossed paths in Hal’s Forest. He told me of what happened to King Stewart. And that he sent him away with a promise.”
“Was he well? What promise?”
“He was quite well. Surviving. And he promised King Stewart he would find his son, Prince Baskerville.” Taigo’s eyes finally turned away from the water and met Londenia’s gaze.
She had no time to digest the news. Queen Se’Rel’s shout from the far end of the ship hit her ears: “There’s damage on the underside of the hull. It looks like it’s been tampered with. We can possibly repair it but I doubt she will hold together much more than a day. We will stay close to the coast and push her as far as she will give. Then we will make the remainder of the journey by land.”
Londenia was happy to let the Bay Queen take control while they were on the water, but as soon as they hit land she knew she would likely take command again as they made their final push to the Still Cities.
Trust only yourself. But even to yourself, question everything.
Ancient Lixus Proverb
Baskie
Skips Always Have a Plan
Owin was returned to his cell, perhaps four or five days ago, after being gifted a night with a comfortable bed because of Baskie’s bargaining with Grietum. He was glad Owin still resisted lying with the Bloated One after the chaos in the throne room when they witnessed the boy from the Land of the Old Ways being thrown around like a toy. But at the same time, it was worrying that Owin wouldn’t get released when King Romarus arrived if he had not yet performed his duty, as Grietum put it.
Baskie had seen the same scene time and time again in the dark, stale throne room. Before dusk, all of Grietum’s rats would kneel before her; twelve lines of rats, eight bodies deep—each had thick, strong arms and legs. Baskie felt tiny, sitting in front of Grietum’s small army of guards in her rusted metal structure that she called her hive.
“You have served me well for another day, my rats. And now you will receive the Gift as promised.” Baskie was used to the Bloated One’s shrieks—although he was fed up with the repetitive nature of every single day. Grietum had said those exact same words yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. But still, as he looked at the kneeling guards, he saw their anticipation of what w
as to come as if they were experiencing it for the first time.
Grietum raised her fat arms. Baskie was sitting close enough, perched at the foot of her throne, to catch the drifting smell of her musky armpits. Her breathing deepened as it always did at this moment. It was as if she was willing something from deep within her onto the still grid of bodies that were kneeling on the floor, but nothing of any significance ever happened, which always frustrated the big blue beast.
Sometimes, he would hear her mutter things to herself, such as, “What must I do?” But the large woman would shake this self-pitying moment away quickly and move onto the part that her servants, more like slaves, were waiting for. She would stand up from her throne, step off the dais and walk amongst the lines of kneeling men. Although, from what Baskie had seen, they were ‘no longer men’ so to speak.
Grietum carried with her a small leather pouch. At each of her rats she would stop, take a pinch of black dust from the bag and hold it to their nose. The man would push one nostril closed with a finger, and then sniff the dust. All of them, one by one, as she moved along the line, would throw their heads back and fall to their sides. Some would smile as if they were a child again. Others would lie back and convulse on the ground. Some looked as if anything they touched was the softest, most wonderful, material imaginable. This would continue for the best part of half of one hour until the state wore off and Grietum’s rats would stagger out of the throne room.
It wasn’t until a few days later that Baskie saw the true power that Grietum’s black dust held. The previous night, one of the guards had failed to lock the outer door to the hive and was about to receive his punishment. Baskie was sure she would have him beaten, but what really happened seemed to be much worse.
Grietum went down the lines as her rats knelt in their grid but when she got to Hugo, the ‘imbecile’ who had failed in his duty, she didn’t stop. Grietum passed by him and it was as if the man had been stabbed in the throat.
A Poisoned Land (Book 1: Faith, Lies and Blue Eyes) Page 33
