Consequences Within Chaos

by Derek Barton

  “Then I am going to peel every square inch of skin off your body myself.” She stood and grounded the heel of her boot into his hand, snapping several bones.

  #2

  The boy vomited again and continued to retch into his chamber pot. Taihven sputtered and gagged as dry heaves set in. For a week straight the young Prince had been ill.

  LLasher had made sure that the food did not agree with the newest resident in the dungeon cells of Adventdawn. Rotted horsemeat was put in each of his evening stews – ironically, it was meat from the ones he supposedly killed in Charners Hall. It had not taken a lot of coin to persuade the Dungeonguard Horace. He liked that in a guard.

  “Prince Taihven?” LLasher called out through his cell door window. “Prince Taihven, are you alright? Do you need the guard?”

  He heard the boy spit and then said, “Thank you, no.”

  “It, uh, it will get better, your highn—”

  “—Do not call me that!” The prince barked out.

  “Sorry… I guess in here, titles do not mean anything.”

  Their current guard, Joffrom called from his seat by the clock candle, “Keep it down now. I warn you, you do not want me to get up from this stool!”

  It sounded like Taihven laid back down on his cot, breathing heavily.

  “It will get easier. Does take some getting used to, for sure, but I guess you will be better in a fortnight.” LLasher paused to listen. The boy shifted on his cot but did not sound asleep.

  “My name is Caspen.”

  He got up from his own cot and dug out the tome he had been reading when the queen had visited him. “You just need to eat more to make up for the food you have lost and pass the time with this.”

  LLasher scooted the thin tome under his cell door and listened to it slide across the hall into the prince’s cell.

  The boy did not get up to retrieve it.

  “I know that it is not much, sire, but my lassie, she smuggled that in for me. It is a mystery and all.”

  Their cells and the hall between them were pitch black as it was the late hours.

  Finally, Prince Taihven said, “I do appreciate it.”

  “No worries.” LLasher replied. “You know, you are getting a bum-rush in this deal in my honest opinion.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well, I have myself never seen anyone get thrown in the lowest levels of Adventdawn just for killing a few horses. Sure you are going in a cell, but… this is a bit excessive if you ask me. And you being a noble boy and all. It just seems someone has really got it in for you.”

  The prince did not respond. The Camiyaan let the conversation die down and the dank shadows of the evening take over. He wanted the boy to think of his words, his situation and the “injustice” of it all.

  The guards switched out and the obese Dungeonguard Horace came waddling down between the cells with their dinners. “Prisoners, stand in the corners of your cells.”

  Horace opened Taihven’s cell first and then set the steel plate on the ground in front of the door. “Smells like death in here! Hand me your chamber pot. You still getting sick – are you sure you are related to King Haedrec?” He laughed at his jab at the prince.

  Taihven rolled over on his side to face the wall.

  Horace stormed over and kicked the cot, launching the boy into the stone wall. “Get off your arse and do as I told you! You do not get special treatment here.”

  “If Prince Taihven is proven not guilty, you might not want him as your enemy in the future.” LLasher spoke through the window of his cell.

  Horace spun around and snapped, “You want some of this action?”

  “Just offering a bit of advice.” The Camiyaan backed away from the window.

  “If you want to pick up your remaining teeth, then you can offer me more!” The guard threw LLasher’s plate at his door, splattering grey gruel everywhere.

  Taihven limped over to the guard rubbing his knee and handed over his chamber pot.

  “Oh no, runt! That offer has passed you. You go and live with that shit!” The rotund guard slammed the cell door and stormed back to his post chair muttering under his breath.

  “Sorry, Caspen, you got yelled at and losing your dinner,” The prince said. “Thanks for trying to help me though.”

  “Again, no worries. That piggy is overdue for a shank to burst that lard bubble of a belly.”

  Taihven chuckled at that.

  “You know…” LLasher approached his window again. “Prince Taihven, I could get you out of here. A fresh start and a new game in another place if you are willing for... for the right coin?”

  Taihven came to his own cell door window. He asked in a hushed tone, “Where would we go?”

  And the hook has set. Now to reel in the wriggling mackerel, LLasher thought.

  “That would depend on you, sire. Where you want to end up and when you go all depends on your access to the coin. For a bonus, I could even get you a little one on one time with Horace?”

  The boy left the window and righted his cot.

  Hmmm. Maybe this fish is not hungry enough? He wondered.

  “Uh, I realize I would have to take your word and all for payment, being that you are down here, but if I get you out, you could pay me then, no?”

  No response.

  “I hope I have not offe—”

  “—Why are you down here, Caspen?” the boy inquired.

  Clever. Good. That mind will get me a better coin in the Market.

  “I am a mean drunk. Just like my father was. This last spell I was under, I had an unfortunate conversation with the wrong person which turned out to be the wrong group of persons. You ever heard the name Kaile the Knife?”

  “No.”

  “Well, he got that name for good reasons. I only gave Kaile a good scratch to remember me, but I got a few of his buddies much worse. Or so what they tell me. I do not remember that night much myself.”

  More silence. The awkward and slow conversation started to get to LLasher.

  “I may not be like the type you are used to meeting, sire, but right now you do not have many options.”

  He waited for a response, but again the prince stalled the conversation.

  “You know if you think you are going to get be—“

  A gurgling, sputtering sound interrupted him. LLasher could hear Taihven moving around upon his cot. The boy was panting and thrashing.

  “Prince Taihven?” he called out.

  Again there was no response, only sputtering and choking sounds.

  “Horace, open this up! Hurry!”

  The guard ran to his cell and fumbled with the keys.

  As he picked them off the floor, LLasher changed his mind. “Go over there and make sure he is not choking to death! Hurry!”

  The Dungeonguard opened the prince’s cell again and went into the dark.

  “Well?”

  Horace scampered over to his window. “You better come see. The boy is just staring and foaming a bit at the mouth but he is not moving!” He yammered in a panic as he opened LLasher’s door.

  “If you have gone and made him so sick from that horsemeat that he dies, I will gut you and leave your entrails right next to his body, you idiot!” He bolted over to the boy.

  Taihven laid stiff in the cot, foam as Horace said dribbled out of his mouth, his eyes were focused on the ceiling.

  “Taihven, are you alright? Taihven!”

  LLasher used a corner of a blanket to wipe the foam away, then snapped his fingers in front of the prince’s face. There was no reaction at all.

  Perhaps this is just as well. I can kidnap the kid without a fuss. He thought to himself.

  “The cell that the queen used, is that still open?”

  The Dungeonguard nodded.

  “We have to hold him in place, he is convulsing. Come here.”

  Horace the Fly walked right into the LLasher Spider’s reach. As Horace bent over the prince’s feet, he stuck a blade deep i
nto the back rolls of the man’s neck. The serrated tip poked out the front and sliced through Horace’s vocal cords. Ropes of blood splattered over Taihven’s boots.

  The Camiyaan shoved the dying fat man to the side and then scooped the boy up and over his shoulders.

  During the moments it took for him to find the secret passage trigger with the cell, he kept looking over his shoulder at the boy expecting at any moment for him to awaken. It was a huge relief when the panel the queen had described to him, slid open revealing the stairwell that led up to the pantry. He retrieved the prince.

  Halfway up the staircase, Taihven asked aloud, "Do I stay out here?"

  LLasher froze. His mind raced with his options or for some answer.

  "Or will you come to me?”

  “I… I do not understand, sire. You fell sick…” He stuttered as he lifted Taihven and set him carefully on the steps. The boy continued to have the blank expression and lifeless eyes.

  The slaver snapped his fingers again. Still out… Did he speak?

  He restarted up the steps and then to the panel which opened into the Castle Pantry. The Royal Kitchen was closed down and deserted after the Artadeus family dinners. He found a large wheat sack which he dumped out its contents on the floor and rolled it over the prince’s body.

  With the wheat sack over his shoulder, he would leave by the delivery walkway and go straight passed the guards that would not question anything.

  LLasher closed the sliding panel. As he lifted the sack, he felt a sharp twinge and his back burned from the exertion. Perhaps a special visit to the Night Angels at the docks would be in order, he smiled to himself.

  When he pushed through a pair of double oak doors by the last of the cast-iron ovens, Taihven screamed out, “NO!”

  The boy kicked and flailed inside the sack and nearly yanked himself free from LLasher’s grip. “Stop it! You are going to make me hurt you!”

  “What is going on there?” someone shouted from around a corner of the hall.

  A set of boots began to pound toward his position. Another set of boots joined the first.

  LLasher bolted back into the pantry and fumbled with the panel trigger.

  “Who is in here? This is the Wyvernguard. Answer!”

  As the panel slid closed behind him, he heard the pair of soldiers open the pantry door. Their torch light could be seen in the cracks of the panel.

  “Get the others. Someone is in the Kitchen. I know I heard him!”

  LLasher knew his opportunity had been quashed and he crept back down into the dungeon.

  In Taihven’s cell, he threw the boy hard onto the cot, then tore open the sack. Putting the blade of his dagger to the prince’s throat, he screamed into his face, “What bloody game are you playing at?”

  The boy did not answer — never seemed to answer him, only his dead-fish eyes looked back at him.

  The boy is not playing? Is he still …gone? That is it! That is why she is so quick to get rid of him. The boy is insane! Another blemish on the mighty name of Artadeus. Oh… oh, yes! You will pay me much more now, Queen Demetryce. I will take the boy as I said. Maybe not tonight, but now that I know, I want more!

  The Camiyaan tore the bag completely away from him, used it to sop up most of the dead guard’s blood and wrapped it around Horace’s neck. He would haul the body into his cell. They could put the blame on him – it would not matter and in the coming days, he would be back out to the Everglass Seas where names do not matter much. For now, he would allude the Wyvernguard and find a place to lay low in one of the villages.

  “Is anyone here?” The prince asked. “What do you want from me?”

  LLasher could see that the prince continued to speak to an imaginary person. He grabbed the Dungeonguard’s boots.

  “Well, Your Highness, I will have to leave you to the dark while I go find your mother! But on another day soon, you will learn those answers.”

  LLasher laughed at the craziness of the night and became giddy with the possibilities ahead of him.

  “I-I am ready to see,” Taihven whispered.

  #3

  Winter had struck with a grudge. Tayneva hibernated in deep snow banks from recent storms. The cover of nightfall was a blessing and a curse for their small party. Letandra felt along the wall with her hands and advanced with care along the path. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Sergeant Blackstaff and the other soldiers remained hidden among the rock outcroppings. Satisfied by their position, she invoked the magical charm bound at her temple. The effect from her vision-gem was immediate and what was black was now seen as a dull grey or white.

  Storm clouds rolled overhead and strong winds stirred debris about the grounds. The weather provided the ideal cover yet something nagged at her. Conditions were near perfect for her operation which made her all the more nervous. The princess chalked it up to paranoia, but she was tense nonetheless.

  The Viestrahl did not have great night sight, but it was believed they used a form of heat vision. The dark would hide the humans well; however, in order to keep their heated forms hidden, they were buried in layers of leathers. Their normal chain and metal armors were left behind in a bunker a half mile behind them. For this operation their activities had to be done in absolute stealth. Should they be discovered, the sheer number of the Viestrahl here would easily overwhelm them in hand-to-hand melee and render their steel useless anyway. Discovery would end in failure or worse death.

  At the top of a cliff drop off, she laid flat against the ground and peered down into the valley below. Letandra noted how the beasts had dug hundreds of holes into the cliff walls for shelter and used rings of luminous, blue moss for heat and illumination. The sapphire twilight gave the fortified campsite an ominous presence.

  The Viestrahl were in working formations and conducting battle marches. Hundreds of the animals were in long lines and charging as a unit across open fields at makeshift "human" targets. Attacking in the dark was another new tactic she had never seen them use.

  Between the running lines, lumbering creatures barked, motioned orders and guided them. They had serrated tusks protruding from their lower jaws and tree trunk-like bodies. Who or what these new creatures were and their connection to the Viestrahl also had to be a part of their tactical changes. Were they new leaders or unknown allies?

  Mareor never said anything about allies, she answered herself. What else did the bastard not tell them?

  It had taken couple of weeks for the Wyvernguard and the Mages to break the will of the captured Viestrahl male. Captain Ruessard advised the Court of their progress daily. She shuddered at the thought of torture and would never support it openly. Yet, in dire times like these, how does a leader justify not getting the enemy secrets that could save hundreds of lives?

  The new position she was placed in did not allow time to think of the morality of their acts; however, she did not like the start of her rule as Lady Magistrate. She had been relieved when Sergeant Devin had dispatched the animal once their plan was formalized.

  The beast had confessed to being a member of a scouting troop. Later, he detailed how the Viestrahl had moved their Hive Nest closer before the mountain passes were closed. This dreaded confirmation of their fears forced them to step up their own war agenda. The Nest was exactly how Mareor had described. This information had been crucial and critical to their success and she hoped it would remain reliable.

  Their plan was simple yet precise – the groups of her operation would divide and work their way into the valley. Each would find their posts in key points. Sergeant Blackstaff and her archers would infiltrate the camp to the leader tower, while Letandra and her team would establish and cover an escape route. Lieutenant Dahova and her Aberrationists mages would distract the beasts from the other teams. Once inside Sergeant Blackstaff would spy on Ramnethas, the Viestrahl War-master and try to obtain more information on their Horde March.

  The hour of the raid had arrived and the young magistrate rejoined her sq
uad.

  ***

  Sergeant Deliah Blackstaff and her trio of archers angled off the footpath and climbed down the cliff wall. She glanced back up at her second-in-command, Lieutenant Breval Jurvanch. Their eyes locked and he nodded, signaling that he was successful with her earlier request. Upon reaching the valley floor, she darted over to a pile of bushes and pine tree branches.

  Deliah knelt down and pulled back the scrub and several wool blankets. The body of the Viestrahl, Mareor, laid bound in a metal net at her boots. His body was spotted with open sores and pulsating blisters. The disease was burning through him fast. A cruel smile spread over her face as she removed the binding. “Time to get you home, big boy.”

  “I have to tell you that I am not comfortable with this, Sergeant.” Jurvanch whispered over her shoulder.

  “You had your chance to voice your concern! I am not debating this now." Her response was terse and edged.

  He swallowed his challenge and the team lifted Mareor onto their shoulders.

  “When we get in, take out the Tower Guards, but be sure to leave at least one wounded. Place Mareor among the other bodies. After we have escaped, the Viestrahl will gather all the wounded together.”

  Deliah had kept this secret and made sure Letandra had no knowledge of her plan. If it came back on them at least the princess would not suffer any blame or retributions. Deliah had not relished using her soldiers like this, but the time had come for more impacting measures against the filthy beasts.

  As Deliah’s group moved into position behind boulders and rock outcroppings, Lieutenant Dahova and her group executed their initiative right on time. The skies above the western rim lit up with pair of massive manta ray-like beasts that appeared and swam amongst the clouds. Their forms had soft purple luminescent lines that streaked along their massive grey bodies.

  The aberrations were well-crafted and drew the Viestrahl out of their battle formations — the beasts were easily distracted and fascinated by the graceful mantas. Songlike moans from the mantas echoed off the cliff face. The Wyvernguard had practiced similar yet less elaborate tactics against the Viestrahl during prior horde marches. Magical powers were foreign to them and always gave the human soldiers an advantage.