by Jenny McKane
This regime did everything it could to break these people’s spirits. To keep them down, but—like a weed—they kept springing back to life. It didn’t matter how much poison was poured on them, or how many times they were hacked to the ground, it was the same. They endured. And they kept fighting.
He knew that after all this was over, it would be the same. Yes, they would be demoralized, but only for a short while. They would grow back, stronger than ever.
He knew, because it had been the same for him. Once, he had been in a crowd like this one. He had been only a boy. And he had watched the execution of someone who he had thought was indestructible…
His mother had held his hand so tightly, he had thought that it would surely break.
They had been the first to reach the execution site. He still hadn’t believed it, even though she had told him, the night before. She had sat at the end of his bed and wept. She had said that his father was to be murdered by the regime the next day, and that it was their duty to be there. To witness it.
His father had been a great leader, but Skyresh hadn’t known how great. He had watched the people gather for the event. They had all stared at him and talked to him. Told him what a great man his father was and how honored they were to be here.
They had also told him that this would not be the end. That it could never be the end.
He still remembered the exact moment when he had seen his father for the last time.
They had pushed him to the front and put the noose over his head. The crowd had grown silent. And in the moment before the executioner had pulled the rope, his father had stared at him. Skyresh had felt his gaze like a beam of light, straight into his soul.
And then, the deed had been done.
His mother had collapsed, pulling him into her arms. He could still remember the smell of her hair, pressed against his cheek.
“Never forget,” she had whispered over and over.
He had never forgotten. It had imprinted on his soul harder than the tattoos had embedded into the skin on his neck. It was why he had chosen this life. It was what drove him onwards, always.
And it was how he knew that it would be the same now. There was no defeat, even in death. The rebellion grew stronger, not weaker.
He was almost there.
A dignitary stood up, addressing the crowd.
“Citizens of Agnoria,” he boomed. “You are honored to be here to witness the execution of these insurgents. I am honored to witness it. It is an example of how swiftly and decisively our great realm deals with people who threaten our security.” He paused, considering the crowd. “And it should be an example to any of you who think that this is the path to glory. There is no glory in rebellion, only death.”
He knelt. “Hail Agnor!”
The crowd kept standing until the guardians came through them, pushing them to the ground until they were kneeling.
“Hail Agnor,” they repeated. But their voices were weak and lost in the wind.
The dignitary frowned. Skyresh could see that he wasn’t impressed but had decided not to push it. The man stood up, his robe swaying around him. He turned to the executioner and nodded.
The executioner was a large man, dressed in shiny black. A black mask half covered his face; Skyresh could see his dark eyes staring out at him. He turned and led Skyresh to the first noose, securing his head through it. Skyresh could feel the roughness of the rope against his neck.
Then he led the others to their nooses. Skyresh stared at them, as they walked past him. Minna barely glanced at him, which saddened him. She was still angry with him, even in these last moments. She would not forgive. He didn’t blame her, but it cut into his heart like a knife. She had been like a sister to him, and he loved her.
Brunn returned his gaze. The large man walked past him, without faltering. The executioner was a big man, but even he had to get Brunn to stoop to fasten the noose around his neck.
Lastly, there was Sondre. He gazed at Skyresh as he walked past, a small smile playing around his lips. Skyresh smiled back. Sondre was himself, up until the very end. Just as he had smiled in the face of danger, he smiled in the face of death.
Skyresh stared back out at the crowd. The moment had come. The moment when everything would be changed.
He thought of Avalon. He remembered the way that her dark eyes flashed, and the way the breeze played through her hair. He remembered her walking up mountain tracks, her figure lithe and graceful. His heart stopped for a moment. Would he really never see her again?
He knew, in that moment, but it was all too late, and perhaps the time had never been right.
***
Everard led the horse along the dirt track, trying hard to remember the reason that he had chosen to take this path. The choice had to be made, of course, so he had chosen. And now, he had unleashed a chain of events that he could not entirely envision.
They would assume that he had been corrupted, as well. They would assume that he was sympathetic to the rebel’s cause, and that he was on their side. Only he knew the reasons he had chosen the way that he had, and it was not as black and white as that.
Yes, he had been born Stromel; he knew better than anyone the hardship of their lives and the prejudice they faced. He knew what the Jarle did to them, but he was not a dreamer—not like Gwalen and all the others. He did not believe that anyone could ever defeat the power of the Jarle. He did not want to throw away his life for an empty cause.
He thought of his parents again. Would they be proud of him now? That he had made this choice? Or would they have been prouder of his deception, passing himself off as a Jarle and a Grey Guard? They had known how hard life was as a Stromel. Surely, they would want his life to be easier?
It was impossible to know. His parents had never been active in any rebellion, but that didn’t mean, of course, that they hadn’t been sympathetic. He tried to remember if they had ever talked of it, but nothing came to mind. They had been simple people, who kept to themselves and worked hard.
It was approaching, the settlement where he had grown up.
He cautiously led the horse into the village. He shouldn’t go through it, he knew that. Anyone could see him, and if they tracked down his movements, someone could report him, but the urge to see again the place where he had grown up had overwhelmed him. He would not stay long. He was on his way to the Re-Education Center, after all.
It was bigger than when he had lived here. More huts had been built. He could see the town square in the distance. The same statue of Agnor stood in the Center, looking a bit older.
And the town hall was new, of course. He wondered when they had re-built it. Had they let the ashes settle first? The ashes of all the people they had killed that day. He and his father had been so close to being a part of that rubble. His father had died anyway, but he had survived.
He was a survivor, pure and simple.
“Greetings, guardian.”
He turned around, looking for where the voice had come from. Then he saw a man, standing against a hut with long black hair striped with grey. His face was scarred so severely from burns, it appeared to have melted. The man smiled, approaching him.
“Greetings,” said Everard, cautiously. “Hail Agnor.”
“Hail Agnor,” said the man. “What brings you to our village this day?”
Everard stared at him. This was unusual. The Stromel normally never enquired of a guardian’s movements. It was considered insubordinate.
“Business,” he replied sharply. He had to act as a regular guardian would act, or else the man’s suspicions might be roused. He was already regretting having come through the village. He should have skirted it, leading the horse down a ledge further on to re-connect with the road. He should never have been so sentimental.
“Business?” the man repeated. He continued staring at Everard, his eyes narrowed.
“Yes,” replied Everard, frowning. “It is none of your concern. I act as a guardian of the realm, whom you
should respect, my good man.”
The man kept staring at him, his eyes travelling over his face. He seemed puzzled.
“Well, good day,” said Everard, making to leave.
Suddenly, the man withdrew a sword. He pointed it straight at Everard’s chest.
“I think not, guardian,” said the man slowly. “You see, you look very like someone that I used to know. A mere lad, who disappeared from this village, a few years ago. I would like to ask you some questions. Get down from the horse slowly.”
Everard dismounted, putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “You should think carefully about what you are doing,” he said. “If you put the sword away now, I will ride out of this town, and I will not report you. You should know what the penalties are for threatening a guardian.”
The man smiled. “I do know the penalties,” he said. “But every single one would be worth it, if you are who I think you are. A traitor. An imposter. I believe I will take you to where a few other people can identify you…guardian.”
He grabbed Everard, hauling him into a hut. A few people had come out of their huts to see what was happening, but they retreated when they saw what was going on.
Everard hit the floor, hard.
He cursed himself and his own stupidity. Why had he decided to come into this village? Why?
Nothing good had ever happened to him here. For the sake of a few nostalgic memories, he had compromised what he had set out to do. Avalon was so very close, but now…now, she might as well be a million miles away.
***
The executioner stood waiting, staring at the dignitaries. Skyresh knew that he was waiting for the signal. The signal to release the lever, making the wooden planks beneath them fall away.
The crowd was silent, so silent that it was almost eerie.
The head dignitary put his hand in the air, then swiftly lowered it.
The executioner nodded. Then, he walked to the lever, putting his hands on it.
Afterwards, the people in the crowd, who talked excitedly of what happened, were never able to pinpoint the first occurrence.
Was it when the guardians and dignitaries had been surrounded? Or was it when the executioner straightened, swiftly drawing an axe from a hidden spot and plunging it into the head of the guardian in front of him?
Some watched the condemned unravel their hands from behind their backs and reach for hidden knives. Skyresh and the others cut off their nooses quickly, and before the crowd even had time to react, they were gone.
The guardians and dignitaries had been slaughtered in front of their very eyes., and their beloved leader and his people had been spirited away. At first, the crowd looked at each other, confused.
And then, the cheering started. The women took off their mourning veils and flung them into the air. The men raised their children above their heads in triumph.
The crowd turned and walked out of the amphitheater, cheering the whole way. The noise was so loud that people miles away stopped what they were doing and lifted their heads to listen.
***
Skyresh turned around, hearing the cheering. His heart lifted. Whatever happened next, this had been worth it to hear his beloved people so ecstatic.
They could not afford to slow down and listen to the triumph. Skyresh knew that word would get out very soon. They had slaughtered all the guardians, and the people would make sure that it stayed a secret for as long as possible. But when the regime discovered what had happened today, retribution would be swift. They had to get as far away as possible before that happened.
They disappeared into the woods, melting into the trees. This was their territory; they knew every overgrown track. They would not make it back to the base tonight, but Skyresh knew that there were other safe caves where they could bunker down for the night.
Eventually, they found one that was sufficient for their purposes, and they crawled into it. It was a tight squeeze. A few of the men who had been a part of the ambush had gone in different directions, but there were still about ten people, themselves included.
They lit a small fire, making sure that it could not be seen from outside, and then they collapsed.
“That was very close,” said Sondre, panting heavily. “Even having that noose around my neck will give me nightmares from now on.” He turned to the man next to him. “Why did you put it on so tight, Audun?”
The man chuckled. “I had to play my part well,” he said. “I did not want them to get suspicious of me.”
Skyresh turned to Audun. “I thank you, my friend, from the bottom of my heart.”
Audun shrugged, but his eyes glittered. “I couldn’t let you all die,” he said gruffly. “None of us could. We all knew the risk that we were taking, but it was worth it.”
Brunn laughed suddenly. “They didn’t know what had hit them! The best moment was you though, Audun. When you turned away from the lever and got the axe.”
Audun nodded. “It was split-second timing,” he said. “I had to wait until I saw that the guardians had been surrounded.” He looked over at Skyresh. “How did you all hide your knives?”
“Unfortunately for the guardians, they stopped being vigilant with us,” Skyresh said quietly. “They did not even search us before we were taken to the execution site.” He paused, frowning. “There will be severe reprisals. Agnor will not take kindly to being made a fool of.”
Audun chuckled again. “He has been made a fool of a lot lately,” he said. “I don’t suppose you have all heard about what happened to the guardian who led you to your capture?”
Skyresh stilled. His heart started to thump uncomfortably in his chest.
Minna’s eyes narrowed. “What happened to her?”
“A swift turnaround,” Audun replied, staring into the fire. “One minute, she was being hailed a hero. She even had a special ceremony in the city, and then she was taken into custody.” He paused. “Apparently, she broke into the palace, and they arrested her. My sources tell me that she stole something from the Control Room.”
Skyresh sat up. “What did she steal?”
“A piece of paper, torn from a book.” Audun stared at Skyresh. “With the location of the political prisoners camp.”
Brunn gasped. He turned to Skyresh. “Are you thinking what I am, Skyresh?”
Skyresh nodded. “Yes,” he whispered. “Avalon was going to try to save us.”
Minna laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “That is nonsense,” she hissed. “That woman is an enemy agent. Whatever she was doing, it was not for us. She was the one who led us into capture!”
The only sound was the hissing of the fire.
“I think you are mistaken, Minna,” Sondre said eventually. “Something changed her. I know she betrayed us, but I think she has had a change of heart.”
“So do I,” said Skyresh. He stared into the fire. “She has sacrificed everything.”
He turned to Audun. “Do you know where they took her?”
“Yes,” said Audun, nodding his head. “With the special cases, they don’t take them to a regular camp. They took her to what they call the Re-Education Center to try to break her and turn her back to their side.”
Skyresh’s heart beat faster. “And what happens there…if they won’t break?”
“They kill them, of course,” replied Audun.
Skyresh stilled. He stared at Audun.
“My friend, I know that you have done a lot for us today,” he said quietly. “But I have one more favor to ask of you. Can you lead me to this Re-Education Center?”
Audun stared back at him. “You mean to rescue her?”
Skyresh took a deep breath. “I do,” he said.
There was silence.
Audun nodded slowly. “I know the way,” he said quietly. “And I will lead you there.”
Chapter Eighteen
Skyresh gazed stood on the hilltop, gazing over the countryside. The weather was getting better. He could see that the snow was starting to melt in plac
es, and standing here, he could feel that the air was slightly warmer. He nodded. Good. That would aid them in their journey.
They had all roused at dawn, staggering to their feet, blinking. Skyresh had swayed slightly on his feet. He had slept, but not well. Every noise in the wilderness around triggered him, causing him to wake. That was as it should be; they were on the run after achieving a massive coup. The woods would be teeming with guardians, looking for them.
Everyone was exhausted. It had been a huge day, and he and the others who had escaped execution were already worn down. They should all be heading for the base and resting to gather their strength. Normally, in such a situation, he would have insisted on that. A weary fighter was a sloppy one and could easily make the wrong decisions.
But he didn’t have that luxury. He had to head to this Re-Education Center immediately.
He saw Brunn approaching him. The big man had circles underneath his eyes and was slow.
“What is your plan, Skyresh?” he asked, as soon as he was near enough.
Skyresh sighed. “Audun and I will journey to the Center,” he said, turning to his friend. “And you and the others are to head back to base.”
Brunn frowned. “Skyresh, I do not know if it is a good idea,” he said slowly. “You have just escaped by the skin of your teeth. The noose was literally around your neck, my friend. Why would you head back into the thick of it, all for the sake of this girl?”
Skyresh stared back out at the hills around. “She has sacrificed herself for us,” he said quietly. “She has given up her whole world, everything that she believed and held dear.”
Brunn nodded. “Yes, it would seem so,” he said. “But she also led us all into a trap. Are her beliefs really changed, or will she be swayed back again? I am yet to be convinced that she is trustworthy.”
“I have to take that chance,” said Skyresh. He sighed again. “It is difficult to explain, my friend, but from the moment that I laid eyes on her, I knew that she had a special destiny. She is somehow a central part of our rebellion, even if she does not realize that yet.”
