by Jenny McKane
Brunn raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure that it is not just because she is beautiful and charming, my friend?”
Skyresh laughed softly. “She is all of those things,” he said. “And I understand your concern—that I am letting my heart rule my head. I do believe that somehow we are linked.” He paused. “But that is not the primary reason. I would never endanger my people for the sake of a romantic attachment to a woman. Brunn, I think that she was a Queen.”
Brunn gasped. “What do you mean?”
“I had a vision,” Skyresh said slowly, “at the camp when I was in the cell. An old Storyteller appeared before me, telling me a tale of an owl and a Queen and a baby that was taken from the arms of an older Queen.” He took a deep breath. “The Storyteller told me that Avalon was that baby.”
Brunn was silent, as he digested the information. “We always thought that all the Queens of Masgata were killed.”
“We did,” said Skyresh. “But one survived—and Avalon is her. I do not know if she realizes it yet, but when she was with us, she was plagued by dreams, which distressed her, and when I took her into those temple ruins, I witnessed her having a vision.”
Brunn had tears in his eyes. “I see now why you did it,” he said quietly. “I never understood why you didn’t just kill her. Yes, you must go and try to save her. She is important for all our people. I will accompany you.”
Skyresh shook his head. “No,” he said. “I will not endanger you and the others any further. I will take Audun. He knows the way. You must all head back to the base and gather your strength.” He paused. “This is something that I need to do alone, Brunn.”
Brunn nodded. “As you wish. You are our leader and what you have just told me has only strengthened my trust in you. I will convince the others, do not worry, but promise me that you will be careful.”
Skyresh turned to him. “I am never careful,” he said. “You know that. I operate by instinct, and I am lucky that the instinct is usually right. We can never hope to win if we are careful, Brunn.”
Both men turned at a sound behind them. Minna had come and was staring at them both, frowning. She was very pale.
“I will leave you both,” Brunn said and walked away.
Skyresh gazed at the woman. She was staring hard at him, and he could see tears glinting behind her eyes.
“You are really going to do this?” she said quietly. “For her?”
Skyresh nodded. “I must, Minna,” he said. “I know that you don’t understand. Please, trust me.”
Minna swallowed painfully. “I have never been able to sway you,” she said. “I will not try now.” She took a deep breath. “Skyresh, there is something that I need to know…”
He stared at her. “What is it, Minna?”
“Are you in love with her?” She held her breath, staring at him.
He gazed back over the hills, not answering. He didn’t see the flash of pain that came over her face.
“I will leave you,” she said, her voice trembling.
He turned and put his hand on her arm. “Minna, you have to know how much you mean to me,” he whispered. “We have grown up together. I will always love you…like a sister.”
Minna laughed softly. She turned away so that he couldn’t see the tears that had started running down her cheeks. She walked to the cave, furiously wiping her face. She didn’t look back.
“Ready?” Audun had approached.
Skyresh nodded. Both men raised their arms in farewell to their comrades, then disappeared into the shrub.
***
Everard stared at the man. He was tied to a chair in the hut that he had been dragged into.
“Let’s start from the beginning,” said the man, circling the chair. “You are a guardian of the realm, and yet you are not Jarle.”
Everard gritted his teeth. “I have already told you,” he said. “I am Jarle. My name is Guardian Everard Varr, and you are committing a crime, intercepting me.”
The man laughed. “I do not care about that,” he spat. “Let me tell you a story, guardian. You see, many years ago, a tragedy occurred in this village. Sickness had swept through it, and the guardians decided that to contain it, they needed to kill everyone. To stop it from spreading.” He paused, staring down at Everard. “When I say kill everyone, I mean just the Stromel, of course. The Jarle who lived here had been infected, too, but they were spared.”
Everard’s heart started thumping in his chest. He stared straight ahead.
“There was a farmer and his son,” said the man. “Everyone assumed that they had died in the fire that killed most people, but it seems that wasn’t the case. You are the spitting image of the son of that farmer, who was of course Stromel, which means, guardian, that you are impersonating someone else, someone who was born Jarle and could become a Grey Guard.”
Everard didn’t answer.
The man drew his sword again and placed the tip on Everard’s neck.
“Tell me the truth,” the man whispered, pressing harder. “It is your only chance to live.”
Everard stared at him. “It is true,” he said. “I am not Jarle. I am the person you think I am. I took a risk to save myself and my father from certain death. We escaped the hall when we realized what they were doing, but a Jarle pursued us. I killed him and took his identification. He had wounded my father, who ended up dying anyway.”
The man laughed. “I knew it,” he said. “And so, to survive, you became the enemy.”
“I did,” said Everard, nodding. “It seemed the only way. The only chance I had to begin again and lead the life that I wanted.”
The man pressed the blade harder into his throat. “How can you live with yourself? You were one of the Stromel! You know what they do. They were intending to kill everyone. So many died that day. The only survivors were those who fled to the hills before they could be rounded up.”
Everard swallowed. “Judge me as you will,” he said, his eyes hard. “I took my chance when it came. Yes, I was one of you, but I knew that if I continued living as a Stromel, my life was already over. I would be killed, or if I had lived, I might have a family, who would be treated the same way as my own had always be treated. It is the world, and nothing can ever change it.”
The man was silent for a moment. “It can change,” he said, quietly. “It will change, but only if we stick together and continue to defy them.” He glared at Everard. “People like you are the reason it is taking so long.”
Everard laughed bitterly. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” he said. “I have deserted my post. When they find me, they will kill me, so you might as well get it over and done with now.”
“You are a deserter?” The man glared at him, lowering his sword.
Everard nodded. “My partner on a previous mission has been arrested,” he said slowly. “She was taken to a camp, not far from here. It is the reason I came through the village. I have to get to her before they kill her.”
“The Re-Education Center?” said the man. “Why was your partner taken there?”
Everard sighed. “It is a long story,” he said. “She was captured by the rebel leader Gwalen in the Far North, and she led him and his people to capture, but she switched sides and broke into the palace to try to find out where he was taken.”
The man’s eyes widened. “I have heard of this story,” he said. “This guardian was honored at a ceremony in the city, but I did not know that she has since been arrested for treason.”
Everard nodded. “I still don’t understand what happened to her,” he said. “And I will be truthful with you. If it wasn’t for her, I would have continued being a guardian. But I was part of the reason why she was caught. I could have washed my hands of her; in fact, I almost did. I was heading out on a new mission, but I found I couldn’t do it.”
The man stared at him, assessing. “You are sure that she has been taken to this camp?”
Everard nodded, again. “I saw it, on a letter, to my commander,” he said. He
glared at the man. “I don’t care whether you believe me or not. You have made up your mind about me. As far as I can see, you can either kill me now, or you can let me go and do what I need to do. It no longer matters. The life that I knew is over either way.”
The man chuckled. “Don’t feel so sorry for yourself, guardian,” he said. “You have been living a life of privilege on the backs of all those who are oppressed. Maybe the Goddess is finally leading you on the right path. Perhaps you have a chance to redeem yourself.”
Everard didn’t answer. He suddenly felt so weary, he could barely keep his eyes open.
The man turned to him suddenly. “Do you know this camp at all?”
Everard’s eyes flew open. “No. I am not familiar with it.”
The man nodded. “Perhaps, again, it is your lucky day,” he said. “My wife is a laundry hand in that camp. I know the layout of it.”
Everard gaped at him. “You will help me?”
The man pondered this. “I may, but it would not be for your sake,” he said slowly. “I am yet to believe that you are sincere in changing sides, but I would be willing to take a stand against the regime. Any blow to them is a win for us.”
Everard took a deep breath. “I do not even know your name.”
The man chuckled, again. “Yes, you do,” he said. “The scarring has changed my appearance only. I used to be known as Bersi Ekman.”
Everard started. “Surely not?”
“Yes,” the man nodded. “I was once Jarle, too, guardian. Until I saw what they did that day. I got a chance at another life – a better life. Most wouldn’t see it that way, of course. They would wonder why I gave up a life of privilege to live the life of a Stromel. My name is now Ored.”
Everard couldn’t believe it. This man had once been a ruling Jarle in the village.
“You got caught in the fire?” He stared at the scars.
“Yes.” The man touched his face. “I was a part of rounding everyone up and sending them to their doom, but as the flames grew, something happened. I saw a vision of the Goddess in the fire, beseeching me. I knew then. I rushed in to save them, and my life changed completely.” He stared at Everard. “So, we are the same,” he said softly. “A Stromel who became a Jarle, and a Jarle who became a Stromel. That is why I am giving you a second chance.” His voice wavered. “Because anyone can be redeemed.”
***
Avalon wandered around the overgrown square, staring at the banners around her.
She was led into the square every day at the same time. Teacher Gaia had told her that everyone needed fresh air. Sometimes, there were other people strolling around. People like her, in drab grey gowns. They never spoke to each other, or even looked at each other. They knew, thought Avalon. Just as she knew. They were all being watched, and if they attempted to communicate even in the smallest way, they would pay the price.
She stared at a weed, growing against the fence line. It had bright yellow flowers that could almost be considered pretty. What was the difference between this plant and one that was prized? It was just as beautiful as some. Was it only because it grew randomly and could not be controlled that it was considered dangerous?
Just like her, she thought. Once she had started thinking for herself, her mind had grown away from the tight constraints that had always been placed on it. That was why they didn’t allow even a smidgeon of independent thought. For once, one seed had been allowed to enter, they could not control which way it would grow.
She shivered, dreading what was to come. She knew the routine now. Mornings were devoted to her sessions with Teacher Gaia. Then she could come out here. There would be a small lunch; they were not allowed much food. The afternoons were the worst. Every single one was different, but it was all the same: torture exercises that were designed to break the spirit.
She stared up at the sky. Dark clouds scuttled across it. Her heart lurched, thinking of Skyresh. Was he dead? Had they killed him and the others? It was hard to admit it, but she knew in her heart it was probably true. The thought of it filled her with a sorrow so deep; it was like a stone in her heart.
She had been angry, at first, after Teacher Gaia had brought that woman in, claiming to have been charmed by Skyresh. She had felt a fool. But then, she realized that it didn’t change anything, even if it was true. Regardless, the regime was evil and corrupt. He hadn’t lied about anything, and she knew in her heart now. She knew her dreams were of her real family, from the Time Before.
She slowly walked over to the weed with the yellow flowers. She stared at it then picked a single flower off it, twirling it around in her hand.
The weed would keep growing. It didn’t matter how many times it was pulled out or crushed to the ground. There was still hope.
The gate opened. A guardian stood there, gesturing to her that it was time to go back inside.
She walked slowly past the guard, not looking at him. It was truly awful to think that she had once been just like him. That she had been a mindless drone, programed to do whatever they wanted. Yes, she could have ignored the truth. Even after she knew, she could have turned a blind eye and continued her life of privilege. She could have told herself that she couldn’t hope to change anything anyway. It would have been far easier.
And now, she would probably die—because she could not even pretend to them that she would come back to their way of thinking. It had occurred to her, of course, to just lie to them, and tell them what they wanted to hear. That she had seen the error of her ways. That would be easier, too.
But it wouldn’t be the truth. And if she had come this far, she must go all the way. If Skyresh and the others had died for this, then she must find the courage to, as well.
The guard led her to a small room at the end of a long corridor. He took out a key and opened the door. She flinched, as she slowly stepped forward. Every day she had to find the courage to endure from a place deep within.
She pressed her fingers against the flower, still in her hand.
***
Audun looked at the sky. “We are close,” he said. “If we take this way, we should get to the back of the camp within an hour.” He looked at Skyresh. “What is your plan once we are there?”
Skyresh paused for breath. They had been travelling all day. At first, they had skirted through the woods on foot. Then, they had briefly stopped at a remote hut, where Audun knew the people. They had offered them horses, which had been a blessing. They had been able to travel much quicker.
“We will distract them,” Skyresh said, “so they are not guarding.”
“How?” Audun stared at him.
“You will see,” said Skyresh. “You said you know a safe place in a village nearby?”
Audun nodded. “Yes,” he said. “The man I know used to be a Jarle, but he is now on our side. He has a bunker below his house. He often shelters people on the run. If we can get to it, we can lie low there while they are searching for us.”
Skyresh nodded. “That is what we shall aim for then,” he said.
They spurred the horses on, down the hill.
Skyresh saw the fortresses of the camp through the trees. They were almost there. Would she still be inside? Or had they already killed her? There was simply no way of knowing, and no time to find out. They tethered the horses a safe distance away then crept through the woods, approaching the camp.
“Are there patrols?” Skyresh whispered, his eyes scanning the camp.
Audun nodded. “Always,” he said.
They heard breaking twigs behind them. They drew out their swords and swiftly turned.
There were two men before them. Skyresh stared, taking in their appearances. One had long black hair and a face so scarred from burns the features looked melted. The other was tall and had dark hair, tied back. He wore the uniform of a Grey Guard.
“Ored!” gasped Audun, lowering his sword. “By the Goddess, what are you doing out here?”
Ored grinned. “I could ask you the same thing, Audu
n,” the man replied. “You are the last person that I expected to see in these woods.”
Skyresh turned from one to the other. “I think you must tell me what is happening, Audun. Who are these people?” He looked at Everard. “Why are you with a guardian?”
“Let us convene,” said Audun quickly.
“I know a spot,” said Ored. He turned, gesturing for them to follow.
They got to an overhanging ledge and crouched beneath it.
Audun turned to Ored, grinning. “It has been a long time, my friend,” he whispered. “And it is lucky that we have found you here. We will need your help, after we have done what we have come to do.”
Ored stared at him. “Anything, my friend, but we are on a mission ourselves.” He turned to Everard. “This guardian has deserted and wants to rescue his former partner, who has been taken to this camp.”
Audun and Skyresh stared at Everard, assessing him.
“That is strange,” said Skyresh slowly. “For we are here to rescue someone, too.” He turned to Everard, his eyes cold. “Who is it that you wish to rescue, guardian?”
Everard stared at Skyresh. “Why should I tell you? I don’t even know who you are.”
Ored gasped suddenly. “By the Goddess, you aren’t who I think you are, are you? But…you were captured! I heard that your execution was happening.”
Skyresh grinned. “Things change,” he said.
Ored turned to Everard. “This is the one they call Gwalen,” he said. “The rebel leader that you spoke of from the Far North.”
Everard’s face darkened. “It isn’t possible,” he whispered. “You were in a camp. You were scheduled to be executed.”
“As I said, guardian,” Skyresh hissed, “things change. You say you have deserted?” He drew out his dagger and held it against Everard’s chest. “Why should we believe you? And you haven’t answered my question. Who are you here for?”
Everard’s eyes glittered. “I am starting to think it is for the same person,” he hissed back. “A former guardian, who captured you and your people. Shall I say her name?”
Skyresh lowered his dagger. His blue eyes darkened. “You are telling me that you were the guardian who partnered with her in the Far North? The one who escaped us?”
