by M. J. Sewall
“It was a long time ago.”
Brenddel asked, “Gordon. Do you… do you ever think you could forgive me?”
“Never,” said Ellice. The words were like an icy breeze through the room.
Brenddel sat up in his bead.
“Brenddel…” Gordon began.
“Shtt.” Brenddel said quietly, but forcefully. Silhouetted against the dim light from the small open window, Gordon saw Brenddel cock his head, listening. The sound of stealthy feet made a brushing sound on the wood deck outside their window. Even Gordon heard it over the soft melodic singing. Brenddel quietly got up, his shortknife quickly in hand. Ellice was on her feet too. Gordon followed them, putting on his knife belt and boots quietly and quickly.
Brenddel shoved the door outward and it made a bang, startling the men. They already had their knives out, the full moonlight showing at least four men. Two were still in narrow boats, the other two on their platform, knives raised. Brenddel engaged one, Ellice the other. Metal on metal pierced the quiet night.
Gordon turned when he heard the yell from the other platform. Aline appeared, letting go of the pole she had used to vault over, landing on their deck. Ardrell followed on her own pole, landing safely, her bow drawn and an arrow already flying.
The arrow hit the man farthest from Brenddel, the force felling the man from the deck and into the water. Ellice turned to see Ardrell loose another arrow at a man in the boat. The man that had fallen into the water was screaming and there were what looked like bubbles all around him, his screams cut short by the water filling his lungs. The bubbles continued after the man had sunk.
Ardrell said, “Biting fish.” Ellice was glad it was night, so they didn't have to see all the blood in the water.
Brenddel ran the other man through with his blade, pushing him into the water. Another eruption of bubbles took the man, who was nearly dead when he hit the water. The swarm of fish didn't seem to mind, devouring the man in a mound of bubbling water.
The singing had stopped, several torches lit the night behind them, from other platforms. There were two boats. One boat had a man, slumped over with Ardrell's arrow sticking out. The other was escaping toward the bank.
“Get the boats unlocked!” yelled Danette to the others.
“Can you get him from here?” asked Ellice.
Ardrell was firing her arrows in rapid order, “Too dark. It will only be luck if I hit anything.”
“We can't wait for the other boats,” Brenddel said, getting into the narrow boat with the dead man. He pushed the man overboard, careful not to touch the water. A rush of activity came over the dead man. How many fish are there? Brenddel thought. He began rowing to the shore. The platform walkways were being dropped all around, and torches began to light the night as more villagers awoke to action. Boats began to arrive, torches at each end in holders on the boat.
“Get in,” said Danette, and all piled into the two boats. “Carefully.”
Gordon looked to the water as the boat rocked. He wondered what these flesh-eating fish looked like but decided he didn't want to get close enough to find out.
They all arrived at the bank of the river and saw two boats had been pulled onto the shore. Both boats were empty. Sets of footprints could be seen; two heavy sets must be Brenddel pursuing the man from the attacking boat. They found Brenddel by torchlight only a few moments later, staring at the cliff, which was covered with a tangle of vines.
“He just disappeared,” said Brenddel before anyone could ask the question.
“Where?” Ardrell asked, her bow ready to fire.
“I don't know,” Brenddel turned to the Danette and the women with torches. “Who were these men?”
Danette answered, “Servants of the living god. They watch us from the cliff. They probably saw new men had arrived and came to take you.”
“How did they get down the cliff? These vines?” Brenddel reached out his hand to see if they would support his weight.
“Stop! Those are burning vines.” Danette warned, “They will burn through your skin to the bone, as if you put your hand in acid.”
Brenddel decided he wanted to keep his hand and withdrew it. “How then? Where did these boats come from?”
“We don't know,” Danette shook her head, “they arrive like ghosts in the night and take the men and food. Lately they come for the strongest women too. We don't know how they get up or down the cliff, or where they hide the boats. We have searched.”
Gordon took a long stick from the ground. He asked for a torch to get closer. He pushed the stick into the vines. Some white fluid came out of the vines, oozing onto the stick. The wood smoked and sizzled as Gordon carefully jammed it into another spot, then another.
“Gordon, what…” asked Aline, then the stick sunk deep into the vines.
Gordon took his long knife, “Does the acid affect metal?”
Danette said, “No, but do not let even a drop touch your skin.”
Gordon carefully cut some vines away with his own longknife. They dropped to the ground, sizzling and moving like snakes. The torch light flickered as air came from the opening.
Brenddel took a torch and peered in, “A cave?”
“Looks like it,” said Aline, “could be a large one.”
They all worked by torchlight, carefully cutting vines away until they revealed a large opening. They used their knives to move the vines away from the path. Brenddel took a torch and very carefully walked through the new opening they had cut, watching for drips from the cut vines overhead. After a moment in, he said, “You'd all better see this.”
Inside the cave, the walls had heavy nails dug deep into the rock. Ropes, chains and binding shackles hung from the wall, even a long boat hung on the wall, with space for more. Long metals rods also hung from the wall.
Brenddel took one down, “That's it. They used the rods to push the vines aside. See, they brushed them aside and the end went in those holes in the tree. Just like pulling back a curtain. From here they could carry the small boats down to the water and take men by night through these caves and tunnels.”
“That's why they are taken on full moons,” said Danette, “so they could do it at night. We should have found this sooner.”
Ellice said, “They knew you wouldn't get near the vines.”
“What do we do now?” asked Gordon.
Brenddel looked around, “We can only hope this is the only cave. I suspect it leads to tunnels going to the top of the cliffs.”
Ardrell said, “It's too dangerous to explore these tunnels at night. They know them, and we don't.”
Aline agreed, “There could be traps inside as well.”
“I'll build a fire and take first watch.” Brenddel took charge, “We'll camp on the bank tonight. First light, we will explore the cave. Tomorrow we go see this living god.”
Chapter 38: Courtyard Massacre
Crowds had gathered in the courtyard of the palace. But it was clear right away that the people were not in the same mood as when they had demanded Asa and Gordon remain their kings.
From inside the balcony, out of sight from the crowds, young King Asa listened to the sound. He didn't like making speeches, not under Trunculin when they were written for him, and not now when he was on his own. He had no way to know what the people would do. Or even what they really thought of him anymore. Things had been turning so quickly.
Inside the palace, assessing the crowd's strange moods, Mantuan asked, “Are you ready, my King?”
Asa jumped, lost in his own thoughts, “I guess it's too late to change my mind,” he said, trying to smile.
Vance smacked Asa on the back, “You'll do great, little brother.”
“Thanks, Vance. I think you almost mean that,” said Asa.
Devver said, “I still think you should wear the crown, show them who's in charge.”
“I think that would just make them angrier,” Stathen warned, “Humble works best today.”
“Yes,” said
Asa, carelessly rolling the pages in his hands. “I hope I don't forget anything. It's not like I can actually read these if lose my place.”
Mantuan said, “You'll do well, my King.”
“You can do this, Asa… umm, my King.” Devver corrected himself again.
“Are you two ready?” asked Asa.
“Ready,” said Kett.
Lyrra agreed, “As am I.”
Kett and Lyrra stood ready by Asa's side, tall and proud. They insisted on wearing their own clothes. They were clean but worn from their strange journey. Asa knew that would be easier to convince the crowd that they were actually from Aspora.
“Okay then, let's go,” Asa said as he walked out to the balcony. He had quietly walked the balcony over and over again the night before, counting the steps. The crowds could not know he was still mostly blind.
Asa could hear the crowds were massive. Kett and Lyrra saw that they filled the courtyard, there seemed to be no end to the crowds as they spilled far outside the area. This was a risk, Asa knew, the people might storm over the walls and press into the palace, but he had to appear strong and unafraid.
The choosing tower stood in the middle of the courtyard, the round stage covering it. It was customary for guards to stand on the stage when there were large crowds, but Asa feared that armed guards hovering over the crowds would send the wrong message. Lozarian tried to insist, considering the threats. But he relented. No guards stood on the stage below his balcony. Mantuan assured Asa that there were enough guards and back-up soldiers well placed in less obvious places, just in case things got out of hand.
Asa was almost surprised when he reached the edge of the balcony and the crowds mostly cheered him. Asa felt a wave of relief, but it turned into a knot in his stomach. Seconds after the cheers, a chorus of boos and hisses rose to meet him too, like angry waves lapping at the side of the palace.
Kett and Lyrra waited just out of sight as instructed. Asa's brothers and Mantuan all waited as well. They were all concerned, but the King insisted that he address them alone at first, to show he was unafraid. Mantuan stood like a statue, but inside he was ready for anything.
Asa pushed down the knot that was beginning to rise in his throat, clutched his speech, and stepped to the amplifier.
The king flattened out the speech on the flat stone, and began, “Good people of the Kingdom of the Thirteen. I stand before you a King in conflict. We all know that I was first chosen by deception, by the firstcouncilor Trunculin, for his own evil ends. I can only guess why he chose me, but we all know that his evil is gone forever.”
“It's because you're weak!” shouted one man very clearly. Devver and Vance nearly bounded out onto the balcony, but Mantuan restrained them.
A small smattering of laughter was heard, but then the crowds quieted a little. The crowds were conflicted, some were yelling that he was a liar, others yelling to let the king speak.
“I have heard it said that Trunculin's evil lingers because I am still your king. To that I say, I never wanted to be king. Many boys dream of it, but secretly I feared it. And after seeing behind the palace walls, how Trunculin ruled in secret, by treachery, I wanted none of it. It was on that very stage that I was stabbed and nearly died in front of many of you.”
Some in the crowds cheered at this. But mostly, the crowd shouted down those who would celebrate the memory of Asa getting stabbed.
“Then something strange happened. Trunculin was dead, and we set up another choosing, a fair choosing for the first time in memory. I was ready to turn the crown over to someone, anyone. But instead, you demanded Gordon and I stay your Kings.”
More boos than cheers.
“And here I stand. I am in conflict because I never wanted this, but I also agreed to serve you as King for the rest of my four remaining trials. We made a contract together. And I am proud to be one of the kings that is restoring the ideas of the first thirteen to this great kingdom!”
There were cheers, but Asa was sure there were large pockets of discontent among the crowds. He tried to ignore them.
“Now, I have news that will test us all. We will all be going through trying times soon,” he continued, “as I speak, a new threat approaches our shores.” It was time. Mantuan had Kett and Lyrra come forward.
Asa was afraid to look toward them, if he looked in the wrong direction, the crowds might suspect. He hoped they knew where they were supposed to stand, “These two brave warriors are from Aspora. They tell a terrible tale of death and betrayal. A man named Cayne is leading an army against our kingdom. Right now, an Asporan army is sailing to attack out great kingdom.”
The crowd was conflicted. There were murmurs, gasps, but still calls of liar.
“Kett, Lyrra,” Asa said, “please tell the crowds what you know.”
They came closer to the balcony edge, Kett spoke first, “What King Asa says is true. This man Cayne killed our families, entire tribes that would not join his madness. They are coming. And they come with airships from Extatumm.”
The crowds went wild. They all remembered seeing the first Extatumm airship, giant and terrible compared to their own airships. The shadow of that memory hung on the crowds.
Then two hands were clapping loudly. It was impossible to hear at first, but it quieted the crowd as it droned on, insistent. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. A man rose out of the crowd like he had the power of flight. The men and women around him were lifting him effortlessly like it had been rehearsed. He stepped off of the rising hands that lifted him, walking onto the stage, “How very convenient!” The man yelled, “Our young King here knows his days are nearly at an end, and suddenly, out of nowhere, we have an enemy about to attack our kingdom!”
Stathen quietly came forth and whispered in the king's ear. Asa answered the man on stage. “Rolem? Rolem, is it you? Why have you turned your back on the palace? You served here faithfully for years.”
“I did,” Rolem agreed, addressing the crowd, “I saw Trunculin's evil up close. But I also saw the weakness of our system from the inside. It is time for something stronger. A system of leadership that cannot be corrupted.”
Asa argued, “What's stronger than the will of the people? They chose me to serve.”
“And do you serve?” asked Rolem. “You sit behind your walls, rarely speaking to us. Have you told us how there was an attack in the palace? Men from other lands that attacked us from within? Some pamphlets tell the truth, why not you, oh powerful King? Why pick and choose what we know?”
Asa was afraid to say too much. He has kept his blindness from the people to avoid the appearance of weakness. He said, “That was no threat. We took care of it quickly.”
“So now you lie to our faces? How many guards were killed that night? Now you say there is another attack, from yet another enemy. How can we trust these outsiders?” Rolem pointed to Kett and Lyrra, “Are they enemies pretending to be friends, bringing lies?”
Kett and Lyrra looked around warily. They wanted to help, not cause more suspicion.
Asa didn't know what to say, “This… these two… warriors are brave to come tell us of an attack.”
“You just lied to all of us again,” Rolem swung his arms around in a grand gesture, as though they were his people, “lied to us about the attack inside the palace, and now you would have us believe this? I say you have proven how many true lessons you learned from Trunculin!”
Mantuan came forward to object.
Asa shouted, “So instead of a King, chosen from the people, you will declare yourself rulers? You sound like Trunculin!”
The crowds considered the point.
“No, no, my King,” Rolem said smoothly, “a council of equals. Thirteen members, like the original thirteen, ruling together for the benefit of the people.”
“And how about the two councils we have now?” Asa asked. “We have worked hard to end the corruption there. How would they…”
“Have you, my King? The trials of the corrupt continue nearly half a year later
. Some have even gotten pardons by you. The corrupt, pardoning the corrupt!”
Asa answered weakly, “But… but they were councilors that helped us get the most corrupt. And some were falsely accused…”
“Ah, another convenience,” said Rolem, growing more forceful, “Weren't we told that the people would be chosen to fill the councils? The same well-connected men sit the councils, no new members have been chosen from these good people. The result? Our markets have less to sell, goods move in and out of the harbor at a crawl. Filth in the streets, less than half of the streetlamps work, dirty water in some villages, no work for us.”
Mantuan charged forward. “Yes, we've had setbacks. Change takes time.”
Rolem accused, “Ah, the real power behind the boy kings! Oh, hail the great patched one. Why talk to the King at all, when we all know you're really in charge now!”
“That's a lie,” Mantuan roared, more forceful than he meant to be, “I serve the Kings as advisor.”
Rolem answered, “Don't you mean as Firstcouncilor? A new one still has not been chosen. No - that's you true role, the one eyed Trunculin!”
“No!” shouted Mantuan.
But the crowds were getting louder, clearly behind Rolem, he said, “Trunculin has been dead for half a year. You've had your chance, oh great warrior behind the kings. It is time for new ideas, new leaders.”
Then more people rose from the crowds. They appeared to float up to the stage, all at once, as Rolem had. It almost seemed like a troupe of dancers gliding up to the edge of the stage. The representative members of the Council of the Thirteen formed a circle and faced the people.
The crowds all cheered at the spectacle. Rolem got louder as he spoke, “We few represent the Council of the Thirteen. We will open the palace to you, the people. When we rule, you will all have work, enough to eat, access to that which is yours!”
The crowds cheered louder.
“But first,” shouted Rolem, turning his finger to point at the King, “Let the boy lay down the crown he never wanted. Let the people choose their new leaders here today!”
