Fractured Earth Saga 1: Apocalypse Orphan

by Tim Allen

  They left the Nanna camp a short while later. Wolf took long strides that required Nala to run to keep up with him. He stayed in front of her to avoid the temptation of staring at her curvy figure as he worked to burn off energy.

  They made the journey in half the usual time, and Nala was flushed and breathing hard when they reached the plain before the castle gate. The fields were deserted; Waylan’s army had been brought into the castle except the roving Nanna warriors. Once Wolf and Nala were inside the gates, they dispatched a runner requesting an audience with Onel to report on their meeting with the Nanna queen. They proceeded to Wolf’s quarters, next to the holo-tent, and found Leesa dressed in Nanna leathers, practicing with a whip and knife. Reon was asleep on a cot, and Trulane was eating a chunk of meat.

  “Where’s Brithee?” Nala asked.

  “She is with the Nanna, my sister,” Skylla answered from a darkened area of the tent.

  “What? Why is she there?” Nala asked in alarm.

  “She deserves to be. Her skill rivals yours, my sister, and she mastered most of the advanced skills while you and Wolf were gone. Brithee is very adept…she disarmed me several times yesterday, and I couldn’t touch her,” Skylla admitted with a rueful smile.

  “I knew she would be,” Nala said, accepting the news with a note of regret in her voice. “I have seen her move, but I tried to ignore it. I will try her skills myself to be sure she is ready.”

  “You will see she is more than ready, my sister. But Leesa will require six months before she can run with the Nanna.” Skylla walked over to the girl and gave her an affectionate hug.

  “I will make you proud, Mother,” Leesa vowed with a bright smile. “I will become as good as Brithee, I swear.”

  “I am already proud of you, my darling. I love you and nothing will ever change that,” Nala answered.

  “Mother, I cannot be a Nanna, but I would like to fight as you do. Can you teach your eldest son some moves?” Trulane asked. He chuckled and added, “Aunt Skylla gave me a whipping yesterday because I laughed at Leesa when she whacked herself with her whip.”

  “You liked it, Trulane,” Skylla teased. As much as she had tried to dislike and ignore Nala’s boys, she was growing fond of them.

  The family reunion was going well until Haakon walked out of the tent, spewing rancor. “Whores! Sluts! Nanna filth! How I wish I had never sired any of you. I committed a terrible sin. I hate all of you. I pray you are slaughtered in battle,” he shouted.

  Skylla glared at Haakon with outright hatred and drew her dagger. Nala grabbed her arm and said, “No Skylla, he is my husband. The right to first kill is mine.”

  Skylla jerked her arm away and hissed, “I swear to you, Nala, if he insults me again, I will kill him where he stands.” Skylla spat at Haakon and stormed away.

  Wolf quickly crossed the room to Haakon and grabbed him by the shoulder, pushing him back into the ship. As he walked the man back to his cot, he demanded, “What is wrong with you, Haakon? I don’t like the person you have become. You are my guest here, and as my guest, you will refrain from verbal abuse of your family.”

  “I will leave here today—their presence sickens me. If you want that Nanna slut, take her and those abominations she calls children. I want their stench out of my nose,” he said, gritting his teeth. Then he collapsed. Wolf picked him up and called out, “Syn, Haakon has collapsed. Meet me in the medical bay.”

  “I am already waiting, Commander.”

  When Wolf entered the room, Syn grinned and remarked, “Nice outfit, Wolf. You must tell me about its origins.” She looked him over from head to toe, gave him a throaty laugh, and teased, “Sexy ass.”

  “Syn!” Wolf exclaimed, pretending to be shocked but grinning broadly. As he placed Haakon on the medical cot, his wristwatch dropped to the floor and he said, “Damn. I must have damaged my watch when I fought the water creatures.” Picking it up, he activated the Syn hologram accidentally. He shut it off, but Haakon’s eyes were open, and he saw the hologram. He shut his eyes and pretended to be unconscious, listening.

  “Dalla’s defection from Jonar is good news. She will make a powerful ally,” Wolf said. “Nala is coping well—or she was until this fool came out.” Wolf gestured at Haakon and added, “He is lost to us. His mind is poisoned. It's a shame. He was a respectable man with a beautiful wife and a family that would make any man proud.”

  “A beautiful wife who happens to be in love with you, Wolf.”

  “You find that funny, Syn? I don’t.”

  “Don’t tell me you aren’t attracted to her. I monitor your vitals…I know she arouses you. I’m not too jealous, though…I’m willing to share,” Syn said, laughing softly.

  “You and Nala will be the death of me,” Wolf sighed. “Have you learned anything more about the sonic device that knocked me unconscious?”

  “No, Commander. It must be the harmonics. Somehow the sound softens your body. I am still working on it, but I’ve been busy with other things. I also have debris from that explosion to sift through.”

  “Come, let Haakon sleep,” Wolf said. “I will talk to him again later, and maybe I can talk sense into him. I also want to shower and meet with the king. Is he up yet?”

  Haakon continued to eavesdrop as Syn and Wolf walked to another part of the ship and their voices trailed off. When he could no longer hear them, he climbed off the cot. He was recovering well, thanks to Syn’s treatment, and he wasn’t hurt as badly as he had acted.

  On a whim, Haakon picked up the pouch that held Wolf’s ripped clothes from the floor and emptied it. Then he grabbed several random items from a nearby table—Wolf’s wristwatch, the M21 pistol, and the Bowie knife—and stuffed them in the pouch. He ran to the exit and peered outside, but drew back when he saw Skylla and several others gazing out over the city as the citizens below prepared for siege. In the distance, smoke rose from the countryside as barns and forests burned. Jonar had arrived.

  After a few minutes, Haakon exited the tent and looked down the stairs. A Nanna warrior guarded the corridor, standing with her back to him. Driven by insane delusion and convinced that he was among enemies, his sole concern was to escape this place alive. He knew the Nanna warrior could kill him without much effort if he attacked her head on, but he also knew it was his duty to kill every Nanna he encountered, and this one had to die.

  Searching around, Haakon spotted a statue of a man holding a small child on a nearby shelf. It was about sixteen inches tall and weighed at least ten pounds. Grasping it in one hand, he approached the woman from behind and struck her in the head, knocking her senseless. He fled down the stairs, blending in with the palace staff and functionaries. He made his way to the outer gates of the castle, where the guards recognized him as Wolf’s friend and allowed him to pass into the hostile lands that would soon be occupied by Jonar’s army.

  Chapter 27

  King Waylan was lying in bed asleep as Nurse Syn explained to Wolf, “I’ve increased his sedative dosage. His body is developing a resistance to it, and he keeps waking up. The dosage I’m giving him now would knock out a dinosaur.”

  Syn adjusted an IV and remarked, “His blood work is unusual. My scans detected several properties and compounds I can’t identify. If I didn’t know better, I would say he is not of this world. Other than you, I have never seen someone whose body regenerates so rapidly. Since I removed the broken sword tip from his leg, he appears to be rejuvenating and getting younger.” She handed Wolf the sword tip and he examined it, running his thumb over the inscription.

  “What’s this writing etched into the metal?”

  “I haven’t been able to decipher it. The metal is made from an iron compound found in meteorites. It’s ancient.”

  “He is a remarkable man,” Wolf said. He handed the metal shard back to Syn and picked up Waylan’s chart, glancing through it.

  Syn filled a syringe and inserted it into the IV. “This should bring him around in an hour or two. I’ll monitor him and le
t you know when he awakens.”

  Just a few drops of the medication had infused into the IV when Waylan’s eyes fluttered open and he demanded a draught of beer. Syn served the king water, which he sipped and spat out, demanding a beer.

  “You can’t have a beer. It’s not good for you.” Syn answered in a tone she might use to lecture a child.

  “Woman, I can have whatever I want in my castle, and right now, I want a beer. I’ll fetch it myself if you don’t get me one.” Waylan grinned at Wolf and added, “Can I get you one?”

  Syn went to a nearby cabinet and took out a wine decanter and chalice. She poured a half-glass of wine and handed it to Waylan, who tasted it and declared, “This wine is excellent! You must teach my brewmasters how you make it so. Without a doubt, this is the best wine I have tasted in a long time.”

  As Syn attempted to feed Waylan, he grabbed her breast and patted her bottom, using both hands in a single movement. She turned to view a monitor panel on the wall, exposing her backside to him, and he gave her a playful slap. She moved out of his reach as Waylan and Wolf both laughed.

  “My lord, are you sure you are up to a frolic with me? I can be quite frisky myself,” Syn teased as she slipped down her top and exposed her full, perfectly formed breasts to the king and Wolf. Waylan dropped the chalice of wine in his lap, staring wide-eyed, and Wolf’s laugh trailed off into a shocked, jealous frown. Both men remained speechless for a moment, and finally, Syn said with a smirk, “I thought not,” and pulled up her top.

  “Sire, back to business,” Wolf said, deflecting the monarch’s attention from Syn’s breasts to more pressing concerns. “Dalla, the Nanna queen, has joined with us. Her warriors are out in the countryside as we speak hunting down Jonar’s ruffians and outriders.”

  “Excellent news! Tell me, is Queen Dalla as lovely as they say?”

  “What did you give him, Syn?” Wolf asked with a chuckle. “He’s a randy old goat now.” “No, my friend, I am pain-free now. It has been many years since I felt this good. I need good beer, good food, and maybe a good woman,” Waylan replied, winking at Syn.

  “Lecher!” she shot back with an amused grin.

  “You do excellent work, Syn, and I thank you…but when can I leave this place? I want to sit in my throne room and discuss the plans to defend the castle against Jonar.”

  “Let me check your incisions,” Syn answered. Waylan grinned but became serious as he caught a warning look in her eyes. She checked under his bandages and saw that several of the incisions were nearly healed. The staples she had used to suture the large incisions near his ribs were pushing out, so she removed them. She passed a scanner over the rapidly healing surgical wounds, and her face held a hint of confusion as she glanced at the readings.

  “If you help him, Wolf, he can leave now. I will give him meds and a shot of antibiotics to prevent infection.” Syn pulled several packets from a cabinet, administered an injection, and removed the king’s IV line. He stood, hugged Syn, and walked from the room unassisted.

  “That is one tough man,” Wolf observed with a grin.

  “Much about him intrigues me, Commander. It’s as if he has been enhanced genetically.”

  * * *

  Syn and Wolf walked back through the ship and noticed Haakon was not on his cot where they had left him. Wolf assumed that the man had gone for a stroll, perhaps to clear his head and cool his emotions. Syn went out to the roof to talk with Nala and several women congregated around her, while Wolf and Waylan proceeded to the stairs. When they reached the landing, they looked down and spotted the unconscious Nanna below. Wolf bounded down the stairs and saw that the woman was bleeding from a large gash at the back of her head. He quickly checked her pulse and detected a strong, steady beat at her throat. As he examined her for other injuries, he noticed a statue lying on the ground nearby, broken in two pieces.

  Wolf lifted the woman and carried her up the stairs and into the tent, announcing, “Syn! We have an emergency. The guard we posted on the stairs has been attacked. There’s an intruder in the castle.”

  Waylan followed Wolf into the tent, muttering, “I am surrounded by traitors!” He was furious that guests in his castle now had been attacked twice.

  Syn was waiting for them in the medical bay and directed Wolf to place the woman on the examining table. She scanned her and said, “She has a concussion, but she will be fine. What happened?”

  “She was struck in the head with a small statute. Someone tried to sneak in…or out.” As Wolf said the words, he knew in his gut what had happened and declared, “Haakon! Quick, let’s get back to where we left him.”

  They ran back to the room where Haakon had been quartered. As Wolf entered, he told Waylan, “My lord, please make sure no one comes inside.”

  The king nodded and positioned himself in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and an angry scowl on his weathered face. Wolf searched the room and quickly discovered his M1 was missing, and so was his new wristwatch. “Shit!” he cursed. “We must find Haakon at once! He has taken several very dangerous items from me,” he informed Waylan, bristling with anger. He was furious at Haakon but even more upset with himself for misjudging the man he had called his friend.

  “I will go to my throne room and order the gates sealed,” Waylan said. “We will search every inch of the castle. Come, Wolf.”

  The two men left as Syn treated the wounded Nanna warrior and then activated a tracking device on Wolf’s stolen watch. She detected that it had already been taken from the castle, and Haakon would soon be in the enemy’s hands.

  “I have located the watch, Commander. It is outside the castle,” Syn said in Wolf’s ear.

  “Sire, go ahead,” Wolf told the king. “I need to check on something. I will meet you in the throne room.”

  Waylan continued down the stairs, still unsteady on his feet. When he was out of earshot, Wolf said, “Damn it, Haakon was pretending to be asleep when we talked. He knows too much. Can you lead me to him, Syn?” he asked with a sense of foreboding.

  “Yes, but he will be in Jonar’s hands within the hour, and twenty thousand men surround the castle.”

  “Shit, can this get any worse?”

  “Perhaps,” Syn answered stoically. “Time will tell.”

  * * *

  After Haakon passed through the gates to the plains outside the castle, he started talking to himself. As he recalled the conversation he had overheard earlier between Wolf and Syn, a jealous rage swept over him and he flailed his arms in the air, yelling, “That bastard has a fine woman and now he craves the Nanna whore who deceived me. I have consorted with a harlot and fathered filth. She deceived me with trickery and now tries to lure me back. Never will that whore set eyes on me again. And the outsider—even his own whore laughs at him for wanting to possess both women at once. He is not the warrior of legend. He is an impostor. I will stop his witch from casting spells by taking his toys and breaking them.”

  Haakon walked on, crushing leaves and snapping twigs underfoot, making no attempt at stealth. He was jabbering to himself and waving his arms like a lunatic as a band of ruffians drew closer. When they were within striking range, they jumped Haakon from behind. He struggled until one man hit him over the head with a club and knocked him out cold. One of the attackers was about to cut his throat when Sylvaine materialized and hissed, “Hold your strike, fool. That is the traveler’s friend. Gather his belongings and follow me.”

  The ruffians collected the items Haakon had stolen and hoisted the unconscious man from the ground, handling him like a sack of grain. After walking a few miles, they came to a well-ordered camp. It was set up in Roman fashion, with four gates, one at each end. Inside, straight rows of tents wrapped around the camp in a square. The outer perimeter was protected by a wide ditch lined with sharp stakes. The men took Haakon to the largest tent at the center of the camp. It was guarded by several hulking warriors dressed in ancient, silver armor. Sylvaine ordered the men to drop Haakon’s body by
the entrance, and then he dismissed them. He picked up the pouch that contained the stolen items and stepped into the tent, announcing, “Sire, I have found someone and some objects that are very interesting.”

  “What have you found, my friend?” asked a voice. The man who stepped out into the light was black as coal. His features were finely chiseled, and his face had an aristocratic quality that hinted of African royalty in his lineage. He had short, straight black hair, tapered at an angle on the sides and back, giving a layered appearance and held in place by a small golden crown. He smiled, revealing straight white teeth and asked, “What have you brought me, Sylvaine?”

  “Do you recall the outsider who destroyed an army of ruffians and thwarted our early occupations?” At a nod from the man, Sylvaine said, “I have his friend and these things.” He removed the objects from the pouch and spread them on the table in front of Jonar. The man’s eyes glowed with excitement as he saw the items, and he said, “Bring our new friend inside. I want to ask him about these. I am very pleased with you, Sylvaine.”

  Two guards dragged Haakon into the tent and dropped him face up on the floor. Sylvaine picked up a basin of water and dumped it in Haakon’s face. The man lurched to a sitting position, sputtering, and he looked around with a jaundiced eye.

  “Where am I?” Haakon demanded when he saw Sylvaine gazing down at him.

  “You are in the camp of Jonar, rightful ruler of the world,” Sylvaine replied.

  “Jonar! Where is Jonar?” Haakon cried out. He laughed insanely and struggled to his feet, swaying unevenly.

  Sylvaine pointed a grimy, unwashed finger at the dark man and answered, “This is Jonar, master of the world.”

  “I am in the presence of Jonar?” Haakon mumbled, squinting at the man. He erupted into hysterical cackling as Sylvaine glared at him.

  “He is mad,” Jonar said with a chuckle.

  Suddenly lucid, Haakon replied, “Mad? Am I mad? No! I have seen the evil. It lies in the castle of Waylan. The man everyone calls a hero talks to shadows. His woman disappears and makes copies of herself. She is beautiful but evil, and like my wife, she is a whore.” He rambled on for several minutes, insulting the Nanna and everyone he knew.