Freedom by Fire

by C P MacDonald

  Blayne looked at his friend and gave a grateful nod as the doors closed.

  Silently he rode the elevator up, taking deep breaths to try to calm his racing heart. He knew this was a foolish and crazy idea, but he had to keep Kessen on Dunadd! They had come too far to miss their window. Blayne wondered what Morgan would think of him now, sacrificing himself to try and save the people of Dunadd. He glanced up at the readout of the elevator, almost to the top! The plan was not to sacrifice himself, but he was prepared to do whatever was necessary to buy his friends enough time to free the Knights to retake the Palace.

  He stared at the elevator readout, watching it count down to his fate. As it reached Floor Twelve, the level of the Throne Room, they both raised their hands over their heads as the doors opened to reveal a squad of Kartack soldiers lined up in the hallway outside, all of their weapons trained on him.

  Blayne waved with a smile, “I think Kessen is looking for me.”

  Chapter 33

  Blayne’s hands were restrained behind his back but he stood stood and glared defiantly at Kessen, perched on his father’s throne. Gunn, also cuffed, stood to his right. The throne room was crowded with Palace personnel, the City Counsel, and Kessen’s usual mob of advisers. It seemed Kessen still had a penchant for dramatic presentations in front of an audience. And Blayne could tell the tyrant’s desire to be at the center of attention was still as strong as ever. Kessen was smiling down at him, obviously laughing at his attempt at a revolution. Standing to the side of the throne was Commander Tavio, his stone face glaring down at him. Blayne could see his fingers twitching on his holster, probably fighting the urge to shoot him.

  “Your Highness, how good to see you again. A few more minutes and we would have missed each other,” commented Director Kessen dryly with an evil grin. He gestured at the guard nearest to Blayne, “Release them, that is not how we treat such a respected guest of this caliper and standing.”

  Blayne knew he was just trying to goad him, to have some fun at his expense. He refused to take the bait and instead rubbed the feeling back into his wrists once they had been freed. Glancing at his wristcom, he noted the time. He needed to stall, to give his men the time they needed. Looking up at Kessen, he said, “Director, this is the last chance for you to relinquish King Lamond’s throne.”

  Kessen busted out laughing, slapping his hand on his armrest in mirth. “Ha! You never fail to entertain, do you?” Pointing his finger and wagging it at him, he added, “You’re a lot like your father, aren’t you?”

  Then Kessen cocked his head to the side with a knowing smile, “Or are you?”

  Blayne fought the impulse to widen his eyes in surprise. Kessen knew! How did he know? He glanced at the City Council, lined up against the far wall under guard. He could see select members whispering to each other, shooting questioning looks at him. On the end, his cousin Douglas was looking straight at him. His eyebrows furrowed and a inquisitive look in his eyes. Douglas moved toward him, but Blayne gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. The sight of his cousin reminded him of the secret of Douglas’s father. Blayne pushed the thought aside. To reveal that information would do nothing for his cousin but cause even more anguish. Douglas had enough to deal with knowing his mother was a traitor. Right now Blayne needed to buy time and keep Kessen here. He snuck a sideways glance at Gunn, who barely nodded his head but gave a slight tap on his wrist.

  He turned back to Kessen and announced, “Director Kessen, as the Royal Prince of Dunadd I challenge you to a duel set forth by our customs and history, for the throne.”

  Kessen again busted out laughing. “And why would I do that?” Holding his arms out wide he bellowed, “I already have the throne!” Beside him, Tavio smirked.

  Blayne looked up at him and said calmly, “But can you keep it?” Gesturing to Gunn behind him, he added, “We are just the first. Already there is another wave of Dunadds and support forces preparing to fight, expats that are coming home.” He glared up at Kessen defiantly, “And they want their home back.”

  Kessen flicked his hands dismissively, “What? More farmers? My soldiers can handle them.”

  “Your soldiers are one of the reasons they left, but the strongest reason for them to fight!” Blayne cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, an expression much like his teachers used to give him during class, “Not that long ago you said you needed Dunadd to feed your growing army. Did you consider HOW you would distribute our food off-planet?”

  Kessen, surprised, looked at Blayne in puzzlement, “Just what in the hell are you talking about?”

  Blayne grinned, he was right! Director Kessen was a master at army command and military tactics, but he knew nothing about the logistics of exports and imports! Blayne didn’t bother hiding the wide grin that broke across his face as he looked up at the throne. “The Flyer Federation,” he said simply.

  Kessen was still confused, and he was getting frustrated by it, “What about them?” he snapped.

  “The trade agreement with them to transport crops and food off-planet is with the Maxwell Family, not with the planet itself.”

  Kessen glanced questionably up at Tavio, who shrugged. It was obvious neither had a clue about what the Prince was talking about.

  Blayne continued his lecture, “In order for you to get food off Dunadd to your troops, scattered throughout the Three Systems, you need a trade agreement with the Flyer Federation. A trade deal which you, Kessen Vigil, do not have.” All the lessons he thought he had zoned out in during class as a kid came flooding back to him, crystal clear. “And since you do not seem to be aware of it, new trade deals with the Federation take months to work out. The Flyers are very patient negotiators,” he said with a smile. “So, not only are you not going to be able to feed your army, all that food will rot in the barns and storage units before you can negotiate a new trade deal.”

  Kessen eyes narrowed and his face reddened, “You’re lying,” he muttered.

  His cousin Douglas took that moment to step forward out of the crowd, “Director Kessen, I am sorry to say he is not.” Squinting his eyes just a little, he added snidely, “Didn’t my mother explain that to you?”

  Kessen snapped his head toward Tavio, “Did you know anything about this?”

  Blayne interrupted before Tavio could answer, “And Kessen? You may not want to ask him-” he said when Tavio interrupted him shouting, “Shut it, you half-breed runt!”

  A gasp rippled through the courtyard crowd, the implication of Tavio’s insult had not been lost in the excitement. Blayne knew he would have to deal with that soon, but not right now. He continued where he left off, “Commander Tavio has a plan in place to remove you from your new throne Sir. It seems he felt he deserved a promotion, and his own planet.”

  Kessen stood up and faced Tavio, “Is this true? You would stab ME in the back?”

  Tavio backed down the steps from the throne, his dagger in one hand and his blaster appearing in the other, “After I married the Princess I am young enough to father heirs, unlike you, and begin my own Monarchy for generations to come!”

  Kessen, surprised momentarily by the betrayal, recovered and pointed at Tavio, “You were my second in command, I had given you everything!”

  “Except a rule of my own, old man!” Tavio said, snapping off two quick shots at the Kartack soldiers descending upon him. The blaster bolts ignited chaos, with the crowd scampering in all directions trying to escape the throne room. But as soon as Tavio shot his blaster, the throne room doors slammed shut and Kessen’s guards stepped in front of them, preventing anyone from leaving.

  Fighting and chaos broke out across the throne room, the crowd tried to overpower the guards at the doors, Tavio was shooting and stabbing his way through the mob toward the exits, and Kessen had grabbed a dagger and was advancing toward Blayne.

  He heard his name called out over the noise of the fight and turned just in time to see Douglas toss a dirk to him over the heads of the crowd. Catching it by the
handle out of the air, he turned back toward Kessen just in time to block a knife swipe at his head. Ducking, he spun off to the side to put a few steps between him and Kessen. His eyes glanced across the room to see Gunn at a full run, tackled Tavio to the ground in a bone crunching thump.

  Kessen didn’t wait and advanced again, jabbing with the point in feints at Blayne’s throat. Ignoring the false attacks, Blayne swiped with his own at Kessen’s belly, the blade glancing off the glistening cloth.

  Kessen laughed and patted his chest, “Armor weaved jacket. It’s great protection against small blasters and ,of course, blade proof. Never leave home without it!” he smiled. In the middle of his last sentence Kessen dove in, bringing his blade down at Blayne’s chest. Blayne blocked the strike with his arm, bringing up his knee at the same time to strike the Director in the groin.

  Grunting in surprise, Kessen dropped back, stumbling in pain. “Low blow for a Prince, wouldn’t you say?” he said grabbing his crotch.

  “Fight to win,” Blayne heard himself say, but it sounded like Morgan coming out of his mouth.

  A tumble of bodies interrupted them, it was Tavio and Gunn pounding on each other with fists and feet. Although Tavio had somehow lost his weapons, Gunn never been trained on how to fight. He was slowly losing to the Aratan warrior, beaten back step by step.

  With a powerful uppercut, Tavio connected to Gunn’s chin, sending him flying backward off his feet to crash to the floor with an audible thud even over the chaos of the throne room.

  Tavio stood over Gunn, straddling him and looking down with a grin, “That was foolish, young man,” he said, pulling a dagger from his boot and holding it up above his head. Just as he brought it down, aimed at Gunn’s chest, Blayne’s dirk buried itself into Tavio’s back. A look of utter surprise hit Tavio’s face as he dropped his dagger to the floor, his hands frantically trying to reach the blade sticking out of his back. He slowly spun around and looked at Blayne in surprise. Blayne leaned in close and said, “I agree, not very sporting.” And then he added with a wide grin, “But very satisfying,” before Tavio collapsed to the floor, dead.

  Blayne yanked the blade out and spun to plant the tip of his knife under Kessen’s chin. He brought up his bracer and popped the twin barrels out to press them against Kessen’s temple, “It’s over, stand down.”

  Still clenching his crotch in pain, the Director could only glare at Blayne, the anger in his eyes flaring. “You foolish fake! Why are you fighting for a Kingdom that was never yours?. What did you think you would accomplish?” he snapped, waving at his guards who had trained their weapons on Blayne and Gunn. “We still have you surrounded!”

  As if on cue, the Throne Room doors blew open and in spilled a full legion of fully armored Knights and the Thyke volunteers. Blaster rifles and bracer guns opened up on the Kartack soldiers, taking them out before they could react.

  Blayne pressed the tip of his blade a little more firmly into Kessen’s chin and snarled, “You were saying?”

  Chapter 34

  Blayne looked down from the balcony at the throne room below, silently watching as the Palace servants scrubbed the pools of blood off the marble floor.

  Gunn, laid out on a bench next to him, groaned while he held an ice pack to his face, “Is it finally over?”

  Blayne hung his head and shook it, “Actually, not by a long shot. This was only the beginning.” He turned to look at his best friend and added, “But whatever I do, you will help me, right?”

  Gunn, confused, looked up from the bench, “What kind of question is that? Of course I will.” Then his face fell, and he asked suspiciously, “Why? What are you planning?”

  Before Blayne could continue, he heard familiar barking and the patter of big paws running down the hallway toward him. Spinning in surprise, he called out, “Skye!”

  The big deerhound, his blue eyes sparkling, bounded down the hall to pounce on Blayne, licking his face repeatedly and wagging his tail so hard his butt shook side to side.

  Rubbing the furry dog and scratching his ears, Blayne looked up at the Palace Knight who had brought him, “Where did you find him?”

  “He was lounging out in the west fields, Sire. A serf family had been feeding him.”

  Giving the lanky dog a hug, Blayne buried his face in the scratchy fur, happy to see his old friend was still alive. But also sadness overcame him because of what he had to do, and he knew he couldn’t bring a dog with him.

  Sniffing and rubbing his nose, Blayne stood up and asked the Knight, “If you would, find Sir Douglas and ask him to meet me in the throne room? Oh, and gather what’s left of the Knights too.”

  “Certainly Sire,” the Knight bowed and jogged off to find Douglas.

  Gunn, who had gotten off the bench to pet Skye, asked, “Again, what are you planning? And why do I have a feeling I’m not going like it?”

  “No, you won’t. But come with me down to the throne room. This won’t take long.”

  Together they descended the wide stairs to the room below, Skye bouncing along beside him, overcome with happiness at seeing his master.

  Instead of sitting on the throne, Blayne sat down on the stairs below it and waited for Douglas to show, absentmindedly petting Skye who had plopped down beside him.

  The Knight he had sent off returned shortly with his cousin in tow. Marching across the throne room Douglas bowed to Blayne and said, “you called for me Sire?”

  “Pfft! Stop that!” Blayne snapped, then said in a more friendly tone, “We’ve been through too much for you to start that crap.” He looked down at Skye as he scratched his ears, “Besides, you heard Kessen. Everyone heard it, but no one has addressed it yet.”

  Douglas nodded in understanding, “About Lamond not being your father?”

  Blayne nodded as he continued to pet Skye.

  Douglas continued, “I really don’t think it matters, at least to the people. You have always been the Prince, and I guess they will still consider you their Prince. Your mother was still the Queen.”

  “But I’m not Lamond’s son,” sighed Blayne. “I am not a full-blooded heir to the throne and we don’t know where Cadee is. The people of Dunadd deserve a rightful ruler. Someone who will fight for them.”

  Confused, Douglas said, “But you did fight for them. It was you who led the attack against the Aratan forces. Without you, we would have never won.”

  He stood up from the stairs and with a nod to Gunn, “But we have something more important to do. I have to find my sister, and I can’t do that as a King tied to a throne.” Blayne stepped down off the stairs and stood in front of his cousin, “And there is only one person on this planet I feel comfortable being King,” he said before kneeling down in front of Douglas with his head bowed. “I relinquish the throne to you, my dear cousin. As King Lamond’s nephew you are the rightful, full-blooded heir.”

  Gunn, at first taken by surprise, was quick to catch on and knelt in front of Douglas beside Blayne. The new King was taken back at first, then bent over to yank them up. “What are you two talking about? My mother is the traitor that got us in this mess! You can’t relinquish the throne to a traitor’s son!”

  “You’re right, your mother is a traitor. She caused my parent’s death and I will bring her to justice. But you are not her.” Blayne said with a nod of his head.

  The Palace’s remaining Knights staggering into the throne room brought their discussion to a halt. Many of the soldiers were bandaged, armor covered in blood, whether their own or the Aratan it was impossible to tell. The Knights silently filed into their traditional positions around the room.

  Blayne walked up a few steps and held up his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Sir Knights! I have asked you here to bear witness. I know you are tired, and hurting, so unlike King Lamond, I will not drag this out.” A slight chuckle rippled through the room. His adoptive father had been notorious for long-winded speeches that would put people asleep on their feet.

  “Many of you have been
instrumental in regaining our kingdom, but I must ask of you one final action.” He reached down and pulled Douglas up the stairs with him until they were standing in front of the throne. “What Kessen said is true, Lamond was not my father.”

  A gasp escaped the usually composed Knights before Blayne continued, “I only learned of this recently. And since my sister, who is a full-blooded Maxwell, is still missing I am relinquishing the throne to Douglas Maxwell.”

  Douglas looked him in the eye and stated, “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  Blayne nodded, “Cadee is counting on me to find her.”

  “On us,” interrupted Gunn stepping beside him. “She is counting on us, you aren’t going anywhere without me.”

  Douglas clapped Gunn on his shoulder, “I’m glad to see my cousin will not be alone, thank you.”

  Blayne gave Gunn a grateful nod and continued, “From what we’ve been told, your mother is the one behind Cadee’s disappearance.”

  The future King frowned, “But my mother isn’t here. No one has seen her since your father, I mean King Lamond, was killed.”

  “But when we do find her, we may find Cadee,” Blayne pointed out.

  “Rest assured, you will have whatever resources you need to track down my mother, and find Cadee. Well, you dropped a big mess into my lap that will take work to clean up, so if you will excuse me it seems I have King stuff to do.” Douglas directed the nearest Knight, "Please gather what is left of the Council, we will have to draw up the Articles of Succession.” And with a low bow to Blayne and Gunn, he left the throne room accompanied by a contingent of Knights.

  Chapter 35

  Blayne watched the sun set over the purple fields. He and Gunn had escaped to their old hiding spot at the top of the east tower of the Palace. This balcony was one of the few places they could always find peace and quiet in their busy childhoods. Reaching down, he caressed behind Skye’s ear, scratching the itchy spot that the dog loved.