The King's Scrolls

by Jaye L. Knight

  Fingering the cruel-looking whip, the General faced Jace again. “You will receive forty lashes. You’re deserving of far more, but I’ll let the emperor make that call.”

  The soldier who’d brought Jace forward unclamped one side of his shackles and proceeded to pull off Jace’s coat, jerkin, and shirt. Kyrin couldn’t take it. She struggled against Marcus, who took hold of both her arms to keep her still. But he couldn’t restrain her voice.

  “Grandfather, I beg you, please, don’t do this!”

  The man didn’t even look at her.

  “Please,” she cried out again, but it was Jace who responded with quiet acceptance.

  “It’s all right, Kyrin.”

  She shook her head. Tears clogged her throat and strangled her voice. “No. No, it isn’t.” He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have to endure this. Oh, Elôm, why?

  Her pain had no effect on her grandfather. He was too devoted to the belief system he’d followed so unwaveringly all his life. Apparently, not even family could turn him from following through with his dedication to what it demanded of him. No wonder Marcus hadn’t swayed having lived under such influence.

  The soldiers led Jace to the post, chaining his arms up over his head. He rested his forehead against the post and closed his eyes. Though he outwardly portrayed acceptance, the muscles in his shoulders and already-scarred back tensed. Kyrin could barely hold back the burn of tears. This was so wrong. She begged for intervention. She couldn’t bear to see him harmed like this. Hadn’t he endured enough undeserved ill-treatment?

  The two soldiers backed away, and the General just stood for a long moment, during which Kyrin’s stomach churned and threatened to come up.

  “Liam!”

  Kyrin flinched at the force in her grandfather’s voice.

  Nearby, Liam snapped to attention. “Sir?”

  The General thrust the whip toward him. Liam looked from it to his grandfather’s face, his brows bent in confusion.

  The General scowled. “You will administer the punishment to the traitor.”

  Kyrin’s heart stalled again as Liam’s face went white. His eyes widened, and he stammered, “Sir . . . I-I’m just a foot soldier.”

  “And you’ve been given an order; now obey it!”

  Kyrin and Liam both flinched this time. Marcus’s grip around Kyrin’s arms loosened, and she fought to pull away from him. Maybe he could just stand there and watch, but she couldn’t. She had to do something—for Jace and for Liam. But Marcus caught her arms again. Beside her, Kaden, too, struggled to break free.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” Marcus whispered sharply in her ear, though a tremor distorted his voice.

  Kyrin still strained against him as she watched Liam. His shoulders sagged under the weight of the situation. He cast a hesitant glance at Jace and then at Kyrin. Holding her gaze a moment, he drew his shoulders back. His eyes returned to the General. “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t.”

  Shocked murmurs passed through the soldiers, though they instantly fell silent. Anger ignited in the General’s eyes. The leering tower of a man seemed to grow several inches as he straightened and fully faced his grandson. Even Liam couldn’t match his height.

  “Are you refusing to carry out a direct order from your general?” His voice was like ice about to break.

  Despite the rage building in the man, Liam was no longer pale, and strength filled his eyes—strength that Kyrin had never seen before. He knew exactly what he was doing and had full confidence in his decision. “Yes, sir, I am.”

  Pride burst through Kyrin’s chest, but fear drowned it just as fast, and she trembled over what would happen next.

  The General’s face flushed a dangerous shade of crimson. “Parker!”

  The lieutenant hurried forward. “Sir?”

  His voice very even, but edged in a murderous tone, the General ordered, “Disarm this man and bind him. For his insubordination, he will share in the traitor’s punishment.”

  A blast of cold struck Kyrin’s core. She pulled against Marcus. “You have to do something! You have to stop this!” She looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of his eyes. His resolve was shaken and revealed his uncertainty, but he shook his head.

  “He’s the general. I have no power in this.”

  Hot tears pooled in Kyrin’s eyes and coursed down her cheeks. He could at least try. Their brother and her best friend were about to be cruelly and unjustly punished. How could he not even try voicing his doubts and reasoning with their grandfather?

  Helpless, she watched Parker strip her brother of his weapons and uniform, finally attaching shackles to his wrists. Liam stood unresisting and in full acceptance of his fate. Kyrin then looked at their grandfather, who stood so cold and unfeeling. Deep, painful anger burned away the coldness inside her. Had he no heart? Instead of any remorse, he only muttered callously, “Finally shows some guts and it’s wasted on rebellion.”

  The soldiers secured Liam to the same post, just opposite Jace. Parker glanced uncertainly between Liam and the General and cleared his throat. He spoke, but it took a few words before his voice gained strength. “Liam Altair, soldier of His Majesty’s army, you’ve been found guilty of insubordination to your commanding officer. The punishment for such is twenty lashes—”

  “Forty,” the General cut in. “Forty lashes.”

  Parker hesitated and glanced at Marcus.

  “He directly defied his general in front of every man here,” the General said, in response to his hesitance. “It will be forty.”

  “No!” Kyrin cried out. Every time she thought she had witnessed the height of his cruelty, he surpassed it. “You can’t do this to them!”

  The General turned, his gaze landing with solid force on Marcus. “Captain, you keep her silent. I don’t care how.”

  Marcus squeezed her arm to gain her attention. “Kyrin, do not make me have to gag you.” His voice lacked its usual strength.

  Kyrin’s face contorted helplessly, but Kaden took up her protest.

  “You accuse Jace of being an animal, without even knowing him, and then you turn and engage in this kind of cruelty?” He wrestled against the soldiers as he locked eyes with his grandfather. “You’re the monster.”

  “Silence!” the General bellowed. “Unless you wish to join them.”

  “No!” Kyrin cried again in desperation. She couldn’t bear that. Not Kaden too.

  “Then both of you had better hold your tongues!”

  He watched for any sign of disobedience, seeming almost hopeful that Kaden would cross the line. Kyrin held her breath, biting back the outcry to echo Kaden’s assessment of their grandfather. She glanced over at her twin. He had his jaw clenched, but his fiery glare never left the man.

  Satisfied, the General turned back to Parker. “Carry on.”

  Parker cast one more glance at Marcus, but his captain remained silent, so he continued with Liam’s sentencing. “You will receive . . . forty lashes. Do you understand the charge and the sentence?”

  Looking right at his grandfather, Liam answered, “I understand.”

  With this, the General passed the whip to Parker. The lieutenant was hesitant to take it, but he didn’t dare refuse. He walked around the post and stopped behind Jace, who reached up to grip the chain of his shackles. When Parker let the whip uncoil, Kyrin had to choke down her stomach as it lurched toward her throat. The first lash cracked, and Jace jerked. Kyrin pressed her hands over her mouth to stifle the sob that ripped through her chest. After the second lash, she shut her eyes tightly and bowed her head, her shoulders shaking. She could not force herself to watch. Hearing was painful enough. She covered her ears with her hands, but couldn’t shut them tightly enough to block the crack of the whip or the cries it finally tore from Jace, despite how strong he was.

  It seemed to stretch on for a miserable eternity—first for Jace and then for Liam. Tears ran through Kyrin’s closed eyelids to feed the steady drip from her chin. She didn’t kno
w if she could take any more when everything finally fell silent except for her own choking breaths.

  She opened her eyes. The sight of blood and torn flesh blurred in and out with her tears, and her stomach wrenched violently. She squeezed her eyes shut again, faintness washing over her. Marcus’s grip tightened on her arms as she swayed. Unconsciousness would have been a relief, but it passed. She cowered at the General’s close voice and opened her eyes. He stood before her and Marcus now, blocking her view of Jace and Liam.

  “Take them inside. I’ll be there shortly.”

  He moved away as Marcus guided Kyrin around toward the fort. She caught one more glimpse of Jace and Liam’s wounds as they turned—a sight that would haunt her always.

  Ragged, halting breaths were all Jace could manage as the pulsating pain of a thousand exposed nerves radiated across his back. His throat ached from every cry that had been ripped from him, in spite of his fight to restrain them. He’d been determined not to show such weakness, but the pain had torn away his strength, mirroring the agony he’d once endured as a teen and had wished to die from. Even here, his mind had begged for unconsciousness to take him. But even worse was that Kyrin had to witness it.

  The cold breeze bit into his blood- and sweat-dampened skin and sent tremors through his muscles. The spasms only intensified the pain, and he clenched his teeth against the unbidden cry rising in his throat. On the other side of the post, the soldiers released Liam, who groaned softly as his arms lowered. The lieutenant, Parker, took one of his arms to support him and guided him toward the fort. At the sight of the long, inflamed welts and raw wounds crisscrossing Liam’s back, Jace’s stomach turned.

  The other soldiers dispersed among the tents. Would they just leave him here in misery? Then the squish of footsteps approached, and a soldier unchained both of his wrists. He let his arms down slowly, barely stifling a groan. When he turned, he found the General still standing there with a group of six soldiers. They each gripped the hilts of their swords and watched him as if prepared for a wild animal attack.

  The General flung his shirt at him. He caught it out of reflex, but this time couldn’t hold back the groan at the pain it ignited.

  “Dress,” the General ordered. “Either that or you can freeze to death. It makes little difference to me.”

  Jace held his stone-cold gaze for a moment and then looked down at his shirt. To get it on would be torture itself. Steeling himself, he stuck his arms into the sleeves and raised it up. He bit his lip, almost to the point of drawing blood, to keep from crying out, and his eyes watered, but he got it over his head and pulled the hem down over his exposed skin. Immediately, he felt the blood on his back soaking into the fabric. The General tossed over his jerkin next, and then his coat. He managed to get them on, but the soldiers jeered and mocked every show of pain he let slip. By the time he finished, the effort and the pain left him dizzied.

  “This way.” The General marched off through the camp.

  When Jace didn’t move right away, one of the soldiers prodded him forward. Blinking hard to keep his vision from wavering, he followed the General. But they didn’t head in the direction of the fort. Jace glanced back at it. “What are you going to do with Kyrin?” His raw voice lacked the strength he intended.

  “My granddaughter is none of your concern,” the General practically growled back at him without pausing.

  Jace looked back again. She was his only concern.

  They did not stop until they reached the edge of camp. Here, several sets of stocks were set up—all empty and waiting. The soldiers brought Jace to a halt as the General finally turned to face him. It was hard to stand up completely straight, but Jace managed, gritting his teeth and trying to keep his breaths from shuddering.

  The General’s eyes bored into him. “I don’t know how much influence you’ve had in the choices my grandchildren have made, but I aim to see that you suffer for it, as will any others who are responsible.”

  A fist smashed into Jace’s ribs from the right. His breath left his lungs in a gasp, and the sudden tensing of his muscles shot fire through his wounds. Before he could recover, a second soldier punched him hard in the jaw, and he fell to his knees. Heat flared in his chest, but not hot or fast enough as the soldiers struck him again and again, with the General looking on.

  The sound of the whip and anguished cries still echoed in Kyrin’s ears. How many more pieces could her heart break into before she couldn’t bear it any longer? Hysteria threatened, willing her to scream and cry until the pain was spent, but she fought it back. She couldn’t lose it here. Somehow she had to be stronger than that.

  “Jace.” Her voice came out so clogged it barely rose above a whisper. She tried again and forced her words through her tight throat. “I want to be with Jace.”

  But Marcus did not slow or respond.

  Kyrin tried to look back at him, but stumbled as he kept her moving forward. “Where is he?” Would their grandfather just throw him back into a cold cell, wounded and bleeding?

  Still, Marcus would not answer. Inside the fort, he and his men led her and Kaden into a bleak meeting hall, where two heavy chairs sat apart from the others. He motioned to one of them. “Sit down.”

  Kyrin sank weakly into the chair without resistance. For Kaden, however, the soldiers had to wrestle him down into it. Once they were both seated, the soldiers chained their wrists to the arms of the chairs. Having completed his task, Marcus stepped back and faced them. His mouth opened as if he meant to speak, but he hesitated, and Kaden beat him to it.

  “Are you satisfied?” He was too angry, and would never cry in front of his brother or grandfather, but his voice echoed unshed tears.

  Marcus grimaced. For the first time, anger glinted in his eyes as emotion finally broke through. “I didn’t choose this for you. You did by your own actions.”

  “You brought us here!”

  “I had no choice.” Marcus’s voice rose. “You betrayed the emperor, not me.”

  Shaking his head, he turned and strode from the room, leaving the other soldiers to guard them.

  Kyrin let her head fall back against the chair as small, hitching sobs caught in her throat. Oh, Elôm, why is this happening? Why couldn’t Marcus see?

  Beside her, Kaden gave an angry cry and yanked his wrists against the chains, but they held fast . . . thankfully. Kyrin shuddered at what their grandfather might do if he actually managed to break free.

  They waited for several minutes before heavy footsteps echoed in the hall. Kyrin fought to compose herself. Tears had already proven worthless with her grandfather. Anger coiled inside her chest instead. After all, he was the reason Marcus so blindly followed his duties. Their grandfather had pressured him since childhood. And their grandfather had caused the pain and division in their family. A small voice admonished her that anger was the wrong reaction, but she’d rather be angry than sniveling.

  Their grandfather strode in a moment later. “Leave us,” he commanded the soldiers.

  They nodded and walked out. The door closed with a deep thud, and the General faced Kyrin and Kaden, his fists on his hips.

  “We have much to discuss and very little time for you to make the right choice.” Always he spoke as a commander, never a grandfather. “Tomorrow morning, a prisoner transport is leaving for Valcré. I’d rather not put you on it. With my influence, I believe I can get you a pardon if you convince me and the emperor of your repentance. You’ll start by reestablishing your devotion to the gods. Then I’ll take you before the emperor, where you’ll also assure him of your devotion and cooperation.”

  A ringing silence followed, broken by Kaden’s disgusted tone. “You really expect our devotion and loyalties to be swayed so easily?”

  The General’s eyes narrowed to dark slits. “I expect you to use some common sense. Your lives are on the line, and I won’t see you throw them away for nothing.”

  “It’s my life to lose. I won’t have it dictated by you.”

 
; The General scowled. “You’re a child. You don’t have the wisdom or experience to see the foolishness in your actions.”

  Kaden shoved himself up, his chains rattling as they pulled tight. “I’m not a child. My childhood was stolen a long time ago when Kyrin and I were forced into Tarvin Hall, something you probably had a lot to do with.”

  Kyrin shrank into her seat as the General stepped closer to face Kaden. His bulk and height were especially daunting as he glared down at him, but Kaden was by no means intimidated, and stood his ground.

  “Apparently, it did little good if we’re even having this conversation. I clearly should’ve paid far more attention to your training.”

  “So you could control me the way you control Marcus and Liam and the rest of the family?”

  “Kaden,” Kyrin cut in. She was angry, too, but not so much that she couldn’t see her brother was taking it too far. Her fear for him quickly outgrew her anger, but he didn’t seem to hear her. Please protect him, Elôm!

  The General stepped closer yet, so their faces were now only inches apart. “You should’ve learned duty and respect.”

  “I respect those who deserve it.”

  Kyrin gulped at the way their grandfather’s fist tightened. Would he hit Kaden? He looked to be considering it but, instead, he shouted out, “Guards!” To Kaden, he snapped, “You need time to cool off and get some sense back into your head.”

  The doors opened and the soldiers marched in.

  “We’ll take him to the stocks,” the General told them.

  Kyrin straightened. Don’t leave me alone! They unchained Kaden from the chair and shackled his arms behind his back. As they guided him to the door, he looked back at her with remorse in his eyes, but it was too late now.

  Kaden yanked against the soldiers as they led him through camp, and he glared at the General’s back. How could the man even be family? How could he order the merciless beating of two innocent men, one of them his own grandson, and then just expect to order Kaden and Kyrin to deny their faith? He strained against his shackles. Every muscle in his body was wound up to fight. He hated being powerless, especially when others were suffering.