by M. A. Roth
“Everyone leave,” Morrick orders, I don’t want to be around him, anyway. But he stares at me while speaking. “Not you.”
I hold my head high to hide and stay where I am. I have to tell myself he’s the only way home. I don’t have to be nice to him, but I won’t give him a reason not to keep to his word. If he even has a word.
Nobody seems to move. “That is an order.” The room clears. My mother lingers as she walks past me, but I don’t acknowledge her. I’m just not ready yet to face her, my anger is too much so I just stare straight ahead at Morrick, and then we’re alone.
“Sit down, Sarajane,” he says as he takes a seat.
“I prefer to stand.” At least if anything happens, I can run. The feel of the dagger in my boot gives me some comfort, not that I know how to use it, or would, but it’s a comfort that I need right now.
“I was trained as a guardian from the age of five in hopes that one day I would be king. Our training was harsh compared to now. The king at the time was into dark magic, always seeking more power. He brought darkness upon our lands. So many died of starvation or the plague. King Paulus held public hangings every week against people that had not committed crimes, but no one dared to question him or they might find themselves with a noose around their own necks.” Morrick’s isn’t looking at me and for that I’m grateful.
“Nierra was head guardian at the time and he was to step up as king. Bellona loved him. She was still a princess, but soon she would be queen.” Morrick’s eyes fill with a look I can identify as grief, it was a look I saw in my own father’s eyes, the day the Gardas arrived at our door, to tell us our mother hadn’t been found. Each time the door bell rang, he would fill with hope, but the despair once he closed the door, hung heavily on his shoulders.
“Nierra was my closest friend; he was a brother to me.” He takes a deep breath. “When it became King Paulus’s time to step down, he wouldn’t. Power, he ached for it. So he murdered Nierra, leaving his own daughter heartbroken. Bellona shut down after that and coldness crept into her soul. I became next in line to be king, so I knew Paulus would kill me or I must kill him first.” Morrick rises and pours red wine into a goblet. He drinks it down in one quick gulp. He keeps his back to me while still holding the goblet. “We rebelled. In all the commotion, King Paulus got away, never to be seen again. But now rumours of him gathering an army have surfaced.” Morrick turns to me then. “I never loved Bellona. She wasn’t capable of love, and she was rightfully my best friend’s. I need you to know you were conceived from love. I truly love your mother.” His words are like a balm to a burn, they calm me slightly but it still doesn’t justify what they did. I was more upset about finding out I was born from an affair than knowing I had a different father. But I don’t believe I could ever look at this man as my father. Not now anyway with my cheek swollen and bruised. The throbbing reminds me of what he did. We stand in silence. Maybe he’s waiting for me to say something.
“Sir, the horses are ready,” Legis says from the exit.
This takes Morrick out of his daze. “Thank you, Legis.” When Morrick returns his gaze to me, it’s not as soft as it was a moment ago.
“We have to leave. Bellona is aware we are here and when Clive doesn’t return, she will come,” Morrick says leaving the rest of that sentence in the air. ‘When she discovers her son is dead.’ My stomach churns now as my gaze glides to the floor where he lay.
“Where are we going?” I ask flicking my gaze back to Morrick.
“Aquaterra. I have loyal friends there who will protect us.”
“You mean protect you,” I say and want to swallow my words. Morrick’s jaw clenches and I take a small but noticeable step back, his eyes widen before he looks away.
“I mean protect you Sarajane. Clive must have been sent here to hurt you, maybe even hurt your mother.” Could I blame him for his anger? His father having an affair with another woman, and this was a time of Kings and Queens.
“I don’t see what one person could do?” I say. I want out of these caves, but not to be taken to another strange places.
Morrick laughs dryly. “The queen, King Paulus and an army of exiles, which I believe you have already encountered.”
I shiver at the memory of the creatures, which wanted to eat me. “What are they?”
“Criminals who have been banished to the mountains for their crimes.”
Disbelief ripples through me. “You’re saying they once were human-looking?”
“That’s exactly what I am saying.” How was that possible that a human could disintegrate into that twisted creature? I had to remind myself that no one here was exactly human. The thought pops up then that neither am I. I look away from Morrick hating that I got pulled into his conversation.
“We better go.” There is a moment when I wonder where my mother is but as Morrick leaves the caves, I follow. Getting out of here feels good. I just need to keep my head down and I’ll be home soon.
Legis has the horses saddled and waiting. I blink at the harshness of the light, but my eyes settle on my mother who’s already outside. I hate that she left me with Morrick, she didn’t seem to care that he struck me so why would she care if he did it again.
My head snaps up as Morrick informs Tristan that I’ll be travelling with him. I am looking from Morrick to Tristan but neither are looking at me. Letting out a heavy breath that I know they hear, I approach the horse. With a thud Tristan lands on the ground beside me and lifts me effortlessly onto the horse before he smoothly gets on himself. Show off.
I’m faced with his broad back. “There was no paper in the study,” he whispers to me as we wait for everyone else to saddle up and they are all doing it more gracefully than me.
I saw it, read it and held it; someone must have destroyed the paper. But who? And why? Does it matter?
“I made it all up,” I tell Tristan’s back.
He swings around, his eyes ablaze with anger. “You made it up?”
“No. But you think I did so what’s the point in explaining myself when you’ve already made up your mind?”
His anger subsides. “I don’t know what to make of you, Sarajane.”
Heat creeps into my face as he stares at me with furrowed brows. I feel so exposed under his stare, but it doesn’t last much longer as I’m faced with his back again. I let out the heavy breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. My mother rides with Legis. I’m surprised she’s not glued to Morrick. She glances over at me and I snap my head the other way.
So I’m facing Alana who’s riding with Liber and Kiar and Neve each have their own horses. Neve’s hands are bandaged, but he doesn’t seem to struggle to hold the reins.
We start moving, my hands flutter to Tristan’s sides and he tenses under my touch, the heavy material of his clothing is like leather, but it’s cold. I don’t have a choice but to hold on as we start to move. We’re moving slowly over the rocky area. I don’t like the silence of this place. It’s something I noticed the moment I arrived in the desert. It was void of wildlife. No one speaks and Tristan doesn’t relax under my touch which irritates me.
I’m glad when Neve rides up beside Tristan and me and gives me a grin filled with mischief. If I was staying here I could imagine him as a friend. “How’s your back?” he asks.
“Still stiff, but I’ll survive.”
I glance at his hands. “Your hands?”
“Sore, but I’ll survive.” A big grin spreads across his face, making his nose look more crooked than usual. I can’t help but laugh.
“You’re a bad influence, Neve,” I say.
He tries to hide his smile. “It was your idea.”
I snort at that.
“No, Neve, it was your bright idea to show off,” Kiar says, riding close to us.
Neve looks embarrassed. “Things go wrong, even with the best of us,” he says, causing Kiar to laugh.
“Yes, I have heard of people with level three fire affinities sending rooms up in flames, nearly killi
ng people.” Neve’s face is bright red. Kiar loves teasing him, but the reality of what could’ve happened plays on my mind.
“If you ladies are finished talking, we are going through the mountains soon. So try to be alert.” Tristan’s voice holds a bit of ice in it.
I roll my eyes at Neve, but his face remains serious as he answers Tristan. “Yes, sir.” He falls behind us with Kiar. I want to punch Tristan for ruining the only good thing I have in this godforsaken place.
Moving through the mountains is painfully slow. Everyone is on edge. When the creature attacked me in the desert, I remember Tristan saying he was a long way from the mountains. I just prayed to God he didn’t mean these mountains. I wrap my arms further around Tristan and when he tightens under my touch, I loosen it. My mother looks back at me then, her eyes catching mine, and I miss her. My throat burns, but my face still hurts, and that’s enough of a reminder for me of what she allowed to happen. I didn’t expect her to do anything to Morrick. But she stood beside him, her actions speaking so much louder than any words could. The silence stretches out and I’m shifting in my seat. I need to get off this horse, but that doesn’t happen. Darkness rolls in along with a cutting wind. I hang onto Tristan closer, this time when he tenses I don’t let go, I soak up his body heat.
“We will reach camp in one hour.” Tristan’s voice is low, but it carries along the wind. It’s weird to hear his voice after the silence of the last few hours. No one has spoken.
My teeth are chattering from the cold. “O… k… aay,” I reply through numb lips. The horse under us starts to get uneasy; it slows down suddenly. “Are you stopping?” I whisper not sure if Tristan has heard me. The neigh of Neve’s horse draws my attention to the left just as Neve’s horse rears up nearly throwing him off. Morrick’s booming voice renders me frozen with fear.
“Exiles.”
CHAPTER NINE
SARAJANE
The horse under us starts to grow frantic, and shifts to the left, I’m clinging to Tristan just to stay on.
“Sarajane.” His voice is quick as he unwinds me from him and jumps off the moving horse, leaving me with nothing to hold on to. The horse rears back and I try to grab its mane, but my fingers slip through and I go tumbling to the ground. Strong arms wrap around me just before I hit the ground.
“Stay behind me,” Tristan says as he releases me and pushes me back with his hand. I want to remind him that it was his fault that I nearly fell off the horse, but he withdraws his sword and that silences me. My eyes shoot over our group who all have taken battle stances and withdrawn their weapons. My head snaps left then right as I search for the exiles.
“Move in closer,” Morrick calls to us from his horse. Of course he stayed on his horse. My mother and Alana are behind Liber and Legis. Neve and Kiar stay close to Tristan and me. I crouch down, removing my dagger from my boot, not that I know how to use it, but I feel a bit safer with it in my hand. Everybody’s breathes forms white clouds in the cold air. The horses have started to settle down.
“Maybe they were just passing,” Legis says up to Morrick.
But we all move in closer. My hands become slick with sweat, contradicting the bitter cold night. I rub my palms on my trousers to dry them. An ear-piercing screech breaks the night’s silence. I want to close my eyes and curl into a ball and let this all pass. I’m looking everywhere but I see nothing. Another screech splits the air and everyone shifts, getting ready.
Now as I glance over at my mother, I see the fear on her face that I feel. The silence now is worse and I want to shout come out now and just do it already. I have to wipe my hands on my trousers again as a new coat of sweat soaks them. The next screech that sounds is too close, the hairs rise on the back of neck. I shift towards Tristan just as they charge.
I’m frozen as they run at full speed down the side of the mountain towards us.
The thought that these things once where human is even more frightening. The first one to reach us literally runs into Tristan’s waiting hand where his neck is snapped. I crouch down, feeling sick, and focus on the ground. All I can hear every few seconds is their dying screeches, but they keep coming. They don’t seem to be slowing down.
Kiar roars in pain beside me. One of the exiles is hanging on to his leg by its teeth.
I don’t think but run over against Tristan’s protests and dig my dagger into its eye. I let the dagger go as my stomach heaves. The exile immediately releases Kiar and stumbles back, squealing.
“Thank you,” Kiar says, looking slightly green. I don’t look at his leg as my stomach isn’t holding up so good.
Another one races for me. I have no dagger now. I back up and hit the stone wall of the mountainside. I can see all the exile’s teeth; its mouth is wide open, ready to bite. He freezes an inch from my face and crumbles to the ground, an arrow sticking out of the back of its head. My eyes meet Morrick’s. He just nods and continues to fire his bow.
Neve fights two exiles to my left, and Kiar is wide open, I manage to grab him under the arms and drag him back towards the mountainside. He’s hissing in pain, but I don’t stop. Legis, Liber, Neve and Tristan tighten in front of us, while Kiar,my mum, Alana and I stay behind them. Morrick flanks to our right, firing arrows from his horse. There are too many; they will tire us out soon.
“Kiar, give me your sword,” Alana says in a stern voice.
Kiar laughs through his pain. “You’re a girl, not a warrior.”
“Don’t say I didn’t ask nicely.” Before Kiar can respond, Alana punches him in the face, knocking him out. She kicks his sword off the ground into the air and grabs it. If that were me, I would’ve lost all my fingers. She gives me a grin. “I will have to help protect you, princess.” She pushes her way between Neve and Tristan and fights.
Neve is knocked off a bit by the sight of Alana fighting, but he recovers quickly. Tristan gives no reaction. Typical. I have a newfound respect for Alana. She’s a quick and graceful fighter; she moves easily as if she knows their steps before they even attack. I watch as she and Tristan share a knowing look. A pang of jealousy surprises me as I watch them fight side by side. Alana is beautiful, sharp and can protect herself. I make myself useful and check on Kiar’s leg; it is bleeding pretty bad. I don’t have a clue what to do.
“Mum,” I call and she comes to me straight away. “We need to stop the bleeding. We need to get his belt off.” I’m talking while I unbuckle his belt from around his waist, which holds five fighting knifes. He was really expecting trouble. The next part I can’t do so I hand the belt to my mum. Our eyes meet briefly but we don’t have time. She tightens the belt around his leg just above the bite to slow down the bleeding. Taking off her own cloak, she presses it against the wound. A chunk is missing from his leg, displaying shredded tissue. My stomach coils, but I manage to keep it down.
I’m looking around me and hope surges as the exiles seemed to have lessened. Tristan and Alana are still in the thick of it. But they are taking them down like they aren’t moving creatures. It seems effortless. If I wasn’t in the middle of this, I would almost admire the skill before me. The fighting dwindles. Tristan and Alana finish off the final few, and when the last one falls my body drains. “You have quite a talent, Alana,” Morrick says with pride in his voice.
Alana blushes, something I didn’t think she was capable of. “Thank you, King Morrick.” She bows her head.
“Saddle back up. We need to leave before more return,” Morrick tells us while turning his horse. Tristan helps get Kiar up on Neve’s horse.
Since Kiar’s horse is vacant, I jump up on it awkwardly. I took riding lessons when I was younger so hopefully I can still remember. Once I’m up, I feel proud. Alana isn’t the only one with a hidden talent.
No one passes any comment; only Tristan barks orders at me to stay in front of him. Alana glances around at me. I give her a grin and she snaps her head back around. Riding is more exhausting than I remember. My thighs burn in no time from holding my body to sui
t the rhythm of the horse.
Moving through all the exiles’ bodies is disgusting. Not one of them survived. My mind wanders back to what Morrick said about them being human. How long would it take for someone to get so disfigured that they resembled a creature?
After having no sleep last night, my body slumps but the thoughts of the creatures attacking has me sitting back up again. The wind seems to have settled down, but it was nicer riding with Tristan, to have him as a barrier between me and the elements. I didn’t miss him for any other reason, I tell the lie.
Once we pass through the mountains, we hit the desert at full speed. Light shines in the distance; a camp is set up with two fires burning and several tents are erected.
As we race closer, a man stands, waiting on us. The closer we get, the faster my heart pounds. I know this man. I’ve seen him in my dreams. This wasn’t possible. I can’t take my eyes off him even as Tristan rides up beside me.
“What’s wrong?” He asks. We’re too close to camp for me to explain. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know where to start.
Morrick reaches Mirium first and embraces him.
“Nothing,” I reply to Tristan just as we reach Mirium. I slow my horse down and get off as gracefully as possible, which isn’t graceful at all. Mirium is greeting my mother when his eyes fall on me. He pulls off the wise old wizard perfectly, with his long white hair and beard. He holds a staff in his left hand and a long royal blue cloak frames his body.
“Sarajane.” He bows his head slightly to me.
“Mirium.” I bow back.
My mother looks startled. “You know Mirium?” I don’t know why, but I lie. “No, I heard you use his name.”
My mother gives a relieved smile. “Of course.” I don’t return her smile; I’m still too angry with her. Tristan and Neve pass me, carrying Kiar to the closest tent. They greet Mirium as they pass.
“Come. Food is ready,” Mirium says to the rest of us. A young girl no older than sixteen hands us a bowl of stew and a roll of bread each. She smiles and gives everyone friendly greetings.
