Silverbrook

by J C Maynard

  The judge looked up at Kyan. “Let us hear the girl speak . . . the snakebites on both of their necks are damning evidence itself, but if Miss Srine here can testify to us today that Mr. Kyan is indeed the leader and founder of the Nightsnakes, I should be so inclined to pardon the worst of her crimes so that her life may be spared.” Silence spread over the room. Judge Ratticrad spoke again. “Miss Srine?”

  Vree lifted her head pulled her hair out of the dried blood on her mouth and cheek. Tears streamed down from her swollen eyes.

  Kyan closed his eyes, not believing what was happening. He hoped that Raelynn behind the courtroom doors could hear and had a plan.

  The judge took a step toward Vree. “Miss Srine,” he said, “Is Mr. Kyan the leader of the Nightsnakes?”

  Vree looked up to the balcony where the Guard held Kyan. With tears and blood still covering her face, she shook her head.

  Ratticrad raised an eyebrow. “Answer verbally young miss.”

  Riccolo took a step back and looked straight at Kyan.

  Vree shook her head again between coughs and sniffs mumbled. “No . . .”

  The hundreds of spectators gasped, turning to each other and whispering. The judge took another step toward her. “Miss Srine, you are under oath, and perjury will send you to the gallows along with your other crimes if you do not tell the truth.”

  Kyan shouted from the balcony, “She’s telling the truth!”

  “Silence!” yelled Judge Ratticrad, who stood above Vree and spoke softly. “Tell me who the leader of the Nightsnakes is.”

  Vree turned around and stared straight at Riccolo, who’s eyes widened for a fraction of a section before returning to normal.

  The judge laughed. “Mr. Aldas? The man who captured you? Why would he risk coming here?”

  Kyan yelled down to Vree, “His collar!”

  Vree spun around and lunged at Riccolo’s neck, but Riccolo grabbed her wrists and threw her down against the stone with a smack. Deathly silence hung in the room, and then it was pierced by Riccolo’s laugh. “They think I’m the Lord of Thieves?” Riccolo walked toward Vree who lay on the ground, unable to get up. He looked up to the balconies and raised his voice. “Then surely I would have the mark!” Riccolo then turned his head to Kyan and stared straight into his eyes as he carefully lowered his collar.

  Kyan’s heart sank as Riccolo’s neck was revealed, without any trace of a snakebite.

  More Guards surrounded Kyan and the chambers erupted once more into chaos. Riccolo knelt down next to Vree and whispered in her ear. “Bites are easy to cover with just a bit of powder.”

  Riccolo raised his hands and addressed the roaring crowd. “It seems as if Kyan’s last attempt at saving himself has failed! What a shame — Ms. Srine’s loyalty to Kyan is dooming her. I believe that my case is closed.”

  Riccolo stepped back and the judge sat back down at his stand. “Thank you, Mr. Aldas.” Ratticrad looked at Vree once more. “Miss Srine, if you choose to admit that Mr. Kyan here has been your leader of the Nightsnakes, your execution will be pardoned and you will be given two years of prison sentence. If you do not, you will join Mr. Kyan at the gallows tonight.”

  Kyan’s heart raced as Vree looked up at Kyan with a blood and tear covered face. The whole courtroom looked at her and Kyan. Vree shook her head and let out another sob, staring at Kyan. Taking a deep breath in, she screamed, “Run!”

  In one instant, Kyan kicked back the Guard holding onto him, and the whole hall erupted in screaming. Raelynn slammed through the doors and into the crowd. A man next to Kyan drew his sword, and, seeing no other way out, Kyan hurled himself over the balcony fifteen feet to the stone floor below. Kyan rolled once he hit the ground, and his body stung from the fall.

  Riccolo ran over to Kyan to grab him, and Kyan dove at Riccolo’s waist, tackling him down. Dozens of guards drove through the mass of screaming people to try and get to Kyan and Vree. Riccolo drew a dagger and Vree kicked it out of his hands. Far above, Raelynn pushed and shoved, trying to make her way down the staircase to the courtroom floor.

  Kyan pushed off of Riccolo. Trying to locate the doors as hundreds of people began to rush after him, Kyan bolted away for the back doors that lead outside. Hundreds, including Raelynn now covered the courtroom floor, trying to grab Kyan as he sprinted away. Vree vainly tried to run from Riccolo, but he grabbed her by the wrist and threw her down, slamming her head into the stone. Vree’s body went limp, and Riccolo lunged for his dagger. Snatching it off the ground, he raised it above Vree’s unconscious body

  “NO!” screamed Raelynn as she fought her way through the hundreds of frantic people. As Riccolo brought down the dagger, Raelynn tackled into his side and a sharp pain sliced through her arm. Wrestling Riccolo away from Vree, he stabbed at Raelynn, who rolled backwards across the stone, bleeding from her arm.

  A group of Palace servants running out of the courtroom trampled over her body, pounding her limbs into the stone floor and bruising her ribs. A boot slammed into her head and knocked her dizzy, sending back to the floor. Straining to stand, she looked around for Riccolo, scanning the hundreds of moving faces and bodies in dark cloaks, but he had vanished in the chaos.

  She crawled over to Vree and put two bloody fingers to her neck, focusing hard, she felt a faint pulse. Raelynn felt her head throb with every pulse of blood. With one arm covered in scarlet blood and another badly bruised, she picked Vree up off the floor and looked around in a panic as people shoved and screamed, trying to get out of the room. Pushing through the mass of people, Raelynn carried Vree out of the courtroom in search of the Palace hospital wing.

  ◆◆◆

  Kyan heard Raelynn scream, knowing that something had happened to Vree. As Guards ran after him, Kyan slammed through the locked doors, breaking them open. Ice cold air swept over him. He quickly registered where he was and ran through the snowy courtyard that sat around the courthouse. The crowd of people and Guards made it through the doors not three seconds after him. It was dusk and the snow was falling heavily, stinging Kyan’s face as he sprinted.

  Ahead of him, Kyan spotted an ambassador walking side by side with his light brown horse. In a last-ditch effort, Kyan sprinted up to the stallion, shoved the man over the edge, and took the reins, climbing on top of it. “I’m sorry!” he yelled to the ambassador as he kicked the sides of the horse, driving it forward through the falling snow.

  A horns blared and bells rang through the frozen air setting the entire Palace on high alert. Kyan snapped the reins of his horse to get it to run faster. The horse hurdled over a half wall into a hallway of the Palace. Kyan yelled at his horse, “Yah!” and snapped the reins again; but he immediately pulled them back when he saw a group of twenty Ferramish Guards turn the corner in front of him. Spinning the horse around, he kicked it and drove it the other way. But behind him, the Guards from the courthouse had caught up and blocked it off.

  Kyan’s mind froze and then snapped back, thinking of only one way. “Alright buddy,” he said, putting his hand to the neck of the horse, “you’re gonna have to jump.” Kyan stared down the Guards closing in on him and then kicked his horse forward with the experience of a prince. “Yah!”

  The horse sprinted toward the Guards, who all drew their swords. Kyan kicked the horse faster. “Yah!” Seeing that Kyan was not stopping, the Guards put up their shields. Twenty feet, ten feet, five feet. The horse kicked off with its massive hind legs, clipped the soldiers’ shields and hurled itself and Kyan over them. Kyan screamed, “Yes! Go! Go! Go!” and the horse galloped back into the courtyard. Picturing a mental map of the Palace in his head, Kyan drove left through the falling snow. “Yah!” The horse shook its reins and took off.

  The bells and horns of the Palace continued to sound out across the entirety of the grounds, and people had begun to gather. Kyan tore through the crowds on the horse and split off into a hallway that would bring him to the front gate — the only way out of the Palace if they hadn’t shut them already.
The cold air stung his face and he snapped the reins again after hearing shouting behind him. Left, right, right, down the ramp. Kyan drove away into the courtyard at the front gate.

  The watchtowers’ torches were ablaze and the bells on the top of the gate ahead chimed. Hundreds of people were gathered in the courtyard and screamed when they saw Kyan coming on his horse. Fifty Ferramish Guards sprinted out into the courtyard, racing to catch Kyan. The Guards all shouted up to the watchmen on the wall, “Shut the gate! Shut the gate!”

  The giant chains of the gate began to crank them shut. “Come on!” Kyan shouted to his horse. “Let’s go!” People screamed as he whizzed by.

  From up ahead on the watchtower, he heard someone yell out orders. “He’s gonna make it! Archers! Fire!”

  Kyan’s heart stopped as he heard multiple arrows hissing through the air toward him. He ducked behind the neck of his horse, and an arrow grazed his shoulder. But the horse below him let out a winnie and collapsed at top speed into the snow, throwing Kyan off the front.

  Getting up, Kyan saw the horse’s coat turning red next to an arrow. The crank of the gate yanked his mind back into focus, and Kyan sprinted away from the horse to the closing gate. From above, he heard another command to fire, and another few arrows barely missed him. Kyan’s lungs burned as he pounded toward the closing gate. The metal gate had just ten feet left till its teeth hit the ground. A man grabbed Kyan, but he punched his way out of his grasp. Five feet until the gate was closed. Kyan drove his feet as fast as he could through the snow and slid underneath the gate just as it shut.

  Kyan tried to stand up, but his jacket was caught in the closed gate. Guards from the other side ran toward Kyan with swords and spears. Trying to pry his jacket out of the closed gate, Kyan gave up and tore the jacket off. Pounding through the snow, Kyan’s bare skin froze in the surrounding air. With his muscles cramping Kyan ran as fast as he could, but a feeling of dread took over when he heard the galloping of hooves behind him. Glancing back, he saw twenty Ferramish Guards and their horses racing toward him. I can lose them in the city.

  Kyan ran forward, turning off into a side street between two narrow buildings. Rounding another corner he shoved his way passed a group of street performers into a marketplace. The Guards’ whistles behind him sounded, drawing attention to Kyan as he tore through the stands of freezing vegetables. Kyan hurdled over a half wall and into another side street. The Ferramish Guards blew their whistles and shouted behind him, “Catch him!”

  Kyan sprinted through the twisted alleyway. His heart pounded and his lungs and legs burned. The whistles grew closer behind him. I need to lose them. But now he was in home territory — he could race through the streets blindfolded. He knew where he was, and he knew another alleyway to the side was approaching that lead to a staircase where he could go up to the roofs.

  The Guard yelled behind him and he sprinted through the snow. There it is. Kyan thought. Overcoming the exhaustion, Kyan rounded the corner as fast as he could but instantly felt his feet slip out from under him on the ice. Kyan hit the ground followed by the smack of his head, and then his vision collapsed.

  His eyes took a second to come back into focus and a searing pain coursed through his head. His skin was cold and purple and his ears rang loudly as he vainly tried to pull himself up from the ice. The alleyway around him spun and he fell back down again from the dizziness. Not able to form thoughts, he heard the muffled sound of hooves and horses through the intense ringing in his ears. His vision closed again, but Kyan could tell the Guards had surrounded him, and they were speaking, but he couldn’t hear through the ringing. Kyan felt his body lifted up and his arms pinned behind his back. As his hands were tied together, Kyan could vaguely make out the phrase, “You are under arrest and are sentenced for execution.” After that, Kyan’s vision completely closed, his legs gave out from under him, and his mind went blank.

  The Pawn

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  ~Night, February 10th

  A crack of moonlight filtered into the prison cell. Kyan’s bare back leaned up against the ice cold stone wall, and a small snow drift sat beneath the barred window at the top of the room. A dead leaf blew across the grey stone floor and tumbled over Kyan’s bare foot. His skin was purple from the cold; only a pair of pants covered him. The door was shut and locked with two armed Guards on the outside.

  A blindfold ran around Kyan’s eyes, tied tightly to the back of his head. His arms were tied behind him, and a red rash ran around his wrists from the burn of the rope. His head still throbbed, and he could see flashes of light even though he was blindfolded. An excruciating pain ran through his foot — they had beaten it badly to disable him from escaping. The cold air sat in his lungs, which barely moved. His body was still, save for his shivering arms and shoulders.

  For hours, as he sat tied against the stone wall, Kyan’s mind was blank. Kyan struggled to think of any way he could get out . . . hoping for help from anyone. But nothing came to him. All that existed was his cold body, the cold prison cell, and the eerie image of the gallows. Tears dripped from his eyes, and dampened the blindfold. What has this all come to . . .

  Kyan shuffled his feet, grimacing from the aching, and tried to move his back, which was tied tightly to the wall behind him with a rope around his chest. The dread of death overtook him and seemed to fill his blood with ice. The gallows at Benja’s execution darted through his mind. The noose being placed around Benja’s neck, the fear in Benja’s eyes, the door swinging out from under his feet, and the spine chilling snap of his neck. Kyan hiccuped and let out a sob. What am I supposed to do now . . . Kyan breathed in deeply and whispered out with tears, “I don’t want to die . . .”

  A thought entered his mind as he stared blankly into his black blindfold. If I die . . . would I only die in this body? Would I keep my memories? Kyan tried to push through the throbbing pain in his concussed head trying to remember the things he had discussed as Tayben with Silverbrook in her home in Endlebarr. She said I have one soul, one Taurimous . . . Kyan shook his head and lowered it to his bare chest.

  Riccolo’s smirking face in the courtroom ran through his mind, and Kyan clenched his fists and screamed out into the frozen air of his cell. Kyan sobbed and writhed in his bonds, pushing and pulling and twisting — he couldn’t get away. The ropes held him like the jaws of death that had clamped down and wouldn’t let go no matter what he did to escape. Like a bird who’s had its wings clipped, Kyan struggled and struggled to get away but got nowhere.

  Screaming and trying to stand up against the ropes, Kyan slipped back onto the floor and fell limp, crying and gasping for air. Although he couldn’t see it, he could feel himself coughing up blood onto his pants and the stone floor. His whole body and mind were drained of energy and hope, and he sat up against the wall crying for some time.

  Through his window, he could hear the distant commotion of the crowd that was undoubtedly gathered around the prison’s gallows. The prison was located in the third district so the scum of the streets were kept far from nobility. The volume of the crowd increased, and Kyan’s heartbeat quickened, sensing that the time was coming near.

  Kyan looked up at a ceiling he could not see and breathed out. Great Mother . . . I’m sorry . . . for everything I’ve done, for the people I’ve hurt . . . for Benja and all the others. I know I don’t deserve to live . . . Kyan hiccuped and began to whisper his prayer. “But I’m not ready to die . . . I know others have made sacrifices but they’re stronger than I am . . . Please don’t let me die here. I can’t change what I’ve done, but I know that I can help this world, I swear I can . . . Please.”

  Another minute passed before a knock sounded on the door of the prison cell, and the door creaked open. Kyan’s stomach twisted and he kicked and tried to move away from the door, from the people he knew would take him away and bring him to the gallows. He couldn’t see past his blindfold, but he only heard one set of uneven footsteps. Kyan kept silent as the door to th
e cell closed and the footsteps approached, walking very slowly towards him. Whoever was there spoke to Kyan in a whisper. “If you do exactly what I tell you, you will get out of this cell. Do not speak; the guards will hear.”

  Kyan’s heartbeat quickened. What is this . . . ?

  The person in the room knelt down beside Kyan and grabbed the ropes that bound his hands and feet and began to untie them. Once again, the person spoke in a whisper, “Do not take your blindfold off until you are ready to go out of this cell . . . once I get you untied, you will take the cloak and shirt I’m wearing and put it on for yourself.” The person untied the last knot and removed Kyan’s ties, but pressed on his shoulder to keep him down.

  Kyan tried to stand on his bruised and battered foot and he whispered, “Who are you? What are you-”

  A hand covered Kyan’s mouth to keep him quiet. Kyan heard the person removing the cloak and shirt then helping Kyan to stand and holding the clothing to guide Kyan’s arms through. Now fully clothed, Kyan heard the person sit where Kyan had been tied up.

  The person whispered again. “You can walk out of the prison the way you came in. The Guards won’t stop you. Place the hood of the cloak over your head and keep your head down. Walk slowly and don’t look at anyone. Once you turn around, you may take off your blindfold, but do not look back . . . You’re free, now go . . .”

  Kyan’s mind rushed a million miles an hour as he obeyed, and slowly turned toward the cell door, taking off his blindfold, finally able to see the cold stone moonlit walls of the prison cell. Having a strong urge to look back, Kyan once again obeyed and walked toward the door. Why is this person here? Is this some trick? But I have nothing more to lose if it doesn’t work . . . Am I really free? . . . Kyan reached for the door handle and turned it, walking out into the torch lit hallway of the prison. Two Guards stood at attention beside him and nodded as he walked by, thinking he was the person who had freed him. Keep your head down. Kyan slowly limped away from his cell and down the hallways of the prison toward the entrance.