The Broken Reign

by Jeremy Michelson

  The painting. If it was the way into this crazy world, then it had to be the way out. But how was he going to find it?

  Everyone in this world seemed to know something about it. Portals. They knew about portals.

  Joshua stood up. He bumped his head on the rocks above him. Cursing, he clutched his head. This place was trying to kill him. He bent down and gathered the bundle of scrolls. The knife he stuck in his belt. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was all he had for the moment. He left the outcropping and stomped toward the horse.

  Damnit saw him coming and trotted away.

  “Damnit! Come here!” he shouted.

  The sound echoed across the snow covered gorge. A moment later he heard a rumbling. For a second he thought of the shaking and rumbling at Gram's house. But this was different. It was coming from above.

  He looked up. Snow from the boughs of one of the giant trees was falling toward him. He ran.

  Snow thundered down. Joshua pumped his legs, heart hammering in his chest. Damnit was already in motion, leaping away with a squeal. He knew he wasn’t going to make it.

  The snow hit him like a brick wall, slamming him down to the ground. Everything went black.

  Thirteen

  Vazsa

  Vazsa’s feet crunched over the light snow, her breath billowing out in front of her in the chill air. Her ears still burned from Anta Vin’s words. Even miles away, deep in the silent forest, she could still feel the heat of them. She had never seen the old woman so agitated.

  The red-haired one must be destroyed! Go! Find him and don't come back until his head is gone from his body!

  Vasza breathed deep of the clean, pine-scented air, trying to expel tension she felt. She glanced at Dovd, jogging in grim silence at her side. His nose was red and swollen. No doubt he would be happy to kill the stranger.

  “If you have something to say, say it,” Dovd said.

  They crunched through the light snow of the deep forest. The tracks of the horse were easy to follow. With any luck, they would catch up to the stranger before nightfall. She hitched the pack higher on her shoulders. They could camp out for days if they had to. Vazsa didn't know which would be better. Getting back sooner with the stranger's bodiless head, or staying away for a few days to let Anta Vin cool off.

  “Why did Anta Vin want the stranger dead?” Vazsa asked.

  Dovd gave her a cold look. He was twenty years older than she was. Old enough to remember Queen Amaya’s reign and the wars she brought to an end.

  “He’s dangerous,” Dovd said. “If he’s really the blood of the Death Queen, then he might have some of her power. That power almost destroyed our world.”

  “But didn’t she stop the wars?”

  Dovd barked a short, harsh laugh. “Yes. But at a price. You know about the southern lands.”

  Vazsa had heard the stories all her life. They were hard to believe though. How could anyone have that kind of power?

  “Did she really destroy the southern lands with fire from the sky?” Vazsa asked.

  “I didn’t see it happen,” Dovd said, “But I’ve been down to the border of the southern lands. The land is blackened and still too hot to walk on. I could see nothing living there.

  “But how did she do it?” Vazsa asked.

  “No one ever knew the source of her power,” Dovd said, “Maybe she was her own source. Or maybe she brought it from the other worlds. All I know is that she wielded that power like a fist. When she left there was rejoicing everywhere.”

  “Why did she leave?” Vazsa asked.

  Dovd shrugged. “Another mystery. Once the treaties were all signed and the magical weapons destroyed, she said she was going back to her world. I don’t think anyone begged her to stay.”

  “But not all the magical weapons were destroyed,” she said.

  “A few were saved, yes,” he said, “Most of them, the most dangerous ones, were consigned to the fires of the southern lands.”

  “But–”

  “But you broke the treaty today by using magic,” Dovd said, “You’re too young to remember the wars. Our whole world was on the verge of extinction with all the clans and kingdoms at war with one another.”

  Vazsa thought carefully before she spoke. There was so much about Queen Amaya and the wars that were wrapped in legend. It was hard to find the truth in any of it.

  She glanced at Dovd, jogging along beside her. He couldn’t have been more than a boy during Queen Amaya’s reign. Most of what he knew had to have been passed on to him by adults. She decided to try another tact.

  “Is it true that Queen Amaya commanded the trees in our forest to grow so big?” she asked.

  Dovd stopped. Vazsa skidded to a halt a few feet farther, turning to look at him. Their breath steamed from their bodies in the cold air. He looked angry. Well, angrier. She breathed deeply of the earthy scents of the forest. Behind Dovd one of the giant trees rose, its upper branches lost to the clouds. The trees sheltered and sustained their people. Did they have Queen Amaya to thank for that?

  “Where did you hear that story?” Dovd asked.

  She looked away. “I don’t remember who told it. There are lots of stories.”

  Dovd put his hands on his slim hips, a scowl on his face. “Yes, there are. Listen, Vazsa, there are some who think the Death Queen was a god, or something close to it,” he said, “But she wasn’t.”

  She waited for him to continue, but instead, he stared at the ground.

  “What was she then?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No one really knows,” he said, “She came to our world and changed everything. Then she left. But I do know that she is to be feared, not admired. You should remember that. Especially when we catch up to this stranger.”

  Vazsa threw up her hands. “Then what was the point of me blowing my cover and taking him away from King Hurdoth?” she asked, “He knows something about the portals. If we had the portal we could–”

  “Could what? Kill all our enemies? Rule the world?” Dovd asked, “That’s what started the wars in the first place. Everyone thought they could win and rule the land. Then Amaya came.”

  “But–”

  “But you may have just started the wars anew, Vazsa,” Dovd said, “Burning Hurdoth’s castle? Stealing the stranger from him? Openly displaying magic? Do you wonder that Anta Vin is so angry?”

  Her face was hot as he hurled the accusations at her. His words were harsh, but the stillness of the forest softened them. He was no Anta Vin.

  “Would it have been better for Hurdoth to keep him?” she said, “Would it have been better for Hurdoth to find the portal the stranger came through?”

  Dovd shook his head. "The stranger didn't know anything. From what you told me, his coming through the portal was some kind of accident. The portal may not even exist anymore."

  “But–”

  Movement caught her eye. With a smooth, quick movement she pulled her bow and nocked an arrow. She crouched in the light snow, aiming. Dovd had reacted as well. He pulled out his own bow and had raced over to the massive tree. He set himself behind a giant root and aimed his arrow.

  “What is it?” he hissed.

  She shook her head. It couldn’t be a bear, they tended to stay along the edges of the great forest. Wolves on the other hand...

  Something ran across the open area between the trunks. Vazsa almost loosed her arrow, but caught herself in time. She stood, lowering the bow.

  “Cray!” she shouted, “You idiot, what do you think you’re doing?”

  Dovd rose, lowering his bow also. He muttered a curse and walked over to Vazsa. Cray was still hiding.

  “Cray, damn you, get over here,” Dovd said.

  A small head popped over one of the big roots. “Don’t get mad,” he said, “I just want to help.”

  “Get over here,” Dovd said.

  With obvious reluctance, Cray climbed over the root and walked toward them. The boy straightened his back and threw his shoulder
s back. Vazsa almost laughed at his attempt to look fierce and dignified. He stopped in front of them, chest puffed out, looking her directly in the eye. She noticed he didn’t try to stare down Dovd.

  She sighed and tousled his hair. He yanked his head away in disgust.

  “Little brother, why do you have to be so much trouble?” she asked.

  He puffed himself up more and gave her a haughty look. “I’m almost a man, you should speak to me with respect,” he said.

  Dovd slapped him upside the head, hard enough to send the boy to the ground. For a moment Cray looked furious, then scared as Dovd stood over him. Vazsa considered intervening, but decided her little brother needed a little humility. Perhaps a lot.

  “You are not a man,” Dovd growled at him, “You are not even close to being a man. You are an annoying little boy who thinks the world belongs to him. You are nothing. You are no better than the dirt between my toes, do you hear me?”

  The boy shrank back from Dovd’s anger at first. But then his face went crimson. He skittered back and leapt to his feet. Pulled a knife from his belt.

  “You can’t say that to me!” Cray shouted, “I am the grandson of Anta Vin! Someday this forest will be mine and you will grovel at my feet!”

  “Cray!” Vazsa cried. The kid was insane. She stepped toward him. He swung the knife toward her. “Cray! Stop it. You’re not royalty. You and I are no better than anyone else in the tribe.”

  “Perhaps less so,” Dovd said.

  Vazsa looked at him, her mouth hanging open. He stood, arms folded, looking at both of them with utter contempt.

  "The two of you do think you're better than the rest of us," he said, "You both think you own this damned forest and everything and everyone in it. Actually, this is convenient."

  He reached over his shoulder and pulled out his short sword. It rasped out of the sheath, its silver blade glowing dully in the dim forest light.

  “Dovd, what–” Vazsa started to say.

  He lunged at her. Instinct kicked in and she turned away from the blade. It passed so close she could feel the wind of its passage, smell the musky scent of Dovd.

  She rolled to the ground, coming up with her own short dagger. She gasped. Croyd had already leapt, holding out his own dagger.

  “You get away from us you dog!” Croyd said.

  Dovd didn’t speak. He pulled a dagger from his belt and faced them both.

  “Dovd, what are you doing?” Vazsa said.

  He lunged at them both, slashing with his weapons.

  Fourteen

  Joshua

  Joshua woke on his back. Opening his eyes he saw orange light flickering on thick wood beams. There was the smell of woodsmoke and cooking meat. His stomach rumbled.

  Well, at least that part of him was still working.

  He remembered the snow slamming him to the ground. The avalanche (treevalanche?) caught him. He thought it was the end. Apparently not.

  He tried moving other body parts. Arms and legs protested with aches and small pains, but otherwise obeyed. This was also good. A small victory. Next step, what would that be? Maybe making some noise would be good. A call for assistance from whatever good Samaritan rescued him.

  He swallowed and tried to speak, but his dry throat only made a gargled squeak. It was a start.

  No one came rushing to help him though. No kind offers of water or a sub sandwich with extra mayo. Which probably wasn’t a bad thing. He needed to cut down on the mayo if he wanted to lose weight.

  Joshua turned his head. Across the room was a rough stone fireplace. A fire crackled in the blackened hearth. Over the fire hung an iron pot. He hoped it contained food and not laundry.

  His eyes roamed the room, taking note of the rough-hewn wooden table, the rickety looking chair, the beautiful young woman holding a wicked looking sword, the pegs on the wall holding fur robes.

  Whups.

  His eyeballs went back to the beautiful young woman, who was indeed, very beautiful. She had smooth, white skin and pale blonde hair. So pale it was almost white. Her lips were full and red, her eyes a shade of perfect crystal blue. She wore a tan leather shirt and leggings.

  She sat on another chair, sword on her lap. In one hand she held a stone. Her perfect blue eyes met his and she frowned. She brought the stone down on the sword and rasped it along the edge.

  “Papa, the moron is awake,” she said in a light, lilting voice.

  Moron? He wanted to tell her he had an advanced degree in computer science. Give him a computer and he could make it dance. He could make it do pirouettes. He could make it do the Macarena.

  But, looking at the long, gleaming sword in her hand, he realized most everything he had learned in his entire life was irrelevant now. He looked away before the tears stinging his eyes could escape.

  A gnarled and lined face appeared over him, followed by a nose-clenching body odor.

  “Well, will ya look at that,” the man said. He thrust three fingers into Joshua’s line of sight, “How many fingers do you see, laddie?”

  Joshua stared at the digits. They were very dirty. The nails were cracked and appeared to have some kind of fungus growing in the cracks.

  Joshua swallowed, working up some moisture into his mouth. “Three,” he croaked.

  The man, white hair flying about his head, stood up and shook the fingers at the beautiful woman. “See, I told you he’d be okay,” the man said.

  “I still don’t know why we saved him, papa,” the woman said, “We don’t have enough to eat as it is, and he looks like he eats a lot.”

  Joshua tried to suck in his belly. Which was kind of hard to do lying down. He tried to sit up. That was when he noticed two things. One, he was naked. And two, his leg was tied with a stout rope to a metal ring embedded in the wall. He clapped his hands to his aching head. At least the last place that tied him up had let him keep his clothes.

  “Look at that red hair!” the old man exclaimed, “That’s why! SHE had red hair. The only red hair that’s ever been seen in our world.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” the woman said, “He could have colored it with berries or something.”

  The man grabbed the fur covering Joshua’s body and yanked it up. Cold air hit Joshua’s naked nether region.

  “Hey!”

  “How about those berries?” the old man asked, “You think those were colored?”

  Joshua grabbed the fur out of the old man’s hand, covering himself back up. The old man cackled and slapped his leg. Joshua noticed the woman’s cheeks were bright pink and she was looking away. He tried to sit up again, but the short rope stopped him. He had to settle for getting up on one elbow and giving the old man a stern look.

  “I don’t know who you people are, but it’s not nice to tie people up and take their clothes while they’re unconscious,” he said. They both stared at him. Suddenly he realized how lame he sounded. He lay back down on the bed and covered his face with his hands.

  Not nice. Everything and everyone in this damned place was not nice. People with swords and knives and bows and arrows, biting horses and homicidal old folks. It was about as far from Portland as he could get.

  “I want to go home,” he said.

  The old man came up to him. Joshua could tell because the body stench reached near gagging levels again.

  “And where is home, laddie?” the old man whispered.

  “Portland, Oregon,” Joshua said, “You wouldn’t happen to know where there’s a bus station do you?”

  The old man cackled and the beautiful woman kept rasping the honing stone along the blade.

  “See, see, he’s from the other world,” the old man said, “I told you, didn’t I Kojanza?”

  Kojanza? Joshua peeked out from under his fingers. The beautiful woman, Kojanza was frowning at him. She flipped the blade over and started honing the other side.

  “It doesn’t mean anything, papa,” she said, “His tiny brains are probably scrambled from all that snow hitting
him.”

  The old man waved his hands at her. “Bah, you have no imagination, girl.” He turned back to Joshua. “Tell me, otherworlder, what’s it like where you come from?”

  Joshua considered telling the old man that where he came from they had this magical substance called soap. As well as another substance called deodorant. But he reconsidered, deciding it was better not to insult people with sharp swords while he was tied to the wall.

  “If you untie me I’ll tell you,” Joshua said.

  The old man cackled again. "You'll not be fooling me," he said, "I know if I set you free you'll use your magical powers and fly away. No, I set that rope to you and tied it with the binding knots, just like my dear momma taught me. She always said that no magical beastie could escape when they were tied with those knots.

  Joshua lifted his foot and considered the magical binding knots, or whatever they were. The looked fairly ordinary to him. Maybe when the man and his daughter fell asleep...

  “Look, I’m really hungry,” Joshua said, “If you’re not going to untie me, at least give me something to eat.”

  “Pappa, I told you, he wants to eat all our food,” Kojanza said, “Don’t give him anything. He has enough fat to last him through the winter.”

  “Hey now–” Joshua started to protest.

  The old man held his hand up. “If I feed you a little something, do you promise to tell me the wonders of your world?”

  Joshua sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Sure, you bet.”

  Fifteen

  Lord Fortune

  The fortunes of Lord Fortune had never looked so...unfortunate. General Hemdell pushed him along the arching stone hallway. His hallway. Or the hallway that had so recently been his. Now that the horde of King Hurdoth’s men had invaded, their rank animal smell permeated the entire castle. They had looted what was left of the Fortune family’s fine dining accouterments, torn the ancient tapestries from the walls to use as blankets, and turned the courtyard and its snow covered gardens into a latrine.