The Broken Reign

by Jeremy Michelson

  Fortune felt a tightness in his chest. He didn't need the red-haired man to be a hero. But he did need cooperation. Fortune wondered how much of his hand he should reveal. Maybe it would be better to let the man sit in the cold barn for another day or two.

  “For your own sake, hope that you find the hero within yourself,” Fortune said, “You have a few days before the King returns. Use that time to ponder what I have said to you.”

  Fortune spun on his heel and walked away. He pushed open the stable door and escaped out into the freezing night air. Snow was falling, hissing to the ground. Fortune put his hands to his face.

  Would this nightmare never end?

  Thirty-One

  Joshua

  Joshua watched the old man rush out of the building. He looked rattled. Good. Let his doubt grow.

  He turned to the metal band that chafed his neck. He pulled on the heavy metal chain. It was attached to stone wall with a thick iron ring. Formerly used to tether horses in their stalls, he assumed. The rich smell of manure and animals had told him where he was the moment he awoke. His body ached and for an instant, he had thought he was back in Hurdroth's castle.

  Then he remembered the battle at the cabin, seeing Kojanza go down with the arrow in her.

  That’s when he got angry.

  Lord Fortune wanted to make a deal. Wanted him to switch sides. What the fussy old Lord didn’t understand was that there was only one side. Joshua’s. Everything else was irrelevant.

  He examined the rest of the stable. A half-height stone wall stood at either side. One of the walls had wooden slats going up to the heavy wooden beams that made up the ceiling. He looked over the other wall at his neighbor. A brown horse with a black mane. The horse turned its face to him. It had a familiar white spot around its left eye.

  “Damnit!” Joshua said, “How the hell did you get here?”

  The horse snorted and looked away. It lifted its tail slightly and let out a thunderous fart.

  “Good to see you too, buddy,” Joshua said, waving the odor away. The stupid horse must have wandered back to its home, eventually finding its way here.

  Joshua grabbed the chain and put his foot against the wall. He pulled with all the might his bruised muscles could muster. The ring didn’t budge. Some master craftsman had driven it deep so horses couldn’t pull it out.

  He took a deep breath. Somewhere nearby was Kojanza. Fortune had said she was alive. Wounded, but alive. He had to get to her. Once he got her to safety, then he could start thinking about how he was going to punish these people.

  He looked up to the ceiling. “Grams, if you’re anywhere around, I could use a little help here,” he said.

  He wrapped his fingers around the chain and pulled again.

  Thirty-Two

  Lord Fortune

  The cold air was chilling Fortune's bones. And his temper. He turned to go back inside the stable. A shape loomed up out of the shadows.

  “Fortune. When is Hurdroth going to return?” Dovd asked.

  “Assuming Hemdell doesn’t kill him, a few days,” Fortune said.

  Dovd moved closer. Fortune could just barely make out his features in the dim light as the snow hissed around them.

  "I was promised," Dovd said, "My people won't keep fighting for him. I've found the red-haired stranger for you. Now you have to hold up your end of the bargain."

  Fortune noted Dovd’s hand hover near the dagger at his belt. Another threat. Fortune sighed.

  “Dovd, I’m afraid I have bad news for you,” Fortune said.

  Dovd’s reaction was immediate and vicious. He leapt forward, pushing Fortune against the stone wall. The dagger was now in his hand, at Fortune’s throat.

  “I’m not going to play games with you old man,” Dovd said, “If it wasn’t for me, you never would have found that worthless piece of crap. Now we have a bargain.”

  Fortune smiled. “Yes, you have a bargain with me. You don’t have any kind of bargain with the King, however.”

  Dovd growled and pushed the dagger against Fortune’s throat. The cold blade sent shivers over him.

  “Explain yourself,” Dovd said, “And choose your words carefully, or they might be your last.”

  “It’s very simple,” Fortune said, “I never spoke to the King about pardoning your people.”

  “What!” Dovd pressed his arm against Fortune’s chest.

  Fortune struggled to take a breath. He was getting too damned old for this sort of intrigue. Damn Hurdroth, or maybe damn his former concubine, Vazsa. No, Hurdroth was looking for an excuse for war. If it hadn’t been the girl, it would have been something else.

  "The king would have never agreed to let your people go," Fortune said, "So I lied to you."

  Dovd’s face twisted in rage. “Do you have any gods you wish to pray to before I kill you old man?” he asked.

  “You seem to be forgetting something,” Fortune said.

  “And what’s that?”

  "You and I have the red-haired man."

  The pressure on Fortune’s chest eased slightly.

  “What good is that? He’s no Death Queen, even if he is of the same blood–which I doubt.”

  Fortune thought of the fierce look on the young man’s face.

  “Oh, he’s of the same blood. Of that I have no doubt,” he said, “But he claims to have none of her powers. Which one is inclined to believe, given the fact that we have him chained in a horse stall at the moment.”

  “Get to the point old man,” Dovd said.

  "It's very simple. You want your people back. I want my castle back. We both want Hurdroth dead and the treaty restored."

  “I care nothing for the treaty,” Dovd said, “The treaty is gone. It’s an empty threat anyway. Hurdroth has broken the treaty. He’s broken it, pissed on it and taken a shit on it for good measure. And what’s happened? Tell me, what has happened, old man?”

  Fortune gave a tiny shake of his head, very aware of the blade at his neck.

  “Nothing. That’s what has happened,” Dovd said, “Nothing at all. The Death Queen hasn’t risen from her crypt, or wherever she is. Hurdroth and Hemsdell are battling for all the kingdoms. And no one is stopping them. The Death Queen is gone. She can't threaten us anymore. We're on our own."

  Fortune admitted to himself that Dovd’s logic seemed sound. But he also knew that Dovd’s thoughts didn’t go deep enough. The few spies that Fortune had left had brought him disturbing whispers. Things seemed to be in motion. It starting to look like it had decades ago when every kingdom was at war with one another.

  Dovd wasn’t the only one who had lost his fear of Queen Amaya. Young men who had ascended to thrones in recent years knew nothing about her reign. All they knew were whispered legends told by trembling gray hairs. They had never seen her wrath in person.

  As he had.

  And one thing he had learned observing her was–never underestimate her. Why had the red-haired man come into the world now? His arrival had set into motion this terrible chain of events, but trouble had been brewing for years before.

  “She does seem to be absent these days, doesn’t she?” said Fortune, “Though–”

  Dovd scraped the blade over Fortune’s neck. “Enough, get to it, old man,” he said, “Do you have something to offer me?”

  “Yes, though you’re going to have to put away that blade if you want to hear it,” Fortune said.

  Dovd didn’t release him. “I’m losing patience.”

  Fortune smiled. “Do you know Anta Vin knew the location of a cache of magical weapons?”

  Dovd looked confused. “Weapons? Anta Vin never had any real weapons. She had far talkers and a few novelties, but no killing devices.”

  “Ah, I’ll take that as a yes,” Fortune said, “Then you’ll definitely want to listen to me now.”

  “I’m listening.”

  "Put the dagger away and we'll talk like gentlemen," Fortune said. Despite the cold, he was sweating. He was getting far, far
too old this kind of silliness.

  “Tell me more about this weapons cache first,” Dovd said.

  Fortune sighed. “After the treaty was accepted, all kingdoms had to turn their magical devices over to Queen Amaya to be destroyed. Anta Vin turned over most of the forest people’s devices, except for, as you said, some far talkers and other novelties. Everyone did it, and I’m sure Amaya was aware of it. Amaya destroyed most of the weapons, but she hid some of them.”

  Dovd was looking interested now. The pressure on Fortune’s throat eased. “Where?”

  “Put your dagger away,” Fortune said.

  Dovd stared at him for a few moments, then pulled away. He kept the dagger in his hand, but Fortune breathed easier now that it wasn’t at his throat. Fortune rubbed his neck.

  “How did you come to find out about it?” Dovd asked. The tone of his voice suggested Fortune was full of manure. Fortune ignored it for the moment.

  “Anta Vin told me. This place was where a great ship crashed in the forest long ago. Anta Vin said she stumbled upon it by accident one day.”

  Dovd toyed with the knife, waving it up and down. “Anta Vin told this to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But she didn’t tell anyone of the tribe? I don’t believe you,” Dovd said, “Why would she tell you?”

  “She told me because we were allies,” Fortune said, “She couldn’t get at the weapons cache herself, so she enlisted my help.”

  Dovd looked unconvinced. “I know the forest better than anyone. If there was a vessel there I would have found it long ago. And if you knew of this magical cache of weapons, why did you let Hurdroth steal your lands and your castle?”

  Fortune gave him a wry look. “Unfortunately for me, Hurdroth had the element of surprise on his side–and the help of the traitorous General Hemsdell. There are also other complications in retrieving the weapons.”

  Dovd looked smug. “In other words, you had gotten soft and complacent and didn’t expect to be attacked.”

  “Something like that,” Fortune said.

  Dovd raised the knife again, thrusting it up in the air. “That’s what’s wrong with everything. That’s what’s wrong with the treaty. It allowed everyone to become soft and lazy. It allowed someone like Hurdroth to think he could conquer everything. And he’s right. He’s conquered you, the forest kingdom, and most of the Lords have capitulated to him. The only thing that might stop him is Hemdell. And Hemdell is just as bad, if not worse than Hurdroth.”

  Lord Fortune refrained from rolling his eyes. “Now that you’ve had your moment to preach at me, stop and think about what I just told you.”

  “What?”

  Exasperated, Fortune grabbed the man’s forearm. The one with the hand holding the knife.

  “I told you, I know where there is a cache of weapons hidden by Queen Amaya herself,” Fortune said, “Do you hear me? Weapons. Real, magical weapons. The kind that can stop Hurdroth. The kind that can make your people safe from his kind.”

  Fortune saw it finally sink into Dovd’s head. His eyes went wide. He yanked his arm away from Fortune’s grip.

  "You old fool, why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" he asked, "We wasted an entire year searching for that red-headed sack of shit!"

  Fortune shook his head. “No, we need him.”

  “For the love of the gods, why!”

  “Because only one with the blood of Amaya can get the weapons,” Fortune said.

  Thirty-Three

  Vazsa

  Vazsa stood near the door of the medical bay watching Dr. Fran work on Lou’s arm. There was a sharp smell of alcohol overlaying the tang of blood in the air. Dr. Fran grumbled as she cut the head off the arrow and pulled the shaft out of his arm. Lou winced, but didn’t cry out.

  “Damned natives throwing rocks and sticks at us,” she said.

  “Arrows, doc,” Pete said.

  She gave him a withering look. She held up the blood-stained arrow shaft. "This is a stick. It was attached to incredibly sharp piece of flint. Which, if you know anything about geology, is technically a rock, you moron."

  Pete looked like he was going to say something, but stopped when Dr. Fran gave him a narrow-eyed stare. Dr. Fran sprayed something on the oozing wound. A small hiss escaped Lou's lips.

  “You sure you don’t want a local, big guy?” Dr. Fran asked.

  “I’m sure,” Lou said through gritted teeth, “Save it for people who need it.”

  She patted his arm. “You’re a good soldier.”

  As she was taking a needle and thread to the wound, Tony stumbled into the room, Cray right behind him. Tony took a look at Lou’s bloody arm and his legs wobbled. He looked away. Cray moved over to Vazsa and kept his mouth shut. For the moment.

  “Holy crap, man, are you okay?” Tony asked.

  “Don’t sweat it, it’s just a scratch,” Lou said.

  Tony looked at Vazsa. “What the hell happened out there? Were you doing something stupid? You try to run away?”

  “It’s not her fault,” Lou said, “We went to check on Tojedda. His com unit went out. When we got there his cabin was burned to the ground. I scanned for warm bodies, didn’t see anything, so I made the call to do a ground recon.”

  “Shit, Lou, you know the sensor array on that fucking robot is screwed up,” Tony said.

  “He knows,” Pete said, “He had to make the call, right, Lou?”

  Lou nodded. Dr. Fran pulled a stitch tight and Lou winced again. “We locked down Betsy, and put our boots on the ground. We found human remains in the ashes. Here.” He dug into his pocket and threw something at Pete. Pete held his hands out just in time to do a fumbling catch. “I recovered the com unit. A little worse for wear.”

  “You think it was Tojedda?” Tony asked.

  Lou shrugged. “Coulda been anyone, but if I had to take a guess, I’d say it was him.”

  “Any other remains?” Pete asked. “Tojedda had a very good looking daughter as I recall.”

  Vazsa frowned. Good looking daughter? The three men never said anything about her looks. Not that she wanted them to. But still...

  Lou shook his head. “I didn’t see any, but then we didn’t get a chance to do a thorough search. We came under fire from natives and had to bug out.”

  Dr. Fran was wrapping a cloth around Lou’s arm now. “Don’t forget you have natives here.” She gave Vazsa and Cray a sidelong glance.

  Vazsa’s face went warm. Dr. Fran had tried to convince the three men to dump her and Cray near some village, saying they didn’t belong on the ship. Vazsa was glad when the other three vetoed the idea. She found the ship and its machines fascinating.

  “They’re okay, doc,” Lou said, “Anyway, I laid down some fire with the pulse rifle and we got back into Besty.” He raised his bandaged arm. “Though I got a souvenir. I had Vazsa arm the defense system and she returned fire on the natives. Took them out. With interest.”

  “Shit, you killed natives?” Pete asked.

  Lou shrugged. “They were trying to kill us. Just figured I’d return the favor. Show them how it’s done.”

  “Yeah, except you said Vazsa here did it, not you,” Pete said.

  Vazsa hadn’t let herself think about the two people she may have killed out in the forest. Where they forest people, or were they someone else's?

  “How do you know they weren’t trying to just kill you and not her?” Dr. Fran asked.

  Lou looked at Vazsa. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind. Vazsa remembered the arrow that whizzed by her at the cabin.

  “They tried to shoot me, too,” she said.

  Lou nodded. “Yeah, they were trying to take us both out.”

  Cray tugged at her arm. “They didn’t get you did they?” he asked her.

  “No, they missed,” she said.

  "Then it couldn't have been anyone from the tribe," Cray said, "They wouldn't have missed."

  Everyone was silent, staring at her and Cray. She realized that Cray may
have just made things worse. What if the archers had deliberately missed her? That’s what was probably going through their minds.

  Even worse, Vazsa wondered if it might be true. Anyone from the tribe would have recognized her. It was unlikely they would have tried to kill her. And Cray was right. Archers from the tribe wouldn’t have missed.

  “I didn’t get a visual on the shooters,” Lou said, “So I don’t know if it was forest folk.”

  Dr. Fran gave Vazsa an unfriendly look. “Did you see them?” she asked.

  She shook her head. She had seen figures on the weapons screen, but those were given different colors by the Armor’s system. The figures had been overlaid with red until the target was locked, then they turned green.

  “Maybe we should lock them down again,” Pete said.

  For a moment Vazsa didn’t understand what he meant. Then it flooded into her brain. He was talking about holding her and Cray prisoner. Lock them down.

  Thirty-Four

  Vazsa

  The three men and Dr. Fran were stared at Vaza and Cray. Vazsa’s heart fluttered with panic. Part of her wanted to run, get out of the ship, disappear into the forest.

  But another part wanted to stay on the ship with all its strange and fascinating devices.

  “I haven’t done anything,” Vazsa said, “And I wouldn’t do anything to you.”

  Dr. Fran picked the bloody arrow shaft and head off the metal tray beside Lou. She walked over to Vazsa and Cray, holding them out.

  “I bet you can tell who made this arrow,” she said, “Or at least if it came from your people or not.”