Traitor to the King: A Tale of the Benaga Sisters

by Clare SM Keating

  “Well I don’t think he’s the traitor on this occasion either and it’s a selfish waste of a question.” Loteg snorted and swiftly turned about to face his work once more and ignore the Karayan. At first his guest assumed he was fetching some notes, but when Loteg remained silent the Karayan produced a growl of irritation and Loteg sighed. He swatted a seemingly weak wrist to the air and then turned back around with a bored expression upon his face. “Lutas was responsible for his father’s death. He allowed a demon to kill his family and profited in exchange for something Anouk has yet to discover and I have not learnt either. Some curse sits on him as punishment so that he cannot leave the city but that is of little consequence when he has allies everywhere to tell him what he’s missing out on. He is probably likely to have arranged Anouk to be framed for the sake of stealing her victory… but he is troublesome for anyone who does not wish for change and I’d say if he had arranged for Kirlia’s death, it had been with the intent to frame old Lord Kelvis.”

  “Well we know the killer was most likely to be Leridan… but that’s not important as the trial over Kirlia is over with. The real issue is whether Leridan had anything to do with the stone being taken.” The Karayan stated with a sigh… he felt like he was not really gaining anything new from their discussion, but he noticed something odd in Loteg’s expression. In fact, he could almost read horror at the mention of Leridan and this irked him to question it. “Is Leridan likely to be a traitor?”

  “He’s insane – so very insane and yet he is permitted to wander because of his power. His strength in magic is what helps keep the shield about the city working to hide the palace. He is the second most powerful mage and though he is a killer of innocent people when he’s not handled properly, he is not smart enough to do anything without strict guidance.” Loteg sneered and it was obvious to the Karayan that he had finally found a question suitable for the task at hand. In fact, he was about to say something more when Loteg hissed gently in frustration. “There are only three people that can influence Leridan – Lutas his friend, Zehna his master but according to some his father and the religious thing Lord Alagpo who protects him. My gut tells me that one of them has manipulated him and the priest would not be able to do so without feeling guilt and punishing himself. I believe that being will have left to the sanctuary, but then again…. My heart is warning that Zehna has something to do with this… probably to make a point on how nobility means nothing compared to magic ability. He wants to be a hero… so when the attack comes he’ll show himself to be a hero or I don’t know my old master.”

  “I see.” But now the Karayan was in a bind and he realised Loteg had been right to say the Lutas question was a waste of his chances. But in as much as he wanted to know what Molwessa had done to Anouk, the Benaga’s safety was at risk and Leridan was the most obvious culprit. Karayan may have wished to ask too how Loteg knew such things but when he spied the journal in Loteg’s lap, he almost asked something else… if only because that journal belonged to a Benaga! “In your opinion… what would Leridan do with a stone?”

  “That depends on the level of sanity he’s showing… the sane side might try to use it for power but the insane might seek vengeance against the society that won’t let him kill as much as he likes. I would even go as far as to say that he’d be insane enough to open the gates. So, I would suggest you go and find him quickly.” Loteg stated, gently strumming his fingers against his chin in thought as the Karayan bowed his head in thanks. As the figure turned to leave he was a little startled to hear Loteg give a slight cough and he turned about to see a nervous expression upon the being’s face. “Just to be fair… is it true that the Aldjetti bind the heads of their new-born royalty to stretch them to the likeness of the god Kilaxadak?”

  “Not just the royalty… all of them do it but amongst the nobles the whole face is distorted and exaggerated. I will come talk to you again when this chaos is over.” The Karayan grinned at the question of the strange beings beyond the Girroff Mountains. It pleased Loteg enough to start scribbling away in excitement but the Karayan now had something more important to do in this building. Now he had to visit Anouk and then he would warn the king and search for the insidious Leridan.

  As he clambered up the ladder he noticed the curious way the guards inside were staring at him in fascination. They had not managed to hear everything but they’d heard the last little snippet and they looked about to ask questions as well when the Karayan cleared his throat and called out for Skabrat to show herself. With a groan the woman appeared out of the corner of his eye and then gave him a glare, she knew he wanted to go and see Anouk now, but she was not sure if it would be of any help to him. Skabrat had been using a special listening tube to spy on the giant talking to the traitor and at the realisation that he had been given crucial information to work on, she was annoyed that he was not acting upon it immediately.

  “Shouldn’t you get out there and find Leridan before anything else happens? There’s no telling how long it’ll be before the attack comes and if Leridan is involved he could affect the strength of the shield and…” Skabrat began but it was obvious that the Karayan was more interested in a selfish matter as he turned his masked face towards her and his yellow eyes flickered with a crocodile-like aggression. She went quiet, scowling but too fearful of what the eyes alone could do to her then to try; but the Karayan flicked a finger for her to inform Droy and Martum of everything and start the hunt. She nodded her head gently before permitting her jailers to lead the Karayan down to the deep corridor of screaming individuals in search of Anouk.

  The moment he stepped into the passages the screams became more inane, louder and manic until the Karayan moved a foot across the threshold of the passage and there was silence. He ignored the soul-less eyes that locked onto him, trembling with the terror of beings long condemned to a living hell where they could see their families weeping for or being ashamed of them but could not react the way they wanted. Down a sharp turn in this pitiful place, the Karayan was led to the iron grate that sat in front of a steep, smooth stone slope into a cell painted crimson where a figure trembled against straw and the Karayan’s jaw tightened with a loud clenching grind.

  He stared down at her trembling form within the hole in silence, his heart sinking as he noticed the ill state of her care and the morphed shape of her legs. In all his time within this distorted society, the Karayan had not once felt a need to tear the place apart as he did so now looking down at her pitiful state. He almost howled out in rage as he looked to the bald head and the pallid fingers that shook with cold. He knew that whatever he said would be marked against him, recorded by the figures that pressed near in hungry anticipation for him to confirm her as a traitor, but he could not prevent himself from growling down to her.

  “If you ask it of me Anouk… I’ll rip these bars away and pull you out to safety.”

  For a moment there was no response until the long ears twitched and slowly the head was turned about to face him. Though her hair was gone and her appearance was more wretched and pitiful than he could ever recall seeing, Anouk’s eyes flared with a green fire that made him hiss softly in return. Her mouth did not move, but her eyes roved about her crimson prison for a moment before she shifted to face him. The Karayan almost cursed when Anouk rolled onto her front, grunting in pain as she then slithered her way along the smooth stone towards him. Her strength was clearly diminished, but her mind and her determination was not as she pulled herself close to the bars and wheezed in pain.

  “I have a different job for you.” Anouk stated and to her surprise she noticed the almost sad puppy face of the Karayan behind his mask and she snorted at him. In her mind there was not even the need to consider her safety or indeed to fuss about her treatment – conversations were a waste of time when she had to get the truth to him. When he breathed a low sigh of acceptance, Anouk pulled herself up into a sitting position but then flopped over clumsily. The Karayan nearly reached out to grab her but she sneered at hi
m. “Do not bother with my health and my welfare… the attack will come very soon and the traitor will not necessarily reveal itself the way the council assumes… if only because there are two traitors.”

  “Two traitors? Are you quite sure?” The Karayan’s citron eyes flashed with hunger and frustration as he considered what she meant. Yes, he had a culprit in mind but what about Anouk? Would their minds combine or would she have a completely different thought in mind to confuse him even more so? When he gave a soft snort, and wished to question more, she lifted her hand to keep him silent so that he only understood what was going on. However, her green eyes noticed the interest in the guards and her fears for safety meant that she had to be careful how to state her thoughts.

  “Leridan is definitely doing something… his access to the magical world means that his mind is open and if he hasn’t been taking the medicines provided for him by the priests then he could be grasped by demons. He’s insane… seeking power because he has always sought a way to make himself even more worth the attention of his father…” Anouk suddenly gave a groan and shudder of agony and the Karayan gave a slight snarl of frustration. Anouk eyed him cautiously before stretching out a hand towards the entrance, desperate to make him understand more. “Only the priest and the fool’s father have contact with his medicine and that’s why you have to find them both.”

  “Understood… we’re seeking Leridan too, but who is Leridan’s father?” The Karayan snorted but Anouk breathed a soft sigh of frustration. She thought it would be clear enough to anyone looking or paying attention and yet she could not blame a stranger for being so careless. Indeed, she almost felt sorry for the Karayan’s ignorance in this matter, for she could only imagine what he might think to understand this… tragic thing. With a soft sigh she managed to stretch her hand through the bars, he stretched his own claws out to grasp her tenderly, making them both sigh with reassurance.

  “Zehna… Leridan’s mother died in the process and she was Zehna’s mistress because the king chose a wife for him he could not refuse but he really did not like. Come to think of it… she died last year under mysterious circumstances… went totally crazy with an idea that a creature was crawling up into her brain and making her want to do terrible things. She killed herself…”

  “Well, that mystery is solved… I shall fetch him straightaway. But… I can’t leave you in such a state Anouk. I need to heal you.” In truth, he wanted to just rip the bars out and give her a healthy meal, bath and a rest. He wanted to soothe the nasty scabs upon her head where her hair was trying to break through and to caress her damaged limbs that appeared so neglected and deformed. He pinched her hand tightly though she scowled up towards him and looked ready to swear and chase him off in whatever way possible. However, with a sigh Anouk lowered her head with a gentle grunt of resignation as she glared up at him and he nodded his head in understanding. “Someone else told you we’d need you? It’s true… whatever is coming needs more than a cursed being like me… it needs a Benaga. My blood can heal your limbs, soothe your body but I cannot make your hair grow back any faster or awaken your magic. Will these damage your ability to fight?”

  “It is said that the Benaga magic is so based on fighting that only when amid battle does our magic truly show itself. I think I will be fine… worst case scenario I’ll leap into the jaws of death for the sake of my king.” Anouk stated with a grunt and in such a masculine echoing of her grandfather that the guards listening in lowered their heads in shame for thinking anything bad of her. They should never assume a Benaga could be anything but loyal and yet when the Karayan bent forward and snatched Anouk’s wrist tightly in his hand, they almost feared something terrible might happen. However, the Karayan merely ran a claw through her flesh, drawing blood before doing the same to himself and then slapping the wounds together. In a sudden shimmering and hissing of some pink acidic froth that made the guards faint in shock, Anouk and the Karayan shared their blood and their abilities to heal one another. Though she screamed as the bones in her legs were stretched and twisted back into their proper position, there was no doubt she would be ready for battle now. When the Karayan then released her hand, he made a notion of her hand toward his mouth, as if to kiss it and her eyes widened in surprise – but all too quickly he pulled away and began his hunt.

  It must have been night, but Damara could hardly settle down to sleep when the world outside felt more morbid and on edge than it had been in the grove of spore trees. Damara could hardly put a name to the sensations of anxiety that knotted her gut or ate at her ears… making them twitch and tremble at every possible sound. She regretted Saravona taking that ridiculously adorable little lizard with her, if only because his constant bumbling into the room or snotty snorts at night were reassuring. It must have been quite late though as there was only silence in the household to say that Droy and Martum were asleep together and the Karayan was probably doing whatever he did… whether it was sleep or just meditation. However, Damara had not even seen any of them today and had busied herself in reading through the religious texts to find the correct prayers and offerings to give Nabuto for the sake of her sister, only to find that there was no way to pray for a woman in prison. She was confident though that the three of them must be in the household… but if they were not then was this the cause of this fear?

  Damara was just on the edge of slipping back to her dreamy state of partial awareness when she felt a sensation as cold as ice slice up her leg. She gave a gasp of pain, grabbing the bare pallid flesh and feeling something liquid. Trembling with terror she slowly lifted her fingers to her face and spotted the crimson specks of blood with her big eyes and she almost gave a scream until something made her freeze. Clamping her jaw shut as she stood herself up, Damara realised that she was in some serious trouble and with a growl she stumbled out of the bedroom and into the hallway as if she were being pushed out at knife-point. The moment she got into the corridor she noticed that there was something unusual flashing outside and swiftly Damara stepped to the edge of the large crystal window and stared out through the distorted veil of finely-polished stone. She gripped it tightly to try and gain some reality against the terrifying presence she felt around her. Her whole body felt as if coated in the fine threads of spider webbing she might have blundered into, the invisible strands pulling her about and making her feel no more than a puppet.

  “By Nabuto… what is…” Damara began but then something unusual happened, a spot of red light flicked the edge of the crystal in front of her and it shattered violently. Damara gave a scream but the words were robbed from her tongue as she felt something like a foot crash into her already flailing body and push her firmly forward. She fell out of the gap and thumped with a bark of pain into a large patch of bouncy moss left out for such danger. When she rolled off the mosses to land on the stone of the cave with a thud and a groan, the brightly coloured plants illuminated the pathways as she stared upward towards a curious figure that was staring at her with a vicious grin of delight. “I… I don’t know you…”

  “You don’t… but I know you little Benaga.” The figure was tall, lean to a point he appeared sickly with a pallid head that was almost completely bald save for a crest of braided bright-green hair down the centre. It was bound up in criss-crossing red vines that marked him out as a mage from the magical order, but normally they wore a star covered blue scarf about their mouths when in public and this figure was not. Instead he was wearing a thick brown habit as if he were part of the religious sect, his thin long fingers writhing in the air like the tentacles of some vicious monster. His great blue eyes were shining with the hunger of the insane and Damara shuddered violently under his gaze. “Do you know why I’m here?”

  “No…” Damara was scared, she felt a cool sweat creep down her spine as she managed to straighten herself onto her feet and pull her hands close to her neck. She was then aware of the lack of a scarf about her head and she swiftly stretched up her hands to try and cover her hair from his eyes. Th
e sensation of being a puppet was gone and Damara had the most wretched thought that this being had been using forbidden magic to control her. The figure did not seem to care though, his mouth was starting to shift with a curious kind of rippling motion as if he was trying to speak but something was stopping him. Everything about him was distorted and quite clearly deranged; then it hit Damara who this figure might be. “Are you Lord Zehna’s son?”

  The mention of his father’s name seemed to be enough to make Leridan shudder in confusion and his eyes to widen in a mix of sorrow and delight. He had never been identified as his father’s son before, at least not by someone noble like Damara and it pleased him. No one had ever seemed to be so willing to associate his mania to his father before and for a short small time it seemed to make him feel piteous towards her, kindly perhaps for being respected for the first time as what he wanted to be. But then something made his left eyelid snap open and shut in rapid succession and his lips purse and make popping sounds as his hands trembled towards his side. He reached for a knife within his long thick sleeves and Damara knew she was dead if she did not react responsibly.

  If this was a mage than there was no way Damara was going to be able to fight him off with magic and without her sword her options were even more limited. She had no spell to summon her blade to her but she did have another spell. As Leridan continued to twitch and jolt as he fought back whatever was trying to take control of this situation, Damara pulled her hands together and started to gather her energy. Normally she could only do it with her eyes closed and imagine the energy in her head, but this time she could not let her eyes leave her attacker. Damara made a mental prayer to Nabuto and then felt some cold yet static vibration travel through her hands and she tried to feel the shape of a blade with her fingers, coxing the magic to slip out toward her and do something.

  The moment she felt something like glass forming in the palm of one hand, Leridan charged at her with his knife and Damara leapt away. She felt his blade shred her sleeve, cutting the flesh below but knocking his balance as well as hers. Damara knew she should be thinking about running for her life now, rushing down the tunnel to the Core’s Headquarters and screaming at them for help, but she could not. Though it was the most sensible course of action, Damara did not want to run anymore when it was this being that had killed Jarl’s wife as well as framed her sister; she wanted to fight him. He’d damaged the pride and nobility of her family and though it was a sin, she wanted nothing more than to prove herself as an important member of the Benaga household and a capable warrior. When she turned around it was in time to swing the glass-like shard of ice in her hand and slice across Leridan’s right temple, making him shriek as he charged her.