Broken Crown

by Drae Box

  “If you hadn’t disturbed me–”

  He growled, shaking his head. “You don’t even know if he would have taken you to your uncle,” snapped Raneth. He strode over to Rider and shook his shoulder. “Wake up. I’m taking Aldora to grab a newspaper and see what’s going on locally that we need to know about. You need to get out of the building before the workmen come. Find us a good base to operate from and we’ll meet up in the cemetery as soon as we can.” He placed all of his throwing daggers at Rider’s side and reclaimed his sword. “Keep the daggers.” He paused, glancing at Aldora, before he pulled free his grebunar from his belt’s pouch and handed it to Rider. “Keep this on you. Just in case. It’s linked up to one I’ve given Aldora.”

  His friend lifted the old grebunar to his eye, inspecting the whirls and the small chain that connected to it. He undid the clasp and fitted it around a wrist. “Thanks. I’ll find us somewhere with a high vantage point, if I can.” Rider glanced at Aldora as he stretched. “What are you going do with her?”

  “Keep her close,” admitted Raneth. He watched Aldora testing where her body hurt by stretching. “And you’re not to hurt her again, OK?”

  “If that’s what you want, but remember, I warned you. She’s not good for you.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” Raneth strode over to Aldora and took hold of her hand. “Let’s go. We need local intelligence – we’re grabbing a newspaper.”

  The Brethren and Guardsmen swarmed the streets but Raneth led Aldora away from each knot of them, twisting and turning through the streets and alleyways. He couldn’t risk his being seen. Nor Aldora. Not now Broken Crown knew to look for her. Not after last night. His gut twisted as he thought of the danger Aldora was willing to put herself into just to talk to her uncle. It was reckless. Reckless but understandable. After all, here he was, trying to secure the kingdom against a man who had clearly been planning for years. Aldora was quiet as they walked and dashed through the streets of the village, which looked awful around them. Not as bad as the Brown Buzzard Village, granted, but bad enough that months would have to go into strengthening the structures. Some buildings would need to be rebuilt from scratch too.

  He glanced at Aldora at his side. Could Giften afford to rebuild her village a second time? More completely than the first time? I doubt it. They were almost on the other side of the village to the confectionary and newspaper shop he had been aiming for. The Brethren and Guardsmen were making this more difficult than he had planned. A few villagers were rushing through the streets, seemingly trying to avoid the members of Broken Crown just as he was. He watched two young teens bolting through their street, vanishing almost immediately as they rushed through a side road. One had been dripping blood from their left hand, their sleeve soaked. He dragged Aldora into another street, afraid that the teens might be fleeing Denzel’s men. He paused, resting his back against a cobbler’s wall, giving himself a moment to catch his breath and try to work out how to get closer to their target. At his side, Aldora huffed and panted, sucking in breath after breath through her teeth. He strode forwards, his hand still holding Aldora’s. I just have to keep us safe until Cray’s back on the throne, the royal official reminded himself as he watched her wince with each step she took, her free hand clamped to her chest. Then I can worry about what this all means for Aldora and me. He pulled her into a side turning when another civilian joined them on the street.

  “We can’t avoid everyone,” whispered Aldora. “It’s going to get busier. Just put your hood up.”

  “You don’t have a hood on your jacket,” stated Raneth, nodding at her.

  “I’m not the one in danger,” stated Aldora. “It’s just you and any other recognisable royal official.”

  “Fine,” grumbled Raneth. He yanked his hood up, and tugged the edges into place until it obscured the upper half of his face. “Better?”

  “Yeah. Can you still see?”

  “Just.” He reclaimed her hand and led her back into the street. “There should be a newspaper and Southern sweetshop just up ahead,” he stated. “I’ll need you to go inside and get a copy of the paper. Can you do that?” Raneth slipped a hand into his left trouser pocket and withdrew a few glibs. “That should be enough.”

  “We’re going to need some more money if we’re to keep going.”

  “Only after the royal official rations get used up,” stated Raneth. “We need nothing else. There’s always shelter if you look hard enough.”

  “Or you help yourself to somebody’s building,” muttered Aldora.

  Raneth glowered at her. “I relocked it. It’s not normal royal official procedure, but last night it was necessary that we get a good night’s sleep. Thanks for that, by the way. I honestly thought somebody had come in and dragged you off, or Rider had kicked you out. We’re lucky I got enough sleep to have my gift-self available if we need it.”

  “You would have heard if someone had dragged me out or Rider had attacked me,” stated Aldora.

  I suppose that’s true. Thank you, griffin-self. Raneth stepped behind Aldora as a group of men strolled down the street past them, a Brethren walking behind them. I wonder if this place has a curfew like Green. It doesn’t seem so, not with civilians out and about already.

  “Newspaper shops open early for royal officials because of the foodstuffs they carry,” said Raneth. He frowned. I didn’t think this through. “They might not do that anymore with Broken Crown in charge, though.”

  “I think it’ll just depend on their customers and how they feel about you guys,” stated Aldora. “I bet you we’ll be OK.” Turning around a corner revealed a small shop further down the road, gently lit by candlelight in its large front window. “I’ll just be a few seconds,” promised Aldora before she stepped inside.

  Raneth cast his attention outwards. The rooftops were deserted, but if Broken Crown were to get their way, that would mean no more royal officials using them as shortcuts, and no criminals adapting to the same trick. The street either side of him had very little foot traffic; a unit of Guardsmen strode down the left side of the street where he and Aldora had come from. To Raneth’s right, a pair of chatting old ladies strolled towards the corner shop. He looked towards the brown jackets again. If I can’t keep off the Denzites’ radar, I’m in trouble the longer I stay out in public.

  “Raneth,” uttered Aldora softly at his side as the bell on the door rang. She shoved the newspaper into his hand. “Uncle Denzel’s going to kill my sister. She tried to kill him yesterday.”

  What? Raneth swept his gaze to the front page. A black-and-white Southern Kingdom camera print looked back at him, showing the face of Alika Brice – his royal official partner and Aldora’s elder half-sister. Raneth felt his heart skip a beat and his insides felt as if they had melted.

  “You see what your uncle’s capable of?” he growled, before falling quiet and looking down at his feet as the Guardsmen came in line with them. Aldora stayed silent too, and the Guardsmen continued without intercepting them.

  “I just need to talk to him to make it stop, Raneth,” she stated when they had passed. “We can’t let him hurt Alika. I didn’t think he would… I still don’t think he would hurt my family, but we can’t risk it. Please help me save her.”

  “Of course I’m gonna help you save her,” said Raneth, looking at the photograph of his friend glaring back at him, daring him to say something stupid. “I’d never let anything happen to her. She’s one of my best friends.” He shoved the newspaper back into Aldora’s hands. “We’ll go and get her right now. Before it gets too light and any lookouts can see us too easily when we make our approach. We should tell Rider first.”

  “But you. Oh. By grebunar? I couldn’t get it to work in Green when we got separated.”

  “It was too dangerous for me to answer,” said Raneth, watching as Aldora slipped the grebunar out from her pocket. He took a wary step back. Modern grebunars, at least, any that were under two hundred years old gave him the worst headaches of his l
ife. He had to be grateful that the magic in them wasn’t the most concentrated and didn’t lead to a fit thanks to his magic allergy. Knowing that didn’t make him feel any less uncomfortable around the one he had given her.

  Aldora looked at him. “Do you want me to give you space?”

  Looking around, Raneth took some comfort in that the street was empty again except for them. But all it takes is a moment, he thought. One moment and they could have Aldora. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “My reaction won’t be dangerous as long as I don’t touch it.”

  “It won’t make you throw-up or black out?”

  Sometimes the headaches would make him puke and see stars. He wasn’t going to admit that though. They had to let Rider know what they were doing. He was their only ally. If something went wrong... “I might give you a little space,” he murmured reluctantly, taking five steps away from her. He checked the entrances to the street they were on. He was still closer to Aldora than those were. He’d have to just hope if anyone came near, they would be civilians or Guardsmen, not Brethren.

  “OK then.” Aldora didn’t look too sure, her brown eyes watching him closely. Raneth tugged his hood and gestured for her to get on with it. He watched as she squeezed the grebunar and something twinged behind his eyes. He winced, squeezing his eyes as the headache burst into his head like stampeding dragons. He bit his lip, holding back the groan that wanted to escape his lips as the whirls on the surface of the grebunar glowed a bright blue before the sphere lifted into the air and hung just above Aldora’s head. Raneth clamped a hand to the side of his head, briefly closing his eyes again as a glowing flat circular image of Rider looked back at Aldora. Though the circle faced Aldora, it mirrored what Aldora could see on its other side, allowing Raneth to see Rider’s eyes widen. From experience, Raneth knew Rider wouldn’t be able to see him unless he moved into view alongside Aldora.

  “What happened?” snarled Rider. “Did you get Raneth killed already?”

  “What? No!” Aldora pointed in Raneth’s direction. He lowered his hand and gave her a weak smile, black dots dancing at the edges of his vision. “He’s avoiding an MIR attack. He’s right there.”

  The image turned slightly, allowing Rider to see Raneth.

  Raneth blinked his eyes hard, trying to knock away the black dot that was creeping closer to the centre of his vision. “Tell him.”

  “Tell me what?” asked Rider, the image turning back to fully face Aldora.

  “My sister is going to be killed. She tried to kill my uncle yesterday. We’re going to try and rescue her from their headquarters.”

  “And take out Denzel?” asked Rider.

  “No,” said Raneth, lifting his voice to ensure Rider would hear him. “Not yet. We rescue Alika and regroup.”

  “Fine.” Rider’s hand reached for his grebunar and his palm filled the flat image before Aldora’s disconnected and dropped into her waiting palm.

  She looked to Raneth. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

  Raneth gritted his teeth. The black dots were going but the heavy thud, thud, thud was still rampaging between his temples. “I’ll be fine,” he ground out. “Let’s go.”

  Head pounding, Raneth sprinted towards the factories in the southeast of the village with Aldora at his side. He knew which of the buildings they sought. As the streets started to grow busier, Raneth held the edge of his hood to his face, keeping the material up to hide his identity. They dodged around Brethren and Guardsmen, and Raneth was surprised when none chased after them. They must think Aldora and I have somewhere to be, and aren’t in the mood to find out where exactly. That or they really haven’t been trained. Anyone trained in the army would stop us and question us.

  He jerked to a stop as they reached the edge of the last building before the one they needed. The repurposed factory before him was taller than the still-operating factories around it by one additional layer, and with its three floors, it had a clear view over the flat rooftops of its neighbours. Each side sported a set of metal stairs that went to the upper floors. The frames of each window in the building were freshly painted in a dark purple, and the large door gaping open in front of Raneth and Aldora opened onto what should have been a loading bay, but there were Brethren walking in and out in small groups, with Guardsmen mingled between them. That’s the morning’s patrols switching over, realised Raneth as he watched them all interspersing.

  Five Brethren came towards him and Aldora. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her into a doorway a little away from the edge of the path and hid her with his body, pressing them both to the door as the Brethren strolled past, arguing about someone called Dashiell. When they were gone, Raneth stepped free of the doorway and looked at Aldora. She was grimacing, both hands to her chest.

  “I think my ribs are bruised or broken from Rider’s gift-horse.”

  He felt a pang of guilt at the movement he had just thrust her into, and how he had rested his back against her as the Brethren had moved past. If Cray and Quinn were in charge, she’d be housebound until further notice.

  “You can’t be out in the field with that sort of damage without training,” he whispered. The Brethren and Guardsmen hadn’t wasted any time. Barely any remained near the building. We were lucky only that small group came our way, he thought. If more of them had passed them, the chance of being seen would have been greater. His headache’s thumping losing some of its punch, he watched a lone Guardsman that was loitering by the loading bay, rolling a cigarette. “You should…”

  He paused, trying to decide exactly what she should do. The nearest place that would take her in was where he was planning to creep into, but that would involve handing her over to her uncle. Where could she go otherwise? He had no idea where the rest of her family was, or who would take her in without telling Broken Crown where she was. I’m not even sure if the doctors here will keep her presence a secret.

  “What do you want to do? I don’t know where you can lay low whilst I go and grab your sister.”

  “I’m not leaving you to do it by yourself,” stated Aldora. “Alika is more likely to get out unharmed if we both go in there to get her.”

  Raneth nodded with a small smile. “I agree. I’m just worried about your chest. If any of those ribs are fully broken, or splintered, you could end up with a pierced lung.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Raneth,” stated Aldora determinedly. “My sister needs me.”

  OK, I suppose that’s us done talking about that. Raneth gave a nod to show he was accepting her decision then turned his focus onto the lone Guardsman.

  “I can knock that guy out and we can get in the loading bay, but I’m a little worried that it’s a busy part of the factory. We need to find a quieter place to enter.”

  “Quieter like up those metal stairs?” asked Aldora, nodding towards the nearest set, the one on the left side of the building.

  “It’ll have to do,” decided Raneth. “Try not to give us away with your feet on the steps, and move fast. We’ll be dangerously exposed.”

  Aldora pointed at the Guardsman. “Can you steal his jacket to give you a bit of camouflage?”

  “I could do.” Raneth watched as the Guardsman turned his back to the loading bay door and rested his side against the repurposed factory’s wall. “I can do that now.” He paused and looked upwards, checking the rooftops for any eyes looking back at him, Aldora or the Guardsman. “I don’t see anyone observing our surroundings. I don’t think your uncle bothered to train his men very well.”

  “That’s good,” stated Aldora. “Less work for you. You can dodge instead of attacking.”

  Raneth nodded. “I prefer that,” he confessed. “Alright. I’ll go grab the jacket. You get ready to sprint to those stairs once I’ve got it and stashed the guy’s body in that large bin there, OK?” He nodded towards a large bin in front of the factory’s neighbouring building on its left side.

  “Ready when you are.”

  The royal official darted close to the Guardsman
, running in line with the loading bay wall, his breath quiet as he kept it tightly in check. He slowed to a stop behind the Guardsman and wrapped the crook of his elbow around the man’s neck and squeezed, as his other hand slapped over the man’s nose and mouth. He pinched the man’s nose and waited as the Guardsman struggled against him, the stronger hands reaching up to his face, trying to find his eyes with his thumbs. Raneth jerked his head side to side as the Guardsman continued to reach for his eyes, but the criminal’s strength started to fail. The criminal went limp in Raneth’s arms, so he dropped him on the ground and checked he was unconscious. Content, Raneth took the brown jacket and threw it on over his hoodie. He glanced towards Aldora and saw her draw a little closer, so he dumped the unconscious Guardsman into the softer-looking bags of rubbish in the bin, and then sprinted to the metal stairs alongside Aldora.

  He crept up the stairs, ignoring the flakes of paint that tried to bite into his hand from the railing. At the top, he grabbed the handle of a green door, opened it a fraction and peered inside. Nobody. Good. He stepped inside and waited for Aldora to join him.

  She came in almost as soon as he moved to the side. They were in what looked like a small office. Makes sense they gutted this place to rebuild the inside, otherwise the factory would be a poor operations post, noted Raneth. But there’s no window. This room won’t be Denzel’s. He would want a window – any boss would.

  He ignored the table in the centre of the room, as well as the potted plant in one corner and the wooden chair behind the desk, and went instead to the far door. Peering through the keyhole, he saw something black give way to a green wall on the other side of the door. A Brethren must have just walked past. He straightened and looked at Aldora over his shoulder.