Broken Crown

by Drae Box

  Her scream erupted as a human scream and her uncle smirked.

  “You shouldn’t have chosen their side,” snarled Denzel, jabbing the Dagger towards Aldora.

  Two forks of lighting burst from the blade but arched around her, smashing into the walls either side of the door.

  Aldora’s eyes widened. The Dagger’s refusal to hurt her met her expectations, but it was the last piece of evidence she needed to be sure her uncle didn’t want, and couldn’t, be saved from himself.

  She pounced, grabbing her uncle’s wrist with both her hands. She took his punch to her side and gasped as he struck her again; his fists were undisciplined, hitting her wherever he could reach. Aldora kept hold of the wrist of the hand that held the Dagger, pushing back against him as he turned the Dagger to face her.

  Even if the Dagger doesn’t want to hurt me, he can still use the blade.

  Aldora grunted and shoved harder, sucking in a mouthful of fresh air that crept through the window and, for a moment, cleared some of the smoke. Fury glinted in her uncle’s eyes and then they flickered to look at something behind her. Aldora barely held onto the Dagger as Denzel pushed harder, trying to distract her from whatever he’d seen.

  An arm wrapped around her waist and something cold pressed to the front of her neck.

  “Let go and back off.”

  Stilling, Aldora considered if she could. She didn’t know who was behind her, but they had managed to creep up because her focus was too heavily on Denzel. But the Dagger was so close. She glanced at it, wondering if she could force it to strike the person with the blade to her neck without touching the Dagger herself.

  “I said,” uttered the voice, “let go and back off.”

  Aldora slowly let go of Denzel and raised her hands to shoulder level. The touch at her waist lessened, but the blade stayed by her throat.

  “Get out,” said Koyla. “Head where I told you.”

  “The guns?” asked Denzel.

  “No time.” Koyla’s calloused hand grabbed the back of Aldora’s neck and yanked her towards his chest, moving her away from her uncle. “Get out, now. Bayre’s still here. He’s upstairs.” Denzel’s second in command let go of Aldora.

  She whirled round to face him.

  “Don’t follow us beyond this window,” warned Koyla. “Or I’ll grab the Dagger off your uncle and it’ll be the last thing you see before you bleed all over the floor.” He almost coughed but swallowed it.

  Behind him, a door swung open and Raneth Bayre stepped through. He frowned, looking at her through the dust and smoke that filled the air between them, and ignoring as Koyla stepped around her and headed for the window.

  “Aldora?”

  “Raneth!” She looked over her shoulder at Koyla. He was almost out of the window, and her uncle had already climbed through to the street outside.

  She felt more than heard as Raneth prowled over to her. “You’re letting them go?” he asked.

  “Koyla–” Aldora grasped Raneth’s shoulder as her lungs seized and a coughing fit erupted from her mouth.

  “Never mind,” growled Raneth. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he yanked her back through the doorway as the ceiling crashed towards them. A plume of smoke billowed out of the doorway, a fallen beam blocking them from chasing her uncle and Koyla. Raneth shoved something over her head and pulled it up to mask her nose and mouth. He coughed hard, but his hand slipped to hers and he led her into the next wing of the building and through the first door.

  Aldora let him drag her, trusting in him.

  What does he think he saw? Will he give me a chance to explain?

  They limped over to a window and Raneth used a throwing dagger to remove the remaining shards of glass in the frame. Then he turned and tugged Aldora to the window.

  “Get out,” he said, coughing out the words.

  She climbed out of the window, sighing as the warm air lessened in fierceness and the wind pushed at her, soothing her skin. Raneth climbed out too and regarded her closely for a moment, before looking to either side of them.

  Looking for Denzel and Koyla?

  “I’m gonna form and take us to the palace to meet up with the others,” he said when his gaze swept to hers. The left joint of his jaw flexed as he clenched and unclenched that side of his jaw, blue eyes inspecting the potential routes Koyla and Denzel could have taken. “Your uncle and Koyla will have to wait. I have to make sure the Kingdom’s Shield makes it back to the palace with Rider.” His sore eyes looked her up and down, no doubt noticing the blood on her clothes. “As we fly, you’re going to explain what in Giften’s soil I just saw.”

  Aldora nodded but hesitated, watching the white feathers already starting to form in his short black hair.

  “Raneth, shouldn’t we go after Denzel and the Dagger, and trust Rider?”

  “Too late,” he growled, the undertone of his voice accented by the whispered shriek of his gift-self. “You’re bleeding too much.”

  The following morning, Aldora woke to the constant tapping of heavy rain against the window of one of the royal palace’s guest bedrooms. With a small groan, she sat up, letting the yellow bedsheet fall to her lap as she ran a hand over her hair. I should check on Raneth.

  She shuffled out from under the covers and rubbed at the corners of her eyes. She walked over to the door, where she hesitated, looking down at the clothes Rider had grabbed for her to borrow from Lady Lemuela, Cray’s future heir to the throne. They’re not going to care that I’m in pink pyjamas.

  She stepped out into the corridor. The thick carpet tickled between her toes as she headed down the hall to the curving stairs. Her wounds ached, but not as badly as she had expected. Raneth had seen to them; he was the only one at the palace who knew how to stitch the larger, deeper wound that had slashed through the left side of her back. He’d told her he had left the lower part unstitched so it could leak whatever it needed to get rid of, and to let him flush the wound periodically without undoing the stitch work.

  Raneth’s probably not in bed, she thought as she paused at the top of the steps and looked to the right, towards Raneth’s bedroom in the palace. She frowned as she trotted downstairs. Wonder if the others of his rank have bedrooms here, or if that’s just a family thing. Alighting from the bottom step, Aldora swept into the kitchen.

  “Dad.”

  Her father stood at the side of the kitchen island, a cup of tea steaming in front of him on the work surface. She walked over and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, before withdrawing from her touch and striding over to put the kettle on the stove.

  “Where are Alika and Raneth? And the others?” asked Aldora. “I take it Raneth isn’t resting like he should be.”

  “You know him too well, Aldora,” stated Isadore as he took a cup from a cupboard above his head.

  Aldora leaned against the island. When the kettle started to sing, her father helped himself to a jar of green tea bags and plucked the kettle off the stove.

  “And?” she asked hopefully. “He’ll let me see him, wherever he is, won’t he?”

  “Well, he can’t exactly stop you,” stated Isadore, turning around, her tea in his hands. He gently slipped the mug into hers. “But I don’t think he knows what to do with you.”

  Aldora frowned.

  What on Giften soil does he mean by that?

  “You mean because I left his side?” she asked warily. “Or because I let Denzel and Koyla go? Koyla had a blade to my throat. I couldn’t–”

  Isadore nodded. “Yes. There are going to be a lot of questions coming your way from everyone important,” warned Isadore, “including the king, when he gets here. Raneth’s already sent word to him to come home.”

  Aldora smiled. “That’s good.”

  Her father nodded. “Yes. If you want to see Raneth, you’ll find him in the library with Elenee. They’re drafting letters to the settlements.” He paused, eyeing his daughter worriedly.

  “What is it, Dad?”
r />   “There’s a news reporter here too.”

  Aldora dared a smile. “Maybe they can help us.” She kissed her father’s cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Just mind what you say. I don’t want the newspapers twisting your words.” He paused and gently took hold of Aldora’s arm as she turned towards the door. “Sweetheart, I told Raneth this morning that he has my permission to marry you – I know Bayres are still expected to ask first, and he hasn’t actually asked me yet, but I gave him my blessing anyway. Nothing will get in your way now, but you need to make sure those questions are answered.”

  “Thank you,” she assured him. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

  Stepping out into the corridor, Aldora frowned. She walked as quietly as she could to the doorway of the library and hesitated there, her brown eyes focusing sharply on her partner. Raneth was favouring his back, resting his side against his chair instead of his back. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles on a corner of the table. A pad of paper sat on his thighs and he twirled a pen around in his right hand; his left hand rested against the table’s surface, his fingers curled slightly and a new burn scar on his palm.

  He spotted her looking at him and she gave him a weak smile. He frowned back at her and swallowed, his slim voice box dipping. Grimacing, he drew his legs off the table and eased into a stand.

  “I’ll be back in a moment,” he told Elenee, who was sitting at the other end of the table, hunched over the desk and writing furiously.

  Elenee looked towards the doorway and gave Aldora a small wave and a smile. “Take your time, Raneth.”

  Aldora walked into the library and spotted a woman she didn’t recognise waiting at a table to her left. That must be the reporter. She gave her a smile, but stopped walking when Raneth stepped up to her. The scent of the palace’s lemon soap reached out to her from his tall body.

  “Hi, Raneth,” she managed as she looked up at him, her smile growing increasingly weak.

  His blue gaze fell upon the reporter before he gently prised the cup from Aldora’s hands and set it on the nearest table. “We should talk,” he stated, still frowning.

  The Dagger Bearer tried to ignore the slight grumble that rumbled deep in his voice; he didn’t normally sound like that when he spoke to her. She gave a clipped nod.

  “Follow me,” he said, before sweeping past her and out of the library.

  Aldora watched as he stepped out of view and then looked warily at Elenee and the reporter.

  “Go on,” urged Elenee, beaming another smile at her. “You’re alright. He still loves you. Go, go.”

  Quickly, Aldora pursued Raneth; she found him waiting for her in the mission room. The room hummed softly with the Southern Kingdom technology that swamped its walls. A chair sat in the centre, with a large metal dish above it that looked like it would dip down over the top of the head of whoever sat there. Soft words bubbled to Aldora’s left. She glanced at the wall opposite the chair, the same one that held the door. Projected onto the white wall was a moving image of a woman in a street where the buildings had been burned beyond recognition. Aldora drew closer, watching the woman. Whoever she was, she wore a fresh royal official uniform.

  “I summoned a friend here to scout your village before Cray comes back,” stated Raneth. “Until then, I have to act as regent.”

  Aldora nodded thoughtfully then turned her gaze to Raneth. “Thank you.”

  “I’m just doing what’s expected of me,” he replied. He ran his palm over his hair and then winced and stopped, moving his hand to his front instead.

  “What did you do to your hand?” asked Aldora, looking at the new burn scar running across the centre of his palm.

  “Burned it on a door handle and some railing.” He looked down and slowly clenched and unclenched it. “Aldora, your father gave me his blessing to marry you.”

  The Dagger Bearer drew close to Raneth. “And?” she asked warily.

  He stayed quiet as he looked away from her, towards the back of the room, where a grebunar was slotted into the contraption that was projecting the image onto the wall. He shook his head.

  “I’m not sure if we should still be a couple.”

  Feeling tears pricking at her eyes, Aldora drew as close as she dared to the Bayre. She placed one hand on her stomach and with the other gently grasped his hand.

  “Raneth,” she uttered softly. “I’m so sorry I let you down.” She gently slipped her hand to the side of his face and rubbed his cheekbone with a thumb. “I should have stayed at your side,” she whispered as her voice caught in her throat. “I made a mistake. Please forgive me, darling.”

  Her hand slid to the front of Raneth’s chest, but when he winced she pulled away. Even though forming would have healed the wounds, they would still hurt for a while as if they were fresh.

  “I knew you could kill my uncle. But I thought it was better for everyone if I got near to him, to try and talk him out of hurting you and the others. I wanted to get the Dagger back too, Raneth. I didn’t want to fail my village again either, the people who survived the attack and fled, that is.”

  She glanced towards the moving image and watched as the royal official made a note on a small notepad that she then slipped into her pocket before continuing on down the blackened street.

  “I know now that he’s strong enough to hurt people, even family. That he’s the enemy you warned me he was.” Aldora looked into Raneth’s eyes, watching as twin tears broke out across his eyelashes. “Please forgive me, Raneth. I’m so sorry.”

  “I know,” he replied. He rubbed at his tears with the heel of his good hand and sniffed. “You made a mistake. It happens. But… Look, everyone’s going to have an opinion about you, including people who can force my hand.”

  Aldora nodded. “Your dad?” she guessed.

  “And Cray.”

  She folded her arms. “And what do you think?”

  “I… I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Whoever I marry, I’d like to know they have my back.”

  “Which I didn’t,” said Aldora as she felt her stomach churn. “Let me earn your trust again. Please. I don’t care how long it takes.”

  “I’m not banning you from seeing me,” stated Raneth. “I’m just saying that, right now, I’m confused about how I should treat you, how I should even think about you. One part of me wants to avoid you, another part wants to run my hands all over you and make sure you’re not hurt.” He paused, eyeing one of the cuts visible on the front of her neck. “More hurt, anyway.”

  “We don’t have to rush into anything, right?” asked Aldora.

  “I…” Raneth shifted his weight. “Technically, by family rules, I’m supposed to be a married father already.”

  “So screw your rules,” snapped Aldora. “Don’t let them box you in, darling.”

  “I don’t intend to if I can help it.” He gave her the slightest hint of a smile. “But this could be the end of us.”

  Aldora tried not to cry, but her lower lip started to tremble. “I’ll give you all the space you need,” she said, rushing the words before he could ask her to leave. “Please, though, let me help you until Cray and the others come back at least, OK?”

  He nodded. “Alright.”

  Raneth reached into his back pocket and handed her a folded brown paper file. She opened it curiously. Drawings of her greeted her gaze, all displaying her in a Brethren jacket. She winced and looked up at Raneth. “What is this?” she asked.

  “Something I found when I was trying to find your uncle. Know anything about it?”

  “My uncle wanted me to inherit Broken Crown.” She glanced at the drawings. “And to use me to encourage others to join.”

  “That makes sense.” Raneth gently took the file back from Aldora and set it down on the seat in the centre of the room. “These must have been plans for recruitment posters or something. Cray will investigate this.”

  “Let him,” offered Aldora. “I’ve nothing to hide
but my shame that I betrayed your trust in me, and that I didn’t trust your experience with bad people.”

  He stilled as he watched her, and his shoulders slowly lowered. “I sent Rider to Icoque to look for any signs of your uncle and to arrest him, but I don’t think he’ll stick to the arrest orders. By Apocolletio Law, your uncle can be immediately executed by a representative of the law. I’m hoping he’ll have the Dagger of Protection on him, but I don’t even know if Cray will let you be its Bearer again, considering how easily Thane took it.”

  Aldora frowned. “I didn’t let him take it.”

  “I’ll tell him as much,” offered Raneth. “When Cray takes over control of the kingdom again, I’m going to go and help Rider, if Cray’ll let me. If Denzel Leoma has the Dagger, I don’t want Rider dealing with it without me.”

  “You should rest,” said Aldora gently.

  “Can’t. I’m the royal official captain. As soon as Cray’s back, I’m heading straight out into the field. I have to set the example, Aldora. I have to show any royal officials who went into hiding that it’s OK to come out again and to continue working like normal. That’s partly why that vulture is here.”

  He must mean the reporter.

  “And I have no idea the full extent of the damage your uncle has done to kingdom security. Royal officials are going to be backed up for a while with the workload. I have to take as much of the strain as I can, and I’m gonna ask my dad to help out too. With his dragon-self he’s faster than most of us, and if we give him execution orders, he can take them out pretty quickly and move on to the next target.”

  Raneth walked towards the door but hesitated, looking back at her. “You should come and tell the reporter everything you saw and how it made you feel. You need to start clearing your name where you can, and limit any damage your association with Broken Crown might have caused. Take a moment if you need to. There’s no rush. She’ll wait on you.”