by Kate Sander
“I love you,” he signed. She stared, heart thumping so loud she was sure he would hear it from across the room. She couldn’t move, she answer.
Jules gave her a full thirty seconds to say or do anything. Turning beet red, he fumbled for the door behind him, “I understand you don’t feel the same way. Don’t think this will change anything. I’ll always have your back.” He found the latch behind him and turned to flee.
Senka gave her sharp whistle, and Jules turned around slowly. She beckoned him to her with one finger. Jules’ heart burst with joy. He’d never been a happier man. He closed the door behind him, strode towards her and kissed her fiercely. His hands cradled the sides of her face, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever let her go. His heart melted when she didn’t pull away but kissed him back. She fumbled at the front of his cloak, trying to get it off it. He laughed, the giggle escaping his throat. Pure joy.
Jules picked her up and took her to the bed. Clothes were torn. Senka had never been touched that way. The sensations were new and wonderful. Nothing could compare. As they fell into darkness and pleasure, Senka heard him whisper in her ear, “I love you.” Her heart melted. She would protect her family at all cost. She gasped in pleasure as he entered her. Looking deep into his eyes, he understood.
She loved him too.
22
Armend
It had been two weeks since the King’s death, and Armend had never been happier. Even if he had to keep is joy to himself. He played the role of the grieving uncle well, even breaking down in sobs while giving the eulogy at the funeral. The King had been burned on a bonfire, as was traditional for the monarchy. Thousands from Solias came to grieve and Armend made sure thousands of the Sun Gods were dressed in their heavy armour.
It was a funeral fit for a King.
Pitiful.
Armend had been wearing black for the past fortnight, but he had gradually started to add colour. You couldn’t grieve forever. In two weeks he had also gradually started forming a plan. The Queen knew. He didn’t know how, normally he could lie his way to anything with ease. But the Queen knew he had killed the King. Armend had regretted his decision of pouring the poison into the King’s glass as the Queen looked at him across the dead body. After he had removed himself from the room, in “fits of grief”, he had gone to the market and thrown the flask in the moat. He had returned to his chamber for an ale and had thought, long and hard, about what his plans would be.
He had gradually understood that, though brash, his actions had been for the better. The King and Queen were driving Solias into the ground. Their thoughts of peace were rudimentary and dumb. He needed to save the city and return it to the glory of Sol XVII. Sol XVII would have approved the killing of his son, it was for the good of Solias. Now he had to get the Queen under control. She was in control of the city solo, and that would never do.
In Solias, the King and Queen ruled in tandem, each having fifty percent of say of what happens in the city. Now the Queen would have full power until she remarried or died. Then the throne would go to Sol XIX. And with Sol XIX still in the picture, it didn’t matter if the Queen had a hundred more children with her new husband, Sol was next in line for the throne.
Armend knew that he had to become King. This was the only way he could help bring Solias from the brink. He also knew that the Queen had made the Sol line weak through her low-class genes. Armend wasn’t doing this for himself, it was for the good of the city.
The night he killed the King, he had never slept better.
Armend had sent word a month ago to an Exalted specializing in assassination and was waiting for the confirmation that Sol XIX (or Sol the Weak as Armend called him) was dead. It was always in his original plan to kill off the weak bloodline. Confirmation of success had never come. It was time to act, hopefully the assassin had just been caught up with hookers and alcohol in Carabesh. If not, then Armend needed to fix the situation. Now.
Armend and Sebastian were heading to the Queen’s chambers. They stopped in front of the door. Armend knocked.
“Still no word from the assassin?” Sebastian said casually.
“No, so we must lie. I doubt the little weakling prince was any match for one of my Exalted. But the Queen doesn’t know we haven’t heard.”
Sebastian nodded and the servant boy, dressed all in black, opened the door. Armend thought he saw a swish of black fabric going around the corner, but he couldn’t be sure. The servant led them to the guests’ quarters where the Queen was sitting on the couch reading a book. She was dressed in a high clasped black dress. She glanced up, gently marked the page, and set it down on the table in purposeful movements. Armend realized she had been expecting them.
Her eyes were hard. Cold disdain seeped from her pores and made him uncomfortable. Everyone loved Armend. And those who didn’t feared him. Fear was much better than hate, and Armend didn’t know how to deal with it. Sebastian and Armend stood awkwardly. The Queen did not rise nor did she invite them to sit. She stayed on the couch and stared.
Finally, awkward, Armend said, “How have you been, my Lady?”
“Would have been better if you hadn’t murdered my husband.”
Armend turned and nodded to Sebastian who went and closed the door. “I didn’t murder anyone,” Armend said silkily. He sat across from her in a chair, uninvited. She prickled in indignation. “Now,” he said, staring her down. She wasn’t intimated, and matched the stare. This might not be as easy as he thought. “Now, we need to have a little chat.”
“I’m busy.”
He laughed, “Trust me, your highness,” he said with disdain, “You’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”
“I will have you dragged out of here screaming and hang you for treason. Trust me.” She was almost spitting it at him. Sebastian clicked the lock of the door.
“How dare you!” she yelled, rising. Armend rose with her.
“Sit down, now.”
She spat in his face. Armend smiled and Sebastian walked over with a handkerchief. Armend wiped his face, still smiling. It was an evil, vicious smile. One that Armend had perfected. He saw fear flash in her eyes and knew he had her.
“That was very unladylike. I knew you were garbage since Sol met you.” He pushed her shoulder, hard. She fell back on to the couch. “I said sit down.”
Her face was flushed. She was furious.
“Good,” Armend said, and he handed the square of fabric back to Sebastian.
“Now, we are going to have a civilized chat. I know that’s hard for the low class like yourself, but you will have to try.”
“Fuck you.”
“Though I enjoy your,” he paused, “Sass. I have to say the language is not appreciated.”
She laughed, coldly, “I don’t much care what you appreciate. You will leave my house, now or I will have you killed for treason. I will have you removed from the council immediately. You will die in the slums.”
Armend shrugged, “No, you won’t. It’s us and Sebastian. Yes, you could have me dragged out of here, and if you call for treason Justice will have to hang me. But you have to make it out the door. And trust me when I say, if I’m going down for treason, I will make sure it’s worth it. Meaning I will kill you.”
She smiled at him, “Good thing I don’t give a shit.”
“I would think that you would, given that I have both your sons.”
The threat did its job and the Queen blanched.
“Good! And you will behave while I have them, or I will kill them and make you watch.” He gave her credit as she recovered quickly.
“I don’t believe you,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning back in the couch.
Armend shrugged. “I really don’t care what you believe. Fact is fact. I am having them brought to Solias so I can keep a closer eye on them. Now, I won’t tell you where they are or how I’m keeping them. I’d hate for you to get too overprotective.”
She sat, studying him. He could tell her mind was
racing. “So you want to be King. I should have expected it, really. Don’t really know why I’m surprised.”
He nodded slowly, disappointed that she had guessed his big reveal.
“Oh quit pouting. You’re like a child,” the Queen spat.
Anger boiled over and he barely stopped himself from hitting her. If there was any mark left on the Queen he wouldn’t survive the night.
“Yes,” he said, “I want to be King. I need to fix the mess you and your husband made.”
She scoffed, “Give me some credit. Mess I made. He had no idea what was happening or how things were going. All he wanted was beer and women. And he had a plethora of each. Peace was my thing. He just thought with his cock which made it easy to get what I wanted.” She paused, lost in thought, eyes were sad with the memories.
“Well I want to fix your mess then. The Solias and Melanthios cannot live in peace. Langundo only has room for one of us. We will exterminate their greedy species and get all the Quicksilver that we want. We will never live in darkness again.”
“You seem awfully scared of the dark.”
“I am. You should be too. Without Pulse, we will decay into nothing.”
The Queen shrugged. She knew a lost cause. She wasn’t going to have this debate with a man who was clearly mentally unhinged.
“So you will marry me?” Armend said.
“No.”
“Well then, I guess we will kill Titus first. I think you will be intrigued at how much blood a twelve year old can lose before he dies. And I will make sure that, throughout his torture and death, he knows that you are responsible. You will watch him grow to hate you and he will die with hate and loathing for his mother in his heart.”
He rose to leave.
“Wait.” She said it softly, but he heard. Armend turned and sat back down.
“I don’t believe that you have them, but I cannot take that chance.”
“So you will marry me then?”
“Yes,” she said. A single tear fell from her eye and she angrily wiped it away. “I will. But you must not harm my sons. I will give you children. The first in the line will take the throne. Sol and Titus must not be harmed.”
Armend shrugged. “They won’t be,” he lied. “As soon as we get married, I will let them go. But you will never speak to them again.”
“I have to know they are fine, or else none of this happens.”
Armend nodded. That was easy enough to fake. “I will have them send letters as soon as we are married.”
He rose, and at the door said, “We will be wed next week. You are not to leave these chambers. I will prepare everything. You will be dressed and ready to go. Sebastian will come and get you. You are only allowed your servants. Trust me, my dear,” he sneered, “Your life is about to change.”
The Queen watched them go and got up and poured herself some brandy. She knew that all was lost. Staring out the window, she found herself wishing she at least had Elefteria back. Something that loved her.
But her family was gone, her husband was dead. She didn’t have any other options. She downed the glass of brandy in one shot and poured herself another. As she saw it, it was die now or die soon. She was only doing this to give her sons more time to get away and find each other and to find Prisoner 613. She thought she had sent the letters off to her sons in time.
She just hoped they listened.
23
Senka
Senka woke calm and happy. It was still dark out. Beside her, Jules was still tangled in her blankets, asleep. They had acknowledged their love a week ago, and he had spent every night with her since. She felt oddly calm around him. His beautiful forest green aura swirled and danced. Her own blue aura flowed out of her hand and entangled into his. Curiously, she saw a blue ribbon dance in his green aura, and a green ribbon dance in hers. She removed her hand, but the ribbons stayed.
She rose slowly and quietly, not wanting to wake him. She checked his aura again. The forest green danced and she saw a thin ribbon of blue swirl with it. Confused, she put her supple leather boots on and went outside in the cool morning. There was mist on the grass and the trees. Senka would normally go for a run with her crew, but she decided to warm up by herself. They wouldn’t be up for another hour.
Taking a deep breath of the morning air, she set out towards the forest at an easy jog. The wind blew her hair, the air burned her lungs, and she enjoyed every second. Peace. She was finally at peace.
This thing with Jules had hit her hard. She loved him. She knew she did. But she knew he would be devastated if he knew she would be dying soon. She didn’t want to tell him. It would be easier to just do it and die. That way she wouldn’t have to see him break down. She didn’t know if she could go through with it if he knew.
She jogged to the ravine she had jumped over the week before, taking a few minutes to sit and watch the sunrise. This was the first time since Appollyon died that she was able to enjoy something small. Her entire life had been guided by fear, guilt and regret for such a long time that she’d forgotten to look around her.
Now she took the time to watch the brilliant display of reds, oranges and yellows on the horizon. A calm came over her. She was making the right decision, the only decision. It was her life for theirs. She had to protect them at all cost on the battlefield. And that meant killing this false King as quickly as possible.
She had let go of regret. She had let go of guilt. As the sun burst over the horizon, she stood and sent her regular and silent thoughts out to the Queen. Hopefully the Queen had fled in time. She knew if she left the Melanthios to defend themselves and went to save her, the chances of them winning the war were worse. Even on the slim chance she saved the Queen, she knew she would be disappointed. This was bigger than both of them. Taking one last long look at the beautiful sunrise over the trees, she turned and jogged home.
The jog back was just as enjoyable as the jog to the cliff. Breaking the treeline, she saw Jules hurrying out of the house. Smiling, she waved at him, then stopped in her tracks when she saw the angry look he gave her. Confused, she saw Eli, Tory and Ujarak approach from the corner of her eye.
Walking forward hesitantly, perplexed at what had changed in the last hour, she crept towards the house. Jules glared at her the whole way. The other three milled around behind her. They clearly noticed Jules’ mood and were trying to give them privacy.
“What’s up?” she signed.
“What’s up?” Jules yelled. Senka jumped. She had never seen him angry. Her own anger fired up in response. Who does he think he is? When she looked into his eyes and saw fear instead of anger, she calmed herself down.
“Yeah,” she signed calmly, “What’s up?”
“What’s up is that I woke up this morning and you were gone!” He was near hysterics, “You were gone and I didn’t know where you went!”
“I went for a jog, clear my thoughts before my meeting with the Shaman today. It’s going to be a hard day and I wasn’t sleeping anyway.” She was trying hard not to get angry again. But Jules was making it difficult. “You don’t own me. I’m allowed to do whatever I want.”
Jules’ jaw dropped and the three others approached quickly. Apparently they wanted to diffuse the situation as well.
“I never said I owned you! You are allowed to do whatever you want. But I was worried. We’re going to war! You can’t just go traipsing around the woods by yourself. You have a target on your back…” he trailed off when he noticed Eli giggling beside Senka. Ujurak’s eyes were laughing and Tory had a hand over her mouth. Even Senka was trying hard not to laugh.
“What?” he said, anger starting to ebb. It was hard to stay angry when the four people closest to you were laughing. “What?! I’m allowed to be angry. She scared me!”
“Not saying you’re not allowed there, mate,” Eli responded with a giggle, “Just laughing at the word choice. Who says traipse?”
The four broke down in fits of laughter. Jules found himself getting annoyed. �
�Traipse. It’s a walk.”
“He’s a city boy,” Tory said to Eli, trying to hold the laughter in. “He’s far more educated than all of us. While we say walk, he says traipse because of his mighty city learned brain. Us village folk can’t keep up.”
Ujarak snorted.
“Shut up,” Jules mumbled, turning red. He was trying not to laugh and still be angry, but it was getting hard.
“Shut up,” Senka signed to the three. “Look I’m sorry I went without waking you and telling you where I was going. We good?”
“Yeah, we’re good,” Jules signed back.
“Awwww, they’re so cute,” Eli said when Senka walked up and pecked him on the cheek.
Senka flashed him the middle finger. Eli laughed, “You’re gonna have to get a better comeback. That’s getting old.”
Senka laughed.
“So,” Tory signed, “You joining us this morning?”
Senka shook her head, “Nope, I have to go meet the Shaman. We’re going to have a long day.”
“Ah, yes,” Eli signed, “Pulse pack building. Be safe! We had Barzilai build us some insulated swords. I will be sure to kick your ass tomorrow!”
Senka laughed. Jules joined the other three and they ran. At the edge of the forest, Jules turned and signed, “I love you!” and disappeared after the other three.
Senka felt her heart jump, just like every time he said it. She shook her head and walked inside of her house. She drew a bath and relaxed, having a cup of tea. When she felt prepared she walked to the blacksmith hut. The smell of steel and fire assaulted her nose. Even after two weeks of spending hours in this hut, she still hadn’t gotten used to it.
Barzilai was standing at the fire with the Shaman. He looked exactly like Ujarak. Broad massive shoulders on top of a tall body with thick forearms and a squished face. Quiet like his twin, he grunted when Senka entered and gave her a nod. She returned the nod and he left the building.
