The Ranger: Apollo's Story (Tales of Welkinia Book 2)

by J. M. Ivie

  “No.” I shook my head, reminding myself more than him. “Elric has promised to reach out among the islands and find Zahra. When he finds her, you will be here waiting for the word. If you were with me, my brother, you would miss that chance.”

  I could see the war raging in his heart, projecting on his face like a vision. He nodded. “How long will you be gone?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Are you bringing anyone with you?”

  “No. I do not trust Niall to have him with me. So, I will be infiltrating Anarchist bases on my own.”

  “Bring Crimsyn!”

  “I especially do not trust her.”

  “Why are you wanting to go solo? What’s made you want to become a lone Ranger?”

  “I am no longer a Ranger, Apollo.” I took my pin from my pocket. I did not know why I still carried it around. “I never wish to be seen as one again.” Drawing back my fist, I threw the pin. We both stood in silence as we watched it vanish beyond the tree line.

  “You’re going to look for him again… aren’t you?” Apollo grabbed my shoulder, turning me to face him.

  Han-Zul’s name etched itself into my memory. He was a faceless, voiceless man. I only knew him by name, and now that I had said farewell to Mairead, my focus on finding him had been realigned. “Yes. I will leave in the marrow. I fear this is where we must say fey-siao.”

  Apollo tugged my arm, and in an instant he had me in a tight, almost unbearable, hug. “Peace be with you, Barak. Do not linger too long without sending word.”

  F I F T Y - F I V E

  ELRIC LEFT THE WOODLANDS immediately after Duncan’s birthday. Months passed before he returned. The relations with the island were strained and he was doing his best to smooth out the bumps. It was on the twenty-ninth day in the fourth month of winter that Elric returned and bowed out of going hunting with Laramie and me. It wasn’t uncommon for him to not come along, so Laramie and I took Scout instead of the horses this time.

  “This will give us the advantage, won’t it?” Laramie giggled.

  “It will.” I laughed, shaking my head as she ignored my hand and hopped onto Scout without aid. “You know, one day, when you have a proper suitor, he will want to help you mount one of these beasts, and you’ll do what you always do.”

  Laramie raised her brow, “And what might that be?”

  “You’ll jump atop the bird or horse yourself and he will feel utterly embarrassed.”

  Laramie shook her head, pursing her lips as she leaned back in the saddle. “Well, hopefully he can get over that wound. He will need to get used to it if he wants to be around me.”

  “If he can take that rejection like a man, then he has my blessing!” I burst out laughing, climbing atop of Scout.

  Laramie hissed out a breath of air and smacked my arm, “Your blessing? I just need my father’s blessing, thank you very much.” There was a long moment of silence before Laramie rested her head on my back. “But… if you didn’t like him… I would have to reconsider his proposal.”

  ___

  The night spread over the land, and I breathed in the cool air. The land sloped and bent below, and I traced the outline of the water. The twisting river paved the way through the valleys and forests towards the Woodlands.

  “It is a shame we got nothing more than a few normid for Scout to eat,” I muttered, looking at Laramie.

  “Oh dear don’t mention that. Please. That thing was disgusting—” she gagged. “Let’s change the topic.”

  “All right. How about that zunsoon?”

  Laramie punched my arm. “Not even funny. It almost killed me!”

  “Did not. It wanted to meet you.”

  “With its claws and teeth.” Laramie huffed, shaking her head back and forth. “You’re nearly unbearable.”

  “Nearly?”

  I earned another strike to the arm.

  We laughed and talked. It was a peaceful ride until we saw smoke rising in the distance— black and ominous.

  “That’s coming from the castle…” Laramie’s voice was a whisper.

  I urged Scout to fly faster, though, when we drew closer, we saw twelve Riders mounted atop Peregrines. Soldiers of the Woodlands were either dead on the earth, or so wounded none could move. Oceland had taken over the Woodlands.

  “We need to land outside the walls…” I said hesitantly, pulling at the reins. I lead Scout toward the cottage where Duranne and the children should be safely eating their supper. I leapt from Scout, looking at Laramie. “If anything happens, fly away.”

  “But, Apollo—”

  “I mean it.”

  She seemed hesitant as she nodded.

  “Apollo?” Tiana’s squeaky, six-year-old voice came from on the other side of the fence. She popped her head over the fence, smiling.

  “Get inside, Tiana…” I slipped through the gate, and she ran into my arms.

  “But, Uncle Apollo, I can’t!” She then whispered, leaning her head on my chest, “There is a man inside with mommy. She told us we should play outside.”

  I frowned, looking at her. “Okay then. Stay outside with the Princess.” Panic gripped my stomach. After I set Tiana down, I turned and hurried to the door.

  Duranne’s voice greeted me when I walked inside. “Ah, Apollo.” She sounded strained. As I rounded the corner, there was more than just one man. There were four.

  “Is something wrong?” I took off my leather jacket and hung it up.

  The men looked at me, each scowling. “You seem young to be the man of the house,” said the man who wore the captain’s garb.

  “And you look too old to be bothering a lady.” I stared him in the eyes. “Duranne, where’s Matthew?”

  “Sleeping in the cradle.” Duranne swallowed, looking at the men. “I’ll go check on him.”

  I looked back at the men, smiling. “What has brought you here?”

  “Business.” The captain tilted his head to the side. “We understand the Princess of the Woodland can be found here.”

  “It’s Woodlands, and no, she cannot,” I corrected him. “So, you all should leave now. The children need their supper.”

  One man scowled. “You look familiar.”

  Those words surprised me. I hadn’t seen this man in my life, yet here he stood, telling me I looked familiar. “You must be mistaken.”

  The man shook his head as he reached into his pack. He pulled out a single piece of parchment, producing it for his companions. “You’re the man who killed Albus Thawe.”

  My heart jumped into my throat. Albus Thawe? He was alive last I saw him.

  “This picture, issued to the Riders just a week ago, matches your description.”

  Who told the Riders about me? “You must be mistaken…”

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  A knot hardened in my stomach. I needed to find out who gave the Riders my description… and I needed to get these men away from the family. So, releasing a breath, I raised my hands, “I’ll go peacefully if you harm no one.”

  They nodded, and soon I was in shackles. Through the corner of my eye, Scout’s feathery frame ran past the window. Laramie had left. I wasn’t sure where the family was. I walked out with the men, and as we exited the cabin, Peter came running up. “Hey! What are you doing to him?”

  My heart stopped. He was ten years old, but, he was mature for his age. “Go on, Peter,” I whispered.

  “No! Let him go!” He grabbed the captain’s arm, and the man threw him off.

  “Get out of here!” The captain pulled his baton, raising it over his head to strike Peter.

  Something took hold of me. I elbowed both of the men in the stomachs, kicked the third away and took the strike for Peter.

  “Close your eyes, Peter.” I looked to the boy who nodded knowingly. Fear danced in his eyes before he closed them. I followed the primal instincts which took over me. I wrapped the loose hanging chains around the captain’s neck. It was mere seconds, b
ut they felt like minutes. He was choking, but not for long. I heard snapping as I twisted his neck. He fell to the ground—dead.

  The three others came at me, and in a barbaric rage they forgot their skills and cautions. It was as if they were acting off their fears and emotions, catapulting them toward their inevitable fate. It was little different from suicide.

  I blocked the attack of one man, standing between Peter and the advancing officer. Still bound, I used the chains and cuffs to my advantage. The clinking of the metal sword against the iron shackles resounded, ringing in my ears like a deafening thunderbolt—a hissing screech.

  I made quick work. Once I unlocked myself from the shackles, I walked over to Peter.

  “Is it okay to open my eyes now?”

  “No, Peter, keep them closed.” I scooped him up in my arms and looked around the building. No one was there.

  “Apollo!” Laramie’s voice called out, and I quickly turned to see her, Scout, Duranne, Matthew and Tiana standing in the woods. “What happened…” Laramie gasped, looking at the dead bodies.

  “We need to go. Duranne, take the children to the cave on the far end of the forest.” I looked at Laramie and she returned my frantic fear. It trembled in her eyes. Dread.

  “Apollo, please—” Duranne stopped. Her voice cracked. “Find Duncan. He’s somewhere in the kingdom.”

  ___

  Laramie and I jumped atop of Scout and began flying over the tree line. The darkness swirled around like a blanket, folding and swallowing us. We landed near the gate and hurried through the garden. From our hiding place below the thicket we saw the many people surrounding the castle. My stomach clenched seeing the charred outlines of the path and trees. Laramie looked at me in fear, tears surfacing in her eyes.

  “People of the Woodlands!”

  A wheezing, hollow voice resounded among the multitude, pulling my attention away from Laramie to the man who spoke. He had situated himself atop of the second level of the castle, standing on the balcony like a podium.

  “That’s the Ambassador…” Laramie choked out, looking at me in panic.

  “What is he doing inside the castle?” I looked around. “Perhaps he brings peace?”

  Laramie shook her head, doing her best to stifle her tears.

  Three men, hauled out from the castle, were made to kneel before the Ambassador. Tesla, Duncan, and King Elric. They all looked limp—possibly given a potion to sedate them. These are warriors. Noble men of honor.

  “Today you will see what happens when a kingdom refuses to confirm to the system. Oceland and Bouldarcaven have united!”

  The Peregrine Riders shifted, each keeping their hands on their weapons. One man, dressed in black, walked out of the castle, and took a post behind the men. My breath halted. His emblem—a Talismen executioner.

  “I need to do something!” I went to stand, only to have Laramie grab my arm.

  “The Riders will shoot you dead.” She blinked, as if fighting her tears. “You don’t stand a chance…”

  I looked at Duncan. His eyelids drooped over his stormy eyes. He saw me. There was something in his face—something that told me what he wanted.

  “People of the Woodlands!” the Ambassador yelled again, raising his hand. “Say farewell.”

  No sooner did the Ambassador speak did the masked man pull out his weapon. A long, razor-sharp scythe. With lightning speed, he brought it down on Tesla’s neck. Time stood still and my breath caught in my throat as I watched his head roll.

  “I can’t just watch,” I said in a trembling voice, but Laramie kept her hand gripped tight to my arm.

  “Apollo—”

  Duncan was next.

  I couldn’t watch.

  I heard someone spit, and I looked back. Duncan smiled slightly, “May Sotiris have mercy on your condemned soul, Ambassador.” He raised his head, “You kill men in hope to gain power. You’re gonna have it all taken from you.”

  The Ambassador’s body stiffened. “Go to Lapp, Duncan Cross.”

  “I’ll meet you there then, Hömar.” Duncan smiled. A smile which would haunt both me and the Ambassador for the rest of our lives.

  With the snap of the weapon, Duncan’s life ended.

  Laramie’s grip tightened around my arm. “Sotiris…” she muttered, “please… no…”

  The man stood behind Elric. My ears rang, and my body ached.

  “Now, for working with our enemy kingdoms, you, King Elric of the Woodlands, are to be executed for treason against the Priest and his Council.”

  Elric seemed to be the only one without that potion sedating him. He looked up at the Ambassador. “You’ll never win.”

  The Ambassador knelt down beside Elric, “I already have.”

  Elric bowed his head, looking at us. He mouthed the words ‘I love you.’ His eyes glued to his daughter.

  The daughter he would die for.

  The daughter he was about to die for.

  His head fell to the ground, severed from his body.

  PART NINE

  F I F T Y - S I X

  THE AIR REEKED OF MOLD and feces. I nearly stumbled back a step, recoiling as the cold, sticky air grabbed onto my skin. I looked at the old man who stood beside me, “How does anyone live in a place like this?”

  “Eh, no one lives here per-say. They kick here for a night then tango off… leavin’ me house in a wreck. I rent the blanging thing out to people, and they have a wee bit of a habit messin’ the place up. Nasty folks for sure.”

  I sighed, glaring at the weathered walls and mold-eaten windows. The pillars, dilapidated and devoured by decay and rot, made me wonder how much longer they would hold.

  “Eh, well, time to be gettin’ to work, lad!” The Dahkhallian landlord shoved the shovel in my hands with a smirk on his face. I supposed he found humor in my wretched state.

  I picked up the shovel and immediately got to work. Painful would have been an understatement. Two rubyes an hour was barely enough to cover a loaf of bread and cheese for a person, even less a family of five. I pulled the lantern into the room and hung it up on the wall. I stepped in a pile of feces. Whether it was human or animal, I didn’t know. The little food in my stomach climbed up my throat and into my mouth.

  I scraped the mud, muck, and grime off of the wooden floorboards, nearly heaving up the sparse breakfast I had eaten that morning more times than once. Thunder roared, and through the mold-eaten window I saw clouds rolling over the horizon.

  The putrid stench wasn’t as bad as being stuck in the home with it. There was no escape—well, not unless I wished to be drenched from head to toe. I begged for a release. This was the tenth house in the past three months I offered to repair, though, this one was by far the worst. I leaned on the broken railing, scrubbing the rafters. My muscles ached, and my every joint burned. I would come back to the small hut in the forest of Dahkhall too late at night, and I would wake up before the sun peeked over the horizon.

  I finished cleaning the grime and excrement from the living area, washing the rafters, and repairing a few of the rotten stairs.

  Lightning flashed in the distance and thunder cracked like a whip. My stomach squeezed at the memory—the leather that bit into my flesh. Rain dripped through the cracks in the ceiling, falling onto my freshly cleaned floors. Begrudgingly I grabbed a bucket from the kitchen and hauled it out into the living space. It was agony in its purest form.

  What have I become? I looked at my grizzled features in the glass reflection. Gone was once the man who could bring down empires; wreak havoc on the lives of hundreds without them even knowing who he was. Here he stood… turning into a living skeleton, scraping the grime and poop from the floorboards of an abused cottage on Dahkhall. I wasn’t the same man. Everything had been stripped away from me and from those who I was providing for. Their dignity and their titles were a distant memory; a dream left to wither and rot in the cold Dahkhallian weather.

  The day progressed on in the same manner till the evening fell.
I longed for food—a single bite of sustenance—something to quench my appetite. Darkness took over, and I saw my new employer walk down the lane headed my way.

  “Ah, fine job you’ve done here. Here’s two turrett—” He dropped currency in my hand, and I looked at the small disks longingly. “And four rubyes.”

  It was as if they were a ticket. It would barely cover a few days food for the family.

  “You’ll be back tomorrow?” the man asked, looking around. “The roof needs to be mended and the upstairs bedrooms—good Welkinia!—they are in a worse condition than the other rooms!” He began laughing. “I need a man like you. Solid laborer.”

  I bowed my head. “I’ll be back tomorrow then, sir.”

  He grinned and looked me up and down. He muttered the word ‘mudscraper’ and trudged off. That was enough to make my blood boil. But, he was my employer, so I stayed silent.

  ___

  I dropped my bags, rolling my shoulders as I entered the hut. It was past midnight that much I knew. The pinch in my muscles set me on edge, jarring me away from the time on the clock to the pain in my body. I rounded the corner, noticing Laramie asleep on the sofa. Her dark hair a was mess around her pale face, and her chocolate colored lashes were lightly twitching as she dreamed. My breath escaped my lungs as I made my way into the small bathing room adjoining the one bedroom. As I washed up, scrubbing off the grime of the day and the smell of the home from my nose, I cursed below my breath. Five months had passed since the attack on Oceland. Five months.

  Laramie had begged through tears I take her with me to Dahkhall. Despite my better judgment, and my wish that she stay behind, she came. The conversation tugged at my mind, issuing the memory back.

  “No! You can’t leave me, Apollo!” Laramie screeched as she clutched my shirt so tightly I thought it would tear.

  “Stay with Duranne and the children, Laramie. You’re safer—”

  “No! I am not! You told me you would never leave me! You made a promise!” She pushed me back, and I did my best not to explode in frustration. She just lost her father, and I needed to understand how she must feel. “I’m not safer here anyway, Apollo. What if the Ambassador searches for me? What if he searches this house?”