All the King's Traitors

by Keylin Rivers

  Kari glanced over at Dane. He was hunched and panting, the precision and difficulty of the wield taking a toll. He had his head dropped towards the floor, and Mímrvor sung his sad tune loudly in her ears. Kari’s eyes went to her own prisoner. Dane may be a warrior, but he was no killer.

  “Dane, you have succeeded in this trial,” Xenophon said, bowing his head towards Dane. “Kari, you are next.”

  Her name being called caught her off guard; she had been hoping for more time. She looked from her prisoner, her intended victim, to the excited crowd. She remembered a time when she awaited the blind punishments. When they used to watch Vallich dole them out. She never questioned what they were being punished for or why. Not until she had to do the deed herself.

  Could this be why Vallich left? Could he no longer bear being a tool for death?

  “Kari,” Xenophon said, staring straight at her. “Proceed, child.”

  Her heart beat so loudly that she could feel it pulsing in her ears. Her mouth was dry and her hands trembling. Everything in her vision was blurry except the man on the ground in front of her. Either a rapist or a father defending his daughter. Either way, she was unsure if she could do this. Most people unfortunate enough to have to kill did so in battle, whereas she was jumping straight to murder. They had no defence, no honour.

  Kari stepped towards the man. He stared at a blank space straight in front of him and he did not tremble. Kari got on her knees in front of him. If she were to kill him, she would look him in the eye before she did.

  She regretted this decision the instant their eyes met. His face was old and worn, his hair matted, and his cheeks sunken as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Kari placed a hand on his chest and leaned into it. He didn’t flinch under her touch.

  “Your name?” she whispered, barely making a sound.

  He stayed quiet.

  “Your name?”

  “Neil.”

  Kari’s hand dropped and she barely caught herself on her knees. She was staring into the eyes of a murderer. She lifted herself back up and placed her hand on his chest.

  She slowly started pulling the air from his lungs and from around his head. He gasped for air and his body weakened, but he stayed upright.

  As he suffocated to death, Kari’s own chest constricted. All she knew of was what this man was accused of. Could another murder really be the solution to a first? She felt her heart in her ears again. Mímrvor whispered frantically, he was clearly not okay with this either.

  But she kept pulling until his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the floor. Kari panted as she drew her hand back. Perhaps it was enough, but perhaps not. She couldn’t bring herself to see it through to the very end. If this man had the will to live, he probably would.

  The crowd cheered as she stood, and the Elevenths rushed over to examine the body. Kari walked back into the line-up and turned to face Xenophon. Her hands trembled.

  A loud gasp rang through the hall and the crowd quieted. One of the Elevenths unsheathed his sword and slit the man’s throat. Kari bowed her head towards the ground.

  “Kari Sangdroi. You have failed this trial,” Xenophon said. “Such a pity.” He shook his head. “Amelie, please proceed.”

  Kari sat in the tree she and Vallich used to escape to when they were kids. It was in a neglected part of the garden, one that barely received any maintenance. The ancient humans called it a River Red Gum, though Kari had no idea why. It was an old tree with hundreds of turning branches and smooth bark. She had climbed to one of the branches they used to hide in when they were young, before Vallich became the heir.

  Kari stared into the night sky, the moon growing closer and closer to a bright moon each eve. The bright moon would mark the day of the last trial. How could she have failed so badly? Moreover, how could this be the God-King’s plan? There had been so much death.

  She recalled Xenophon’s words earlier in the day. Could it really be a test of their loyalty, or was the God-King just mistaken in his instructions? Kari looked up into the night sky. That must be it. He mustn’t have intended on the slaughter in the first trial. That was Lord Salmond. And in the second, he was doing what he had always done, ruled without mercy. She was just not strong enough to go through with his punishment.

  She thought back to the three deaths she witnessed earlier. Though Dane’s was tame, Lord Salmond’s and Amelie’s were especially cruel. Not that Amelie meant hers to be; it was just particularly gruesome watching the crows pick away at the woman’s flesh. But Amelie did what needed to be done, even though she was clearly hesitant. Everyone, even the crowd, seemed thankful that the woman died surprisingly fast.

  She was just weak. That was the only reason for failure. Kari leaned her head against the trunk of the tree and sighed.

  The normally smooth bark felt rough against her skin. Kari lifted her head and looked at the tree. There was a patch of bark that looked like it had been partly peeled away. She peeled it off, keen to get her smooth headrest back.

  But there was something underneath. A small slit in the tree, clearly carved by a knife or some other tool. Kari pushed her slender fingers into the slit.

  Paper.

  She pulled out the note. It had Vallich’s name on the front. She opened it carefully.

  She read it once and then again just to be sure. And though it had no signature, Kari knew who wrote it.

  Kari stormed through the door to Dane’s chambers, not bothering to knock.

  “What is this?” She crossed the floor to where Dane stood, the note in her good hand.

  “Where did you get that?” he said, grabbing it from her.

  “Is it true?”

  Dane sighed. “I would not have sent it were it not.”

  Kari grabbed it back from him and began to read out loud.

  “I write to you with great concern and grave news. Your God-King is not who you think he is. It took me years outside of Azul to finally free myself of the illness that is being a member of King Apollyon’s court. The God-King is poisoning you more and more each day with his lies and half-truths.

  “I write to you now because I have learnt a tragic truth that I thought you had a right to know. The Battle of Burrath started with you. Well, your Godstone. When you found it as a young child in the mines, it stirred an idea in Apollyon; that Godstones didn’t just fall from the sky, but old ones were buried in the earth. They mined deeper and farther north than ever before, looking for more Godstones, not metals. More and more were found as they approached the Burrath border.

  “The Northerners were a people at peace. We destroyed that peace so we could mine a few precious stones to help fuel Apollyon’s hold over us. I fear we will soon dig deep enough that we may find something that makes him truly unstoppable.

  “I risk treason with this letter, so I beg of you, do not show it to anyone. Destroy it. But I must also ask you, as the second strongest in all the known worlds, to see this truth through the web of lies Apollyon has fed everyone. Without you, Apollyon is weaker, and perhaps you are the only one who could stand up to him. Think back on your life and everything that made you what you are. Now think back on it again, but remember that everything that made you was really one thing, one person. Apollyon. It took me years to see it. This is your chance. Be free. Take it.”

  Kari huffed as she reached the end. She hadn’t realized how quickly she was reading.

  “Are you going to turn me in?”

  “I want an explanation.”

  “And you are due one,” Dane replied. “Go shut the door and have a seat.”

  Kari did as she was ask, not even realizing she had left the door open to begin with. She peered into the hallway to make sure no one had overheard. When she saw the coast was clear, she locked the door and made her way to one of the green velvet armchairs near the crackling fireplace.

  Dane took a seat next to her, facing the fire. “It is a little warm in this heat, but it reminds me of home.”

  “This is your h
ome,” Kari said.

  “It is not.”

  “Explain the letter.”

  “Vallich had a right to know,” Dane said, leaning onto his knees. “In fact, everyone has a right to know, but no one would believe me.”

  “You are right! You expect us to believe we went to war over a few mines?” Kari realized she was yelling and lowered her voice. “Burrath was barbaric. We saved them.”

  “We slaughtered them,” Dane said a forced hushed tone. “My wife’s family was murdered.”

  Kari’s took a sharp breath at the mention of his wife. She’d had no idea he was joined in a union. Clearly, they were even more estranged than she initially thought.

  Dane continued, “They had been at peace for years. She hadn’t even been born when the last clan war happened. They elected their leaders, the people chose them. It was beautiful.”

  “If that were true,” Kari said, raising an eyebrow at Dane, “that means we went to war for a couple of Godstones.”

  “No, not Godstones. Allstones.”

  “What is that?” Kari said, leaning back in her chair. This story sounded more and more like nonsense.

  “A Godstone that has yet to touch anything. The only people said to have ever found one are the Vyvents, but even that was long ago. Nobody knows what they can do exactly. Perhaps they can control everything, or perhaps you can make them into what you desire and give them to whom you choose. Either way they are immensely powerful.”

  “That is impossible.”

  “Is it?” Dane said, turning his gaze to Mímrvor. “How do you suppose it is you have a Godstone that can control air? Would not the first thing all Godstone’s touch be air?”

  Kari was stumped. She had asked herself that same question before, but when she brought it up to Xenophon, he simply told her not to question how and to whom the God-King distributes the stones. She thought back to the theory she and Vallich came up with as kids. “They must be protected by something.”

  “Right. A cosmic shell, if you will.” Dane took out his own Godstone from his pocket and wrapped his hand around it. He held it in the air. “The casing degrades or breaks when the Godstone hits something. If this casing were weak enough, a harsh enough descent could crack the shell.” Dane swooped his hand down, dropping his Godstone midair. It fell into his lap. “An air Godstone.”

  Kari reached over and picked it up. Dane flinched when she did, but made no motion to take it back, so Kari continued. She placed her hand around the foreign rock. Mímrvor hissed a cruel tune of his own in her ear, clearly upset she was touching another Godstone.

  “But if the casing were strong enough to stay intact on impact,” Kari said as she slammed her fist into Dane’s leg quite hard—he did deserve it after all, “the Godstone would remain untouched.”

  Dane nodded. “A power we have not seen before.”

  “So, when Vallich found his Godstone in the mines,” Kari started, “and then others after that… Apollyon thinks there is one down there?”

  “Yes, and there seems to be a large concentration of buried Godstones in the new mines of Diamonwon, right on top of the old Burrath territories. Dozens so far.”

  Kari rubbed her hand over her chin. It made sense, but was it real? “Perhaps the God-King has his reasons.”

  “Perhaps, but is it worth ruining people’s lives over?”

  Kari stuttered, not knowing what to think. Things that seemed so clear only a few days ago no longer were. “You orchestrated treason so you could make your bid for heir,” Kari said, trying to focus on how Dane was in the wrong.

  “Do you want me to be honest with you?” Dane looked at his hands, unable to hold Kari’s gaze.

  “Yes.”

  “This is not what I intended. Not in the slightest.” Dane slowly played with his thumbs, focusing on them alone. Mímrvor’s tune was sad and painful.

  “What is it you intended?”

  “I am ashamed of how I tried to manipulate him, I truly am, but I know Vallich can be easily provoked. Apollyon’s hold on him was growing thinner each passing year. I was hoping this would put him over the edge. Vallich was the only one of us that even stood a chance.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Dane looked straight into the fire. “I didn’t want Vallich to leave. I wanted Vallich to kill Apollyon.”

  Chapter 39

  Sable, 30th Day of the Month of Warmth, 1114 A.F.F.

  “Vallich!” Hectar yelled from atop his horse at the edge of the grassy cliff.

  Vallich’s horse galloped up the high cliff that overlooked the sea. His face was covered by a tightly wrapped cotton scarf. The thrill of the sharp drop on nearly all sides was enticing. The sun was setting in the west, over the ocean. He looked out at the glowing red horizon—somewhere, off in the distance, were the Free-Wielders.

  “Hectar,” Vallich said as he neared the lord.

  “I have assembled all the troops I could spare,” said Hectar. “Now, show us the way.”

  “You go south, as far south as possible on land,” Vallich said, “Then, at the height of the bright moon, you will be shown the way.”

  “What gibberish is this?”

  “Those are the instructions.”

  “You’re coming with me then.”

  “Oh, no, I am not. We had a bargain. I show you your way, then you get out of mine.” Vallich shot an intense warning glare at Hectar. “You do not want to break a bargain with me.”

  “The God-King’s Historian pet Xenophon has been sending me nasty letters. They’ll have an army out here soon enough, and you’re just sending me on a wild goose chase! What are you up to?” Hectar demanded. “What is it then? Are you going to take over while good ol’ Uncle Hectar is out wandering the empty seas?”

  “Why in the world would I want your desert wasteland?” Vallich said. “You would just come back, or Apollyon would send his army. I am the best, but I am no fool. In the long run, I wouldn’t stand a chance without allies.”

  “Huh? You’re looking for allies? I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Vallich grunted and pulled at Arion’s reigns. “That is the way to the Free-Wielders. You can choose to follow it or not. I leave that up to you. But out there,” he pointed westward, “is glory. Perhaps Apollyon will even make you his heir, Commander of the Elevenths. After all, I did get rid of the competition.”

  “There better be blood at the end of this night,” said Hectar, “or I will be coming for you.”

  “I don’t doubt there will be.”

  Chapter 40

  Azul, 30th Day of the Month of Warmth, 1114 A.F.F.

  The dungeons beneath the palace were damp. A condensed droplet from the ceiling fell onto Kari’s hair and a chill ran up her spine. The smells of decaying flesh and stagnant sewage wafted in the air. Kari closed her arms over her chest, wincing when she touched her burn from the Justice Trial. Even through her thicker clothing, the dampness pierced her bones. It was much too cold.

  She had received a letter from Xenophon the night before with the instructions on where to go. They were to meet at midday in the lowest level of the palace. The day had been bright and warm, though no one would know that down here. Moans and evil whispers cursing the world echoed through the hall; the voices of those left down here to pay for their crimes.

  Kari forced herself not to look in the stalls. She had seen too much death over the past couple of weeks, more than she had ever seen in her life. She shook her head, trying to focus on the Trial, though she did not know what was to come. But it was impossible.

  For the past few days, she had thought of nothing except the God-King and her loyalty to him. She had started these Trials determined to prove she was no traitor. But now, after what she had seen, she was questioning it all. Why had the God-King not stopped the slaughter of the innocents at the House of Historians? Was the world outside the city truly as different as Amelie claimed? And the letter that convinced Vallich to turn away from it all…

&n
bsp; A prisoner slammed against the metallic prison door, startling Kari. Mímrvor screeched in her ears.

  “Do not disobey him,” a voice cackled.

  Kari looked into the face of the prisoner through the tiny window in the cell door. Half of the flesh on his cheek had been eaten away by some illness.

  The man pressed his rotting face against the bars, his melted flesh making an unsettling squishing sound as he pressed too hard. “Our God-King is my lord. Will you ask our diety to forgive me?”

  Kari stumbled back. A hand swung out behind her. She screamed and turned to see a woman’s dainty arm hanging limply from between the barred opening.

  “So pretty,” she whispered. “I was once pretty…”

  Kari ran down the hall, the dim torchlight her only guide.

  “Don’t end up like me!” the man yelled after her.

  Before she rounded a corner, Kari turned back to look over her shoulder and plowed right into someone. She fumbled backward and tripped on a rock. She fell to the ground.

  “Better look where you’re running,” Dane said, holding out a hand towards her, his furs rolling off his shoulder. “You alright there, Kari?”

  Kari stood without taking Dane’s hand. She dusted herself off, the particulate causing her to cough. She covered her mouth with her sleeve as she did. “Fine. My apologies.”

  “It was but an accident. No reason to apologize.” Dane took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Have you thought anymore about the letter?”

  Kari nodded subtly.

  “And?”

  “And,” Kari whispered, her eyes darting across the floor, unable to look Dane in the eye. She listened intently to Mímrvor, mentally asking him to tell her more about Dane. Mímrvor simply played Dane’s steady, noble-like melody. Whether the letter was true or not, by Mímrvor’s tune, Kari was quite certain Dane believed that it was the truth. “I know not what to believe.”

  Dane sighed, but it sounded more like relief than anguish. He placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled. “You’re getting there.”