Kingdom

by Kyle West

  “I don’t know how deep this treason goes. How did he get so many of them on his side? What did he promise them? How can I know who to trust?”

  “None of these, that’s for sure,” Shara said loudly.

  All the men protested, professing their loyalty to the Atlantean Prince.

  “If they are going to be locked up,” Nabea said quietly, “then they will fight tooth and nail to escape. If I give them mercy, then justice goes unserved.”

  “Justice must be served,” I said. “We need to get them secured before we find your parents. Seems they’re on the top floor.”

  “And the dragon swarm?”

  “We can catch up with it later.”

  Nabea nodded. “That makes sense.” He looked to the Elders. “I have your approval on this?”

  “This is your kingdom, Prince,” Isandru said. “It seems wise and fair to me.”

  Nabea nodded. “All right, then.” He turned to face the guards. “Listen! This is what’s going to happen. Any man who disagrees can have his argument directly with my blade.” Nabea gave it a flourish to let him know he meant business. “Justice will be served for your betrayal. We will lead you—peacefully—to the dungeons where you will await trial. I will take one of you with me to show us where you’ve imprisoned all those still loyal to my father.” Nabea pointed to the guard he had been talking to earlier. “You, come forward.”

  The man stepped gratefully forward, looking upward in thanksgiving while prostrating his hands. “Prince Nabea . . .”

  “Quiet,” Nabea growled. “The rest of you, line up against the western wall!”

  The crew and I did our part to shepherd the stragglers in the direction, making sure they didn’t get too close to the weapons we’d piled in the center of the room. We patted down the rest of them, getting rid of the rest—various knives and a couple of the officers even had smaller handguns, far cruder than what would have existed in Anna’s day, but threats all the same.

  All in all, there were about twenty-five guards that had chosen to follow Kachar over Nabea’s father.

  “The dungeon is below,” Nabea said to me. “The guard I chose has already informed me that most of my father’s councilors and administrators have been locked up. It seems Kachar wanted them to continue working for him once he’d secured his hold on the city.”

  “And your parents?”

  Nabea shook his head. “Like the lot of them said before. They’re locked up on top. But we can’t do anything about that until we put all these scumbags away. Once my father’s men are set free, not to mention my father and mother themselves, then we can start taking control of the city.”

  It sounded like a good plan, and over the next hour, we finished the first step—locking away all the men who had turned on the king, in separate cells so that they couldn’t communicate. The turnkey looked shocked upon seeing the prince enter his domain, immediately falling on his knees and pleading for mercy.

  “Guilty conscious?” Nabea asked.

  “Please, spare me, Prince Nabea!” the turnkey said. “I had to along with it!”

  Nabea sniffed. “Maybe so. I need your help.”

  “Anything, Prince Nabea. Just name it.”

  “I need all these traitors locked up until further notice.”

  The turnkey eyed the mass of men gathered outside his door, guarded over by Seekers with swords bared. “Of course, my prince.”

  “My associates will help you escort them to their cells,” Nabea said. “Place them individually, and far enough apart to make communication impossible.”

  “Sir . . .” the turnkey began, “already, the dungeons are overflowing with men loyal to your father. Some might have to be let out, first.”

  “We’ll figure all that out later,” Nabea said. “Crowd them in if you have to. It’ll only be temporary until we deal with it later.”

  “They managed a lot with so few,” Ret said.

  “Somehow, I get the feeling we didn’t catch them all,” Shara said.

  The turnkey wiped a droplet of sweat away. “I’ll get right to it, Prince.”

  Nabea led the way into the cold, stone dungeon. Though cold, it was well-lit with torches between every cell. Upon his entry, there was a sudden clamoring from the prisoners: “Prince Nabea!” and, “Release us!” along with, “We had nothing to do with it!”

  Nabea let out a sharp whistle, silencing the cacophony. “We’ve won Castle Tower and locking up those responsible for the coup. You will be let out shortly.”

  Cheers met this pronouncement, which Nabea had to cut out with another whistle.

  “The king and queen are locked up, too, and we must free them first. Know that you are safe. The city is now under my command.”

  There were more cheers before Nabea turned back, looking at the mass of disarmed guards, most whose heads were lowered.

  “You will need someone to guard this place,” Elder Tellor said. “I volunteer.”

  “Elder Tellor,” Nabea said, “surely you will be needed elsewhere.”

  “On the contrary, this is where I’m needed most. You will need someone strong to make sure no one breaks in to undo all of our hard work.” He looked at Samal and Ret. “Of course, I will need help. I’d like you to leave these two with me.”

  “If it’s all right with Nabea and Shanti, then I agree,” Samal said.

  “As do I,” Ret said.

  “I’ll leave it to Nabea,” I said. “But it seems like a good idea to me.”

  “Of course,” Nabea said, after a moment’s pause. “With the three of you down here, I don’t see how anyone is getting out of this place. Of course, the turnkey is not allowed to leave, either.”

  The man gulped but made no protest.

  “Whatever you need,” Tellor said.

  Nabea nodded toward the prisoners. “Escort them in!”

  We spent the next half hour or so getting the prisoners into their cells. The turnkey was right in that it was crowded. We often had to fit three or four, and most went in without protest. Those who did protest were convinced with a brandishing of our blades.

  Once they were locked and squared away, we crowded back into the turnkey’s small, bare office.

  “My associates will guard you and make sure you don’t try anything,” Nabea said.

  “My prince,” the turnkey said groveling again, “I have served your father faithfully for two decades. I would never—”

  “Perhaps you can serve me, then, by giving me whatever information you have. Are there more who have turned against the king?”

  “I don’t know, my lord. It all began last night. The castle was in an uproar. It was rumored that the king, your father, was dead. Many fled, and those who didn’t were locked up or worse. I remained. I had to promise to do as Lord Kachar, I mean, Prophet Kachar, asked. It was either that or my head, so I chose to help him. Most of them locked in there are loyal and true, no doubt. The castle was secured quickly, but before the loyal troops could take it back, the dragons came. A swarm of them, my lord, hundreds upon hundreds . . . perhaps as much as a thousand. This is what allowed Kachar to take over.”

  Nabea nodded, taking it all in. “There must be some men loyal to my father left out there.”

  The turnkey bowed nobly—the gesture combined with his greasy hair and inflated, fattened cheeks was almost comical. “One stands before you, sire.”

  “Be that as it may,” Nabea said, “you are still under house arrest.” He nodded to Samal and Ret. “I will return shortly.” Nabea turned back to the master. “What am I to call you?”

  “Fletch is fine, my lord.”

  “Master Fletch,” Nabea said, “these two men are Seekers of the Sanctum. Try anything, and it is your head.”

  Master Fletch gulped. “I would never—”

  “All the same. Prove your loyalty, Fletch, in a time where there is much room to doubt.”

  It seemed Fletch was too flummoxed to speak when we made our exit.

  �
��With that out of the way,” Nabea said, “it’s time to find my parents.”

  “At the very top,” Isa said, who had been quiet thus far. “Are we supposed to climb all the way up?”

  “We have elevators,” Nabea said.

  “There’s electricity here?” I asked.

  “Parts of the city have it,” Nabea said. “It was my father’s dream to restore power to all of Atlantea, but currently it’s just the central part of the city. Assuming the power is still up, which it likely isn’t.”

  “Perhaps we should take the stairs, then,” Shara said.

  Nabea led us across the lobby and pressed the button to summon the elevator. There didn’t seem to be any response.

  “It’s not lit up as it should be,” he said. “We’ll have to climb up. If they’re at the very top, then that’s sixty floors.”

  “I get that making a sixty-story building as a castle is kind of neat, but isn’t it a bit impractical?” Shara asked.

  “Atlantea is one of the few cities in the Eastern Kingdoms that didn’t lose most of its skyscrapers,” Nabea said. “We’re the only country powerful enough to run them. Most of the tall buildings have collapsed by now.”

  As we took to the stairs, Shara still wasn’t convinced. “Still.”

  “It won’t take long if you are strong,” Nabea said.

  “In that case,” Isandru said, “I will return to check on the ship.”

  “As will I,” Fiona said, “. . . if that is all right.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Someone needs to make sure Pallos and Mia are doing okay on their own.”

  “Good luck,” Fiona said before she and the Elder Prophet walked off.

  With Fiona and Isandru leaving, and with Samal and Ret downstairs, that left Nabea, Shara, Isa, and me.

  “All right, let’s move,” I said.

  Nabea was the first to head up the grand staircase in the lobby with the rest of us on his heels.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  WE WERE SOON BACK IN the throne room where we had defeated Prophet Kachar. The pool of blood where Nabea had killed him remained the main adornment in the vast room other than the thrones themselves. There was also the pile of weapons in the middle of the floor, not far from the blood. It had been stupid to leave them here; I should have at least sent a couple of guards to make sure no one happened upon them.

  Nabea walked in and ran across the throne room, paying no mind to the blood. He went for the weapons instead, choosing a long musket. The thing looked hopelessly antiquated compared to the turrets on Odin.

  “Have you used one of these before?” Nabea asked.

  “Never,” I said.

  “No matter,” Nabea said, hefting it with a flourish. “It has one shot, after which you have to reload with ball and powder. These are no doubt preloaded. There isn’t much to these; literally point and squeeze the trigger, and hope it hits its mark while the barrel doesn’t blow up in your face.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” Isa said. “I think I’ll just use my bow.”

  “That’s why people prefer to use swords and pikes,” Nabea said.

  “Should we grab some?” I asked.

  “No need,” Nabea said, picking up two. “Two for me. I don’t know what lies ahead, so these might come in handy.” He strapped the muskets to each of his shoulders.

  “So, there’s another set of stairs nearby?” Shara asked.

  “Yes,” Nabea said. “They’re not used often, so they exist mainly for situations like this.”

  Nabea ran past the throne room, into the back area out of which Kachar had summoned his guards. We found ourselves in a long corridor lined with doors on either side. The doors that were open revealed empty offices bereft of people but filled with wooden desks, scrolls, books, and similar things. In some of the rooms, chairs were flipped or the items on the desks were in disarray. Whoever had been working there had been interrupted.

  “This is where the kingdom is administered,” Nabea said. “Usually, it’s very busy.”

  Those people were still locked up in the dungeon, so reaching the monarchs quickly was paramount.

  Artwork, in a style I had never seen, adorned the hallway. There were abstract shapes and figures that combined to resemble human and animal forms. They were jarring to look at. Besides these, there were more realistic paintings of the landscapes that might be found within the kingdom—hills, farmland, green forests, even ruins along a deserted beach. Some of the art was, no doubt, from before the Ragnarok War over four centuries past. Shara’s gaze lingered longer on the paintings; though she had not practiced art in a long time, I had no doubt she would be interested in taking a closer look at these works.

  Nabea did not pay the artwork any mind. We reached a plain wooden door set in the corner. It seemed like just another office, but when Nabea opened it, it revealed a dark, narrow stairwell that didn’t seem to fit the opulent Castle Tower.

  “This is it,” Nabea said. He inclined his ear to listen for threats. “Sounds clear.”

  “Be careful still,” Shara said. “Some of Kachar’s cronies could be around.”

  With that warning, we set off upstairs. We ran fast for the first ten flights before slowing down, realizing we needed to save our strength. I stopped counting the flights after thirty. Nabea was only a bit winded while the rest of us gasped for breath. Even though we were in great shape, this was tough.

  We walked the last few flights, taking a short break once we made it to the top. If there was a fight past these doors, we needed to be fresh.

  “Made it,” Shara said when she’d finally caught her breath.

  “Rest a minute more,” Nabea said quietly. “I don’t know what’s behind these doors. Kachar surely would have set some guards up here, no matter how securely he confined them.”

  “Don’t attack unless they do,” I said. “Give them a chance to surrender.”

  “Should have brought Kachar’s head with me as proof,” Nabea growled. “Gruesome, but it would get them to lay down their arms without argument.” He scowled. “I am less optimistic about the possibility of diplomacy. And if they have muskets like the guards downstairs, they could fire on us before we even have the chance to close in.”

  “That’s why I have my bow,” Isa said. “And you, your guns.”

  “True,” Nabea said. Nabea grabbed one of his muskets, pointing the barrel toward the door. “Everyone ready?”

  Shara and I both unsheathed our blades, while Isa nocked her bow. With those actions, Nabea opened the door, revealing a dim, empty hallway with two doors on either side. A pair of double doors waited at the end of the hallway, unguarded but barred.

  “This corridor connects to the royal apartments,” Nabea said. “It’s likely where they’re being kept.”

  “On the other side of that door, then?” I asked.

  Nabea nodded.

  “It’s not guarded,” Shara said.

  “Stay alert,” I said. “We need to clear these rooms before going past them.”

  Nabea went to check on the door to our right. Before he even poked his head in, there was a guttural yell that brought my blade in front of me instantly. I grabbed hold of Silence and advanced while Nabea backed just in time to avoid the stab of a hostile pike.

  Three guards charged into the hallway, two of which bore pikes. We backed away until ten feet were between them and us. The pikemen advanced, while the remaining guard stood behind and called out, “Drop your weapons! Now!”

  “Kachar is dead,” Nabea said. “It is you against my army now. Obey your prince.”

  “Lies,” one of the pikemen said.

  The other looked unsure, seeming to watch the middle guard for orders.

  Something in the middle guard’s posture told me he wasn’t going to negotiate, as Nabea had feared.

  The middle guard suddenly raised a weapon, what I knew to be a gun. But Nabea was first to pull the trigger, and the weapon’s explosive discharge filled the hallway. As acrid sm
oke filled the air, there was a man’s scream. Another shot went off; I couldn’t tell if it was Nabea or the guard with the musket.

  I was still standing, and no one had cried out from beside me. I had to assume everyone was okay.

  In the following chaos, the melee began.

  I ran forward, entering Flameform; despite the confusion and smoke in the air, I could sense one of the pikemen right in front of me. He was focused on Nabea and didn’t even see me coming. I stabbed him quickly before he could do the prince any harm. With a choking scream, he fell to the floor grasping his abdomen. I finished him with a slice to his neck.

  I jumped back, both to avoid the bloody discharge and to engage the remaining guard. The one I faced dropped his musket, raising his arms high.

  “Mercy!” he called. “Please, my lord.”

  “Quiet,” Nabea said. “Back up against the wall or I’ll end you.”

  The man scuttled backward, whimpering a bit.

  “Prince Nabea . . .” he began.

  “The king and queen are in there?”

  “Yes, my prince. They are safe. We were afraid. If we had known it would be you . . .”

  “You attacked us,” I said. “You’re working for Kachar.”

  “Why?” Nabea asked. “Why did you betray your king?”

  The man was quiet, grasping for the right answer in panic. “Please have mercy on me, Lord. It was . . . the money. My wife, she is sick. Please,” the man said, desperately. “Please. You must believe me.”

  “How many marks did he pay you?” Nabea asked.

  “Two hundred, my lord,” the guard said. “He paid the same to all the guards. The captains got more.”

  “How many turned?”

  “Two hundred, my lord, or thereabouts.”

  “Two hundred marks for two hundred men,” Nabea said. “He definitely sacked the royal treasury for that.” Nabea focused back on the pitiful man. “Which captains turned? Speak!”

  “Captain Garle. Captain Trez. Captain—” the man stuttered. “—Captain Jharka. And Captain Andra.”

  Nabea nodded, seeming to know them all. “And where are they now? We imprisoned about twenty soldiers here. Captain Garle was among them.”