Four Sunrises

by J C Maynard

  Thephern ran towards them to call them back while Tayben took a rock and swung his arm back to crush the head of the last soldier — a messenger boy no older than fifteen — but before the stroke fell, he stopped. The boy’s eyes were wide open and his face turned pale. Noticing Tayben’s hesitation, Thephern took Albeire’s knife and threw it into the boy’s chest. He then sprung on Tayben, and held the knife at his throat. “Are you mad?” he screamed.

  “What?” yelled Tayben.

  Thephern pushed him harder. “I saw you hesitate!”

  Harkil ordered Thephern to stop.

  “I swear if you-”

  “Thephern, stop this!” Harkil ripped Thephern off Tayben. “Stay down!” He paused. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” said Thephern.

  Albeire took off toward the rest of the Phantoms, who were battling off the last troops. Tayben and Thephern ran after him, forgetting what had just occurred. Lekshane commanded everyone to follow him. “Wait, sir!” said Harkil.

  “What? We must go before we are unable to take them. Retter and Brint have arrows in their legs and no troops are coming right now — none that have seen us.”

  “Exactly.” whispered Harkil, “How could all of Camp Stoneheart not hear a stampede of horses? Something is wrong.” Just then, as the Phantoms stood in the lush grove, they heard — or perhaps they felt — a force unlike any other. A twinge of fear echoed in their hearts as a soft sound rushed through the battalion like a front of air, permeating every crevice and hollow both in the earth and their bodies. Steadily growing in volume and intensity, the low, rich, bass note reverberated off of every metal plate, every sword, every helm, and every inch of the platoon. The very earth beneath their leather boots awakened and filled their bones with the overpowering hum, until it grew into a long, harsh roar. Everything went quiet.

  Lekshane adjusted the grip on his sword. “What the hell was tha-” Another roar filled the air like a crack of thunder, deafening the Phantoms for its duration. “First Platoon, head north, slowly; Second Platoon, head East; Third, head south. I’ll check West. Walk in the canopy, stay together.”

  The Second Platoon walked on branches, straining their ears to hear anything. A Ferramish far in the distance could be heard saying, stay behind the gate. Even the frogs and insects stopped their croaking and buzzing. A deep roar echoed around them in the tree and they drew their weapons. “I can’t see anything.” said Gallien. Every Phantom could feel the location of everything around them, even drops of dew, like one could navigate a familiar room in the pitch black; the only flaw was trying to manage all the information coursing into their brains every second. And although they felt a strange presence around them, they could not locate its source.

  Without a sound, an enormous scaled tail swung out of the shadows and knocked the five Phantoms out of the tree. Each of them tumbled like ragdolls to the forest below, immobilized, filled with a force that coursed through their bodies like electricity. The trees cut up their skin as they fell, and they hit the wet soil hard. The roar echoed again and came closer to them. Tayben was the only one who could move, but only his arm and one leg could function, though they still felt numb. So, starting with Gallien, he dragged each of them into a fallen hollow tree trunk. Why couldn’t we sense it coming? Why couldn’t we see it? With his remaining energy, he gave three loud whistles, Help.

  Ten feet away from the Phantoms, the wood of the trunk splintered and a massive set of foot long claws bore through, severing it in half. He gave three long whistles again. The claws and scales crashed through again, and an electric current seemed to flow out of them, but Tayben was unable to tell where the dagger-like claws were until they smashed through the decaying wood. The pain and immobility worsened, and now only able to move one hand, he grabbed Chent’s bow, clumsily loaded an arrow, and, using a knot in the tree to hold the bow, drew it back and shot at the scales of the monstrous thing that smashed the log. The arrow flew through the air and bounced off its black tail without leaving a mark. Tayben fell limp, unable to control his body. He could hear the yelling of the First and Third Platoon as they sprinted through the forest toward the fallen tree to rescue them. The scales disappeared and roaring could be heard far off in the distance. The last thing Tayben saw before he passed out was Lekshane dragging him out of the tree.

  The Consequences of Rebellion

  Chapter Twenty One

  ~Early Evening, October 24th

  Dalah sat on the windowsill with her arms folded on her knees and her breath fogged the glass of her bedroom window. Her loosely braided hair fell over her shoulder; she had not asked Aunika to cut it in months and she ran her fingers through the dark strands. From up in the window, she watched a little girl chasing a boy in the dim, cold street lit by the fading light of sunset. Dalah tapped her boots together matching the clip-clop-clip-clop of horse hooves on Winterdove Lane, where there was little more than a foot between each tall and narrow gray house.

  Dalah had pushed the window open an inch; the cold air helped her think and she liked to listen to the sounds of feet that pattered and clacked on the cobblestones. The squeaking of the ropes and wheels from the well in the square as a bucket slopped in the icy water, and even the swish of brooms on small front porches and doorways. Lost in thought, she began to hum a tune Mrs. Bernoil used to sing her.

  As she closed her eyes, a group of Cerebrian soldiers marched up the street, entering the occasional house for inspections — the Queen was looking both for people worth recruiting into the army and traitors to banish or kill. Dalah had become accustomed to seeing these, now routine, inspections and her head slowly fell to her chest, entranced by the quiet bustle of the street below.

  She awoke a few minutes later when she felt a soft sting of cold on her hand — a snowflake. Opening her eyes, she saw the wooden window frame begin to turn a frosty white with tiny snowflakes. She looked up at the sky, which was pinkish gray; a thousand little specks of white floated down. She picked her head up and smiled; first snow.

  She hopped off the windowsill and took a jacket and scarf off of a wall hook. She flew down the uneven staircase and out the door, ringing a little chime, and once she stepped onto the cobblestone street, she flung her arms out and lifted her chin, looking up at the drifting snowflakes. They landed silently on her freckled face and she closed her eyes and breathed in the cold air of a waning autumn, not moving for the carriages and wagons that passed her on either side. Many of them stared oddly at her, finding it odd that a sixteen-year-old stood there in the snow.

  An old, bone skinny driver wearing a tall top hat stopped his horse cart. Dalah put her hands down and looked at his confused but smiling face, from which hung a long white beard and a red and black scarf. “You alright, sweetheart?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Sorry sir . . . just taking in the evening. It’s the first snow of the season.”

  The driver gave a jolly laugh. “It is indeed. Makes the city look beautiful. I’ve always wanted to see what Gienn and Ontraug look like at the holidays — maybe it’s something like this.”

  Dalah nodded and looked around at the lightly snow coated buildings. A cart driver behind yelled at the man to move forward.

  The man with the long white beard rolled his eyes and chuckled. He reached back in his cart and picked out a golden flower and handed it to Dalah. “Well, happy first snow, miss. Now you better go inside and stay warm.” A snowflake landed on her eyelash as he whipped the reins of his horse with a “Yah!”

  In minutes, several low clouds rolled in and the snow and wind picked up in the fading light of day, prompting lanterns to light throughout Seirnkov, like a shimmering ornament in the night. In the northern sky, huge ribbons of green light danced among the stars.

  As Dalah saw her mother rounding the street corner, she lit the fireplace and placed a pot in it. Mrs. Bernoil’s occasional strands of gray hair blended in as the snowflakes speckled the top of her head. She opened the door, letting a cold
draft of night air swirl into the kitchen.

  “Hi, Mum.” said Dalah. “What’s that you’re carrying?”

  Mrs. Bernoil held a large painting of a bouquet on a candlelit table. “I finally got it. This painting I’ve been telling you about. Your father forbid me to get it because of its price, but the artist sold it to me today for half . . . fantastically talented young man.” Dalah helped Mrs. Bernoil take off her coat and hang it. The painting was placed on a nail on the wall, and the smell of dinner on the fire began to drift pleasantly through the house. Mrs. Bernoil tapped the window, knocking off miniature drifts of snow. “Your brother and sister are late, those rascals. Dinner’s almost ready.”

  Dalah lit a candle on the table. “I told you they would come home a while after me; they’re probably still helping Uncle Gregt and Aunt Shelln with organizing. But Father is late too.”

  “He’ll be here soon.” said Mrs. Bernoil, tying a shabby apron around her waist. “He had an order for shoes on the other side of the city, and this snow is bound to slow him down a bit.” Dalah walked toward her and looked out the window at horses and people walking along the whitened cobblestone. Mrs. Bernoil unexpectedly hugged her and kissed the top of Dalah’s head. Lost, looking at the night street, she jolted. “Oh damn . . . I forgot to get the potatoes when I was out today.”

  “I can run to the market and grab some.” said Dalah walking over to put on shoes.

  Mrs. Bernoil sighed. “That’s if there’s still someone there in this weather.”

  “I can go and check.” said Dalah, slipping on her boots. “Do you want them from the market on Waterdale?”

  “That would be wonderful; thank you, dear. We won’t need them for about a half hour, and hopefully by then your father and siblings should be back.” Mrs. Bernoil handed Dalah an argentum as she wrapped her scarf around her neck and put on her coat. As Dalah opened the door, Mrs. Bernoil shivered. “Be careful, there may be ice.”

  Dalah smiled and shut the door, turning up the street. Mrs. Bernoil checked the pot, and just as she sat down to read, Mr. Bernoil walked in.

  Mrs. Bernoil put down her book. “You just missed Dalah.”

  Hanging up his coat on a hook next to the stairs, Mr. Bernoil immediately went to the window and looked out into the street. His gaze was heavy and worried. “Where is she going?” His face was tense and his voice sounded uneasy.

  Mrs. Bernoil stood up. “Just to get some potatoes for me. What’s wrong?”

  Mr. Bernoil kept his gaze locked out the window. “The Queen’s Guard are going through the neighborhood doing inspections.”

  Mrs. Bernoil put her arm around him. “It’s nothing to worry about, we have nothing to hide. They’re just making sure the city is safe.” She gave Mr. Bernoil a half smile to try and ease him.

  Mr. Bernoil shook his head out of the trance. “I know, I know. They’re just doing their job.” He looked around the house and smelled dinner and smiled, taking a deep breath in. “Is that pie I smell?”

  “Warm pie for a cold evening.” smiled Mrs. Bernoil. “Take off your shoes and relax, sweetheart. You look like you’ve had a long day.”

  Mr. Bernoil sighed and took off his shoes. “Where are the other kids?” he said as he walked over to the kitchen to wash his hands in the water bucket.

  “They should be here any minute,” said Mrs. Bernoil as she walked over to check on the food, “they were staying a bit longer with your brother today.”

  Mr. Bernoil dried off his hands and shook his head. “Just because I let them go over there doesn’t mean they can stay as long as they wish.” He continued under his breath, “— all because of that one fight with Aunika . . .”

  “You know it was much more than that . . .” Mrs. Bernoil shuffled a few coals around in the fireplace and then put her hand on Mr. Bernoil’s. She looked into his gray eyes and spoke softly. “Look, I know it’s been hard. We wanted different things for Aunika than she did, and we’re allowed to disagree. But when Aunika left to live with your brother, Cal and Dalah only went because they missed her; they didn’t have anything against you. I know you may not think so, but things are getting better between you and Aunika. And now that the kids are done with their schooling and Aunika has a job, I think that all this bundled up stress is just gonna fade away.”

  Mr. Bernoil nodded. “You’re right . . . as usual.” He gave her a smile and she opened a cabinet to get out five small clay-fired plates for dinner. As she set them down, the front door opened and Aunika and Calleneck walked in — just returning home from the Evertauri after a meeting with Trainer Kishk.

  “We’re home, sorry we’re so late.” said Aunika, hanging her coat on the wall.

  Calleneck closed the door as a cold draft of air blew in and he sniffed the air, smiling. “Smells wonderful Mum; are you making pie?”

  Mr. Bernoil pointed to the fireplace. “She’s making Fjordsman Pie.”

  Aunika walked over to her mother and gave her a hug. “Is Dalah upstairs?”

  “No she’s getting potatoes from —”

  A loud knock on the front door interrupted her. A voice outside called, “Inspections!”

  Aunika and Calleneck’s faces went pale. Inspections? Our bags, the soldiers can’t check them.

  Mr. Bernoil calmly walked toward the front door. “It’s going to be alright everyone.” Mr. Bernoil slowly opened the door, revealing four soldiers dressed in the same armor Calleneck used to wear as Tayben.

  The tallest of them held up a slip of paper with writing stamped by the Government. “City Inspections, Sir.”

  Mr. Bernoil nodded. “Yes, of course, come in.”

  The four soldiers stepped into the house, closing the door behind them. One of them looked around and smiled, “I smell some good food cookin’ in here.”

  The tall soldier assured them, “We’ll only be a few minutes, and then you can get right back to dinner.” The soldier waved to Mrs. Bernoil and the kids in the kitchen. He turned to his men, “You two go upstairs, we’ll take this level.”

  Two soldiers went up the stairs into the bedrooms to search. Mrs. Bernoil put her hands on Calleneck and Aunika’s shoulders. “Just go sit down at the table for a few minutes.”

  Calleneck and Aunika obeyed, taking their secured bags from the Evertauri with them and hiding them under the table. Calleneck’s hands shook as he and Aunika sat waiting at the table. Upstairs, drawers were being opened and closed; books were being taken off shelves, scanned, and put back. On the main level, the two soldiers went through their father’s office.

  Aunika looked at Calleneck with fearful eyes. The same thought ran through both of their heads: is there anything that the soldiers could find? Their parents stood calmly in the kitchen, looking outside at the beautiful lights of the city in the falling snow.

  Calleneck was almost sure Aunika could hear his heart beating outside of his chest. The searched seemed to last hours to Calleneck, waiting, waiting.

  Finally, the soldiers came downstairs and out from the office and all reconvened in the kitchen. The tall soldier look one last look around and then nodded at Mr. and Mrs. Bernoil. “Thank you for your time.” As the soldier was turning toward the door, he stopped. “Oh, let us check those bags.”

  He was pointing straight at Aunika’s lap. Callneck’s breathing stopped, and fear took over. He tried not to let the sheer terror spread over his face. The bag had to be opened with her Taurimous, which the Bernoils would see.

  Aunika stuttered. “I — I can’t”

  The soldier placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Excuse me?”

  “She doesn’t need to open it.” said Calleneck, his heart racing.

  “You too, young man! Put your bag on the table and open it.” Calleneck placed his brown bag on the table.

  Their parents remained silent; their heartbeats nearly visible in their red faces. The three other soldiers stood still with their hands on their swords.

  Calleneck glanced down at Aunika’s hand,
which held a tiny green flame. He looked back up at her with fear. “Aunika no!”

  Aunika launched a stream of green fire at the soldier, knocking him down. Mrs. Bernoil screamed in horror and Aunika sent a blast of green sparks into the hearts of two other soldiers. The sound of an unsheathing sword sent Calleneck tackling the last soldier and quickly putting a powerful shock of crimson fire to the soldier’s temple.

  As soon as it started, it was over, and Mrs. Bernoil stood there with her hand over her mouth, looking at her children like they were monsters. Mr. Bernoil could barely breathe.

  Aunika ran up to her parents, grabbed a pot off the counter, and said, “I’m sorry.” She swiftly knocked them unconscious with two blows, sending them to the floor, sleeping.

  Aunika dropped the pot and knelt over them. She began to cry, muttering, “We’re idiots.”

  Calleneck shoved the dead soldier off of him. “What the hell do you mean we’re idiots!? Why did you attack?!”

  Aunika whipped her head around and stood up. “What were you going to do?! I couldn’t’ve opened that bag without them seeing my Taurimous. And even if I did, they would’ve seen all the papers I have from the Evertauri!”

  “You didn’t have to kill the soldiers!” bursted out Calleneck.

  “You killed that one right there!”

  “Because he was drawing a sword!” yelled Calleneck. “What the hell are we supposed to do now?! The Guard is gonna know that they’re missing four soldiers! They’re gonna be after us in a few hours! Aunika, mum and dad know!”

  Aunika paused. “Yes, I know!”

  “They know, Aunika! They know!” Calleneck’s breathing was heavy. “They’re gonna wake up soon and then what?”

  Aunika fired back with anger heavy in her voice. “I knew the risk from day one, Cal! Don’t tell me how bad this is . . .”

  “You were the one who got us into this mess!”