Chaos Trapped

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Chaos Trapped Page 2

by Eric T Knight


  Ely grabbed Fen with one meaty fist, a triumphant smile on his face. He leaned in close to Fen’s ear, and in a low voice he said, “Not so high and mighty anymore, are you, boy?” His breath stank of rum, and his belly bulged from his shirt where two of the buttons had popped off.

  Fen hated him at that moment. He longed to smash him in the face with his fist. But he knew he did not have the strength yet, and he also knew that if he was to have any chance of getting through to the Fist, he had to go along with whatever he decreed. So he bit his tongue and said nothing.

  Ely’s smile disappeared when Fen did not rise to the bait. “You’ll be crying soon enough,” he said. “I’ll see to that. And I’ll be there when they cut your head from your shoulders, standing in the front row eating a meat pie and enjoying every moment of it.”

  He ripped the badge of rank from Fen’s surcoat. He twisted Fen’s arm behind his back, hard enough that Fen’s shoulder popped painfully. He grabbed Fen’s other arm and pulled it back also, then bound Fen’s wrists securely together.

  “Now walk,” he said, giving Fen a hard shove. Fen staggered, then righted himself. He felt the tip of a sword press into his back, and he began walking.

  ╬ ╬ ╬

  When they left the palace, dawn was just breaking. Ely drew in a deep breath and smacked Fen on the shoulder with his sword. “It’s the start of a new day,” he chortled. “It’s going to be a fine one, one of the best days ever I think.”

  They passed out into the city. In the light Fen could more clearly see the terrible destruction that the Samkaran army had wrought, and it stunned him. So much senseless killing and madness. How had his people fallen to this? he wondered.

  He knew the answer to that question. It was the Ankharan sorcerers who were behind it. And behind them Lowellin. And behind him the Devourers, the creatures from the Abyss who wanted the key. He and his people were nothing more than pawns in a much larger game.

  But that did not make them blameless. He had a sick feeling that the sorcery unleashed last night didn’t cause the Samkaran soldiers to become mindless, bloodthirsty animals, so much as it unlocked brutality that was already there, hidden underneath the veneer of civilization. After all, the Maradi had done much the same when they sacked Samkara. Was this what he had become a soldier for, what he had sweated and bled for, so that as soon as the opportunity came, the Samkaran army could do to another city what had been done to theirs? What was the point of any of it then? Where was the justice? Where was the righteous path?

  Fen and Ely passed a small group of soldiers standing at an intersection. Blood spattered them, and their weapons hung slack in their grips. In their faces he saw shock and horror, as they faced the reality of what they had done in the light of the new day. Strangely, the sight made him feel slightly better, knowing he wasn’t the only one who was troubled by what had happened here.

  As they made their way through the ruined city, Ely continued to taunt Fen, but Fen barely heard him. Too many fears and worries crowded his thoughts. He’d seen a flicker of the Barik he knew for just a moment, before Maphothet intervened. If he could get the Fist alone, would he be able to get through to him? He had to believe that there was still a chance.

  He was worried about Ravin too. She might still be lying unconscious in that cavern. Or she could be lost down there, stumbling around in the darkness, unable to find the way out. Even if she did find her way out, the streets of the city were a dangerous place. There were still bands of marauding soldiers roaming about. Fen shuddered to think what they might do to her if they caught her.

  With no response from Fen to feed his taunts, Ely had grown quiet by the time the two of them finally emerged from the city. The servants and camp followers had set up the army’s camp during the night. The tents of the Fist and other high-ranking officers had been erected on the side of a low tree-covered hill. Wagons were drawn up and arrayed in lines. Hospital tents were set up. Cooks were at work preparing large cauldrons of food, while whole pigs and sheep turned on spits over fires.

  A few hundred soldiers had returned to the camp already. Only a few were wounded. Many of them had a haunted look about them. They glanced briefly at Fen and then averted their gazes, as if seeing something there that was too painful.

  Captain Rouk was outside the Fist’s tent. There was a bowl of water sitting on a stump, and the wiry man was using it to clean blood from his face and hands. He didn’t look haunted. If anything, he wore a look of satisfaction, like a cat that has eaten well and is cleaning itself afterwards. He looked at Fen, and a smile appeared on his face.

  “This day just gets better and better,” he said.

  “Got a traitor for you, captain,” Ely said. “The Fist said to turn him over to you.”

  “What did you do this time, Fen?” Rouk asked.

  Fen didn’t bother to answer. He knew nothing he said would make any difference.

  “He tried to kill the Ankharans,” Ely said. “Thought he’d use the noise of battle to take out an enemy.”

  “I’m guessing he didn’t succeed,” Rouk said.

  “The Fist wants to take him back to Samkara and put him on trial.”

  “I’ll make sure he gets there,” Rouk said. “It’ll sure be something to see. Go get a blacksmith. Tell him to bring his hammer and a chain.”

  Ely saluted and sauntered off. “You finally went too far,” Rouk said, wiping away the rest of the blood and coming to stand before Fen. “You thought being the Fist’s chosen one made you untouchable. You thought it meant you could do anything and get away with it. I guess you know better now, traitor.”

  “I’m not a traitor,” Fen said. “I was trying to protect my king and my people. Which is what you should be doing.”

  “Is that so?” Rouk searched Fen’s eyes and nodded. “You know, I really think you believe that.”

  “Because it’s the truth.”

  “Huh. How about another truth? You were jealous of the Ankharans from the moment they arrived. You thought they were taking your place in the Fist’s favor. You watched for your chance to kill them and get them out of the way.”

  “You’re an ass, Rouk, but you’re not blind. You saw what happened last night, what the sorcerers did to those people.” Rouk flinched slightly, and Fen knew the way those prisoners had died troubled him too. “Use your head and think. Why are they here? Why did they cross the sea to help us? Out of the goodness of their hearts? You can’t possibly believe that. Wake up. Ask yourself why they’re really here, what they really want.”

  A flicker of uncertainty crossed Rouk’s face. But it passed quickly, and he frowned. “Don’t even try it, traitor. It won’t work on me. I’m loyal to my king. So long as he says the Ankharans are our allies, that’s what they are. I follow orders because I’m a soldier, and that’s what soldiers do. Something you never quite figured out.”

  “So you follow orders mindlessly, even if it’s clear you’re marching over a cliff and taking all of Samkara with you?”

  Rouk shook his head. “You’re dumber than I thought. We’re not marching over a cliff, boy. Look around you. We just defeated our oldest enemy, and we lost hardly a man. Every other nation on this island is going to be rushing to bend a knee to our Fist. We own this island now. That doesn’t look like marching over a cliff to me.”

  “That still doesn’t answer why the Ankharans are helping us. Can’t you get it through your thick head that they are using us, that sooner or later we’re going to pay a price for this?”

  “That’s for the Fist to sort out, not me.” Ely came back with the blacksmith then. The blacksmith was carrying his hammer, manacles, and a length of stout chain. Rouk looked around, then pointed at a tall elm tree behind the Fist’s command tent. “That one should do. Bring him,” he told Ely, and headed that way.

  Fen knew the man, although not well. He’d been to see him several times, when he needed something mended. The blacksmith kept his eyes down while he worked. When he was done, and F
en was securely chained to the tree, the blacksmith mumbled “Sorry” and hurried away.

  Rouk tugged on the chain a few times, satisfying himself that it was secure. He turned to Ely. “Sergeant, find me a half dozen men to serve as guards.” Ely saluted and hurried off. A few minutes later he was back with six soldiers following him. They looked at Fen with unspoken questions in their eyes, but quickly looked away when Rouk snapped at them.

  “Spread out around this tree. No one is to talk to the prisoner without my permission.” He pointed to one of the men who had a corporal’s badge sewn to his surcoat. “You, corporal. I’m putting you in charge. If anything happens, it will be your head. Understand?”

  The corporal said, “Yes, sir,” and saluted. He scratched his neck and hesitantly asked, “Captain, sir?”

  “What?”

  “Ah…what’s he chained up for, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “I do mind your asking,” Rouk snapped. “It’s not your job to ask questions.”

  “Sorry, sir,” the man said, coming to attention.

  “But in this case, I’ll make an exception, because I want the entire camp to know this man’s crime.” Several soldiers had drifted close while Fen was being chained up, and he raised his voice so that they could hear his next words. “This man is a traitor to the king! He is being taken back to Samkara to stand trial. If anyone sees him trying to escape, you are authorized to use any means to stop him. Even if that means killing him.”

  He surveyed the men, seeing how his words sank in, then walked off without another word.

  The soldiers took up their posts. Fen knew the corporal, having trained with him a number of times. His name was Ryen. He was a little older than Fen and friendly enough. He glanced at Fen a couple of times, and once Fen thought he was going to say something, but then he looked away. Fen thought about trying to talk to him but gave it up as a bad idea. What good would it do to convince the man of the truth? There was nothing he could do about it anyway, and Fen didn’t want to get him into trouble.

  Fen sat down and leaned against the tree. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so exhausted. He felt utterly defeated. He remembered how much hope he’d had for the future. It wasn’t that long ago that things had seemed so simple. He had his oath to his king and his country, and he had his duty. The way forward was so clear.

  He cursed the day the Ankharan ship showed up. That was the day everything changed. But then he remembered that first night, when Samkara fell to the Maradi army. He remembered the shadow that appeared behind Barik when he rose from the pile of bodies, the hands that emerged, and the black smoke that flowed into him. That was truly when it all started. They’d all been pawns from that moment onward.

  But why? Why go to so much trouble to manipulate the Fist? Clearly Lowellin caused the invasion of Marad so that he could get his hands on the key fragment. And for that he needed Fen to remove the crystal that was sealing the vault where the fragment was held. But why not simply kidnap Fen and force him to do it? Why go to all the trouble of building an army and invading?

  Unless it was because Lowellin needed the army for another purpose. But what could that purpose be? What Rouk said was true. With Marad conquered, the other nations on the island would quickly kneel to Samkara. None of them were a real threat.

  Maybe there was another, more powerful nation across the sea. In the cavern Lowellin said there were other pieces of the key he still needed to acquire. It was why he wanted Fen kept alive, in case he needed him again. Maybe he needed the Samkaran army to invade the nation where the next piece was kept.

  Which still didn’t explain why he simply didn’t take Fen with him and go steal the other pieces. With Ilsith’s ability to travel through the shadows, there wasn’t anywhere he couldn’t go. Maybe whoever had the next piece of the key was protecting it from Lowellin somehow, and that was why he needed Samkara’s army.

  Too many questions and not enough answers.

  Fen shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, cold even though the warm sun was shining on him. The chaos power had spread throughout his body, rendering him helpless. There was no way he could reach Stone power. Even the slightest attempt to reach for it caused spasms of pain. Not since that dark night when Samkara fell to the Maradi had he felt so utterly helpless. The forces arrayed against him were so vast, so completely beyond him. Despair threatened to swallow him in its dark folds.

  Fen pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and fought the urge to simply lie down and give up.

  He heard a voice and looked up. What he saw brought light into his darkness.

  It was Ravin. Her dress was dirty and torn, and there was a bloody scratch on her cheek, but she’d never looked more beautiful than she did right then. Corporal Ryen had his hand on her arm, stopping her from going to Fen. “No one is allowed to speak to the prisoner.”

  She pulled away from him, her dark eyes flashing. “Why? What are you afraid of?” She held up her hands. “I’m a girl. I’m not armed. Do you think I’ll take your sword away and free him? Is that it?”

  There were still a number of soldiers loitering nearby, and a couple of them chuckled when she said that. Ryen’s face turned red, and he coughed into his hand. “Miss, my orders are—”

  “To make sure he doesn’t escape, right?”

  Ryen shifted his feet. He looked to the other soldiers posted as guards for help but saw none. “Well…”

  “Let me speak to him. What harm can it do?”

  Ryen wiped sweat from his forehead. “Okay. But make it quick, before the captain comes back.”

  Ravin touched his arm. “Thank you.” She hurried over to Fen. Fen tried to stand, but he was still weak, and she put her hand on his shoulder and stopped him. “It’s okay, Fen.” She dropped into a crouch beside him.

  “You’re okay,” Fen said, touching her face. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it out of there.”

  “It wasn’t easy. I fell down a few times. I barked my shin pretty hard.”

  “No one bothered you in the city?”

  “I ran into Wolfpack squad after I left the cemetery,” she said. “They escorted me out.”

  Fen felt a lump of gratitude toward his squad mates.

  She took hold of his hands. “You’re freezing.”

  “It’s nothing,” he said.

  “Don’t say that. It’s not nothing. It’s the chaos power that Ilsith infected you with, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “I feel like there’s a war going on inside me.” He shivered again.

  “What is it doing to you?”

  “I can’t reach the Stone,” he whispered, looking around to make sure none of the guards were close enough to hear. Ryen was hovering close, looking around worriedly, but he gave no sign of hearing. “It’s like the chaos power is a wall of ice between it and me.”

  “Lowellin did it because he’s afraid of you,” she said. “He knows you have the power to stop him.”

  Fen managed a rueful smile. “I don’t feel very powerful right now.”

  “You’ll find a way to break through.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. It’s so distant. I can barely feel it at all.”

  “No,” she said fiercely. “Don’t talk like that. Don’t ever talk like that. You’ll find a way through this. I believe in you. I’ll be right here with you the whole way.”

  “About that,” he said, taking her hand. “I don’t know…I don’t know how this will go. I’m not sure I can get through to Barik. He almost killed me this morning. He would have, if Maphothet hadn’t stopped him. I don’t want you to—”

  “Don’t you say it, Fen,” she snapped. “Don’t even think of saying it. I said I would stand by you no matter what comes, and I meant that. I will not abandon you, I don’t care what happens to me.”

  Fen had never loved her more than he did right then. Her dedication to him, her belief in him, made all the difference. He sat up straighter, the burdens on him no longer quite so h
eavy. He tried a weak smile. “Okay. I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “It’s called life. There’s no way to avoid getting hurt.”

  His smile was a little bigger this time. “Heard and noted.”

  Her expression darkened. “What happened last night outside the walls? All of a sudden the whole army went berserk and then…” She didn’t need to say any more. They’d both seen the carnage up close.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It was like the Fist infected us. When he started yelling about retribution, I kind of lost my mind. All I wanted was to hurt as many of them as I could.”

  She bit her lower lip. “But you…you didn’t, did you?”

  He shook his head. “I almost did, though. I think maybe the Stone power protected me somewhat. Right before we charged into the city I realized what was happening.”

  “And your squad? Did they…?”

  “I was able to snap them out of it. Again, I think the Stone power helped me. I think it’s sort of a natural defense against the chaos power the Ankharan sorcerers are using. Which makes sense if the Shapers were put here to defend against the Devourers.”

  “Thank the gods for that,” she said.

  “Not gods. The masters,” Fen said.

  “What? Who are the masters?”

  “I don’t know exactly. They’re the ones who hid the pieces of the key here. They created the Shapers to guard the key so the Devourers couldn’t get out of the Abyss.”

  “How do you know all that?” But before he could answer, she waved him off. “Later. I don’t need to know that right now. What comes next?”

  “I don’t know,” Fen said. He told her briefly what happened in the throne room. “I’m going back to Samkara to stand trial. I expect I’ll be found guilty and sentenced to execution.”

  “No. I don’t believe that. Once the Fist calms down and you talk to him…”

  “I hope you’re right, but I don’t think it’s going to be that easy. You didn’t see his expression when Maphothet told him I’d betrayed him.”

 

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