by Rai Aren
Rekar and Shera had seen to it that a door had been left unlocked. It was a little used side door a few feet from the west wing. It was mainly used as an entrance to a courtyard within the Palace grounds. Zhek had hoped the Royal guards had not checked it.
Armed with swords, the group moved on the side door. Zhek checked it. It was unlocked. He smiled. He turned to the group and nodded. Carefully, he opened it a crack and peered inside. Rekar and Shera had also furnished them with a crude map of the Palace layout, which Zhek and his men had committed to memory. He could hear voices calling out in panic, footsteps running. They had succeeded. The guards were not posted in their usual places.
Zhek signaled his men to move in behind him. They entered the Palace and headed towards the west wing. They paused as they reached the corner. Zhek looked around. They could see the smoke wafting, becoming thicker. ‘The fire must have grown quite large,’ he thought to himself, pleased at the turmoil that was underway.
They continued on, reaching the hallway to the children’s bedrooms. Zhek quickly motioned the men to fall back as a Royal guard came out of a room. Zhek waited, watching what the man would do. The guard positioned himself outside the room. He was the only one in the vicinity.
Zhek whispered to Rekar, “Go back outside and make a noise at the other end of the wing. We need to distract him.”
Rekar nodded, and left to do as ordered. Zhek surveyed the other end of the hallway, he could hear voices, but they were far off. However, they may not be for long. They had to hurry.
A minute later, they heard a loud frantic knocking coming from the other end of the hall. ‘Rekar,’ Zhek thought. He looked. The guard heard the sound and moved to investigate.
This was their chance. Zhek motioned his men and he crouched down and ran towards the guard whose back was to them. With great stealth, Zhek came up behind the man, placed his hand tightly over his mouth, and thrust his sword through the man’s back. He held his hand over the man’s mouth until he stopped struggling. Then he guided the body to the floor. He pulled the corpse around the corner out of sight. A streak of blood was left, but Zhek had other things to attend to.
The group now went to the room where Setar was believed to be. Zhek held his breath and opened the door. The room was empty. He quickly checked it over, but there was no one there.
“They must have moved him,” Zhek whispered to his men. “We must check the other rooms.” Zhek began to cough. He tried to muffle it. The smoke was making it more difficult to breathe, especially for his damaged lungs. He signaled the men to break into two smaller groups to check the other rooms, time was running out.
“Here!” Rembes said, waving them over. He had heard voices coming from within.
The group joined him. Zhek placed an ear to the door. He heard young voices. He nodded. He burst through the door to Tramen’s bedroom, his men following closely behind him.
Inside, Tramen, Anjia, and Setar jumped. The Queen, holding little Alaj, gasped.
Immediately Tramen stood in front of them protectively. “Who are you?” Tramen asked.
Zhek saw the younger boy, hiding behind the Queen. “Setar,” he called out in his rough voice.
“Do not answer him,” Tramen warned.
“I was not speaking to you, Selaren wretch,” Zhek snarled.
“How dare you break into our children’s bedrooms?” Mindara shouted. She was terrified, but she was trying not to show it. “I order you to leave at once.”
Zhek laughed. “Really, your Highness,” he said, taking a step forward. “What will you do if we do not?”
“Guards!” she screamed. Alaj began to cry.
“There is no one here to answer you,” Zhek said, his raspy voice full of malevolence. He brandished his sword.
Seeing the blood still streaked on it, she gasped, shaking.
He had not expected the Queen to be here, but since she was, he intended to kill her. He would have his revenge for Zazmaria’s death.
Though the men’s faces were still covered, Anjia recognized who was speaking. Though she had never met him, she sensed from her vision of Setar who this was. She stepped out from behind her twin brother.
“Zhek,” she said, looking directly at him. Her pendant pulsated with energy.
Mindara was stunned. “It cannot be…” she whispered.
“Well, if it is not the Chosen One herself,” he replied sarcastically, “with her lowly handservant by her side,” he said, leveling a disparaging gaze at Mindara.
She did not respond to the insult.
He turned back to Anjia. “Almighty Child of Prophecy, step aside. I am here for my son.”
“There is no one here you can call your son,” she answered defiantly.
“Unless you wish me to kill everyone in this room, you will do as I say,” Zhek said, stepping forward, swinging his blood-stained sword in front of him. Jonar and Rembes flanked him.
Setar still cringed behind Mindara, afraid and confused as to why this terrifying man wanted him.
“Setar!” Zhek said. “Come forth and meet your true father.” He pulled his face covering off.
Setar was horrified by Zhek’s disfigurement. “You are not my father!” Setar cried out, shrinking away.
“Yes, Setar, I am,” Zhek said stepping towards him. “These injuries were caused by the King. The same King who has lied to you your entire life. He is not your father, I am and I can prove it.” Zhek went to reach for his collar.
At that moment, Tramen unsheathed his own sword. He had had been carrying it since Anjia told him of her vision regarding Zhek, and the fact that Setar was his biological son. He had kept the secret to protect Setar and he intended to keep protecting him.
Anjia read her twin brother’s thoughts. Tramen lunged at one Zhek’s henchmen. She closed her eyes and put the image of a raging fire in each of the men’s minds, including Zhek, temporarily blinding them to what was happening in front of them. They each recoiled, putting their arms up to protect themselves from the imaginary flames and heat. Zhek especially was affected by the vision, knowing firsthand the pain of burning flesh.
In a split second, Tramen struck the closest guard with his sword. He cut the man deeply on his hand. He dropped his sword, crying out in pain. Tramen picked it up and threw it to Anjia. She deftly caught it and swung it at Jonar, cutting him deep in his shoulder. He fell to the floor and she kicked his sword to Mindara. The Queen picked it up with one hand, the other arm holding the wailing Alaj. She stood ready to defend herself and the children.
The men came to their senses, their vision clearing. Zhek saw his two fallen men, writhing in agony. “Get up!” he yelled. “Get them!”
At that moment, they heard footsteps outside the door. It was Assan, followed by two Royal guards and several priests. They were all armed with swords.
“Assan!” Anjia called out in relief.
Assan looked directly at Zhek. Even through his disfiguring injuries, Assan knew who he was. “So, it is true, then. You are alive.”
Zhek did not answer, as his mind raced to find a way out of this.
Assan quickly surveyed the room. Only three of Zhek’s men still stood, ready to fight. “You are out-numbered Zhek. Cease your aggression!”
“I do not think so,” Zhek replied defiantly. “We have ensured our little diversion will aid us sufficiently.”
“I had a bad feeling about the cause of this fire,” Assan said, his eyes narrowing. “And I remembered your vision, Princess. It seems you were right about the threat Zhek posed.”
Astonished, Zhek looked at Anjia. He could not believe what he was hearing. ‘How could she have possibly known I was alive?’ he thought. Perhaps she did have powers they should fear. ‘She could ruin everything, she must be destroyed once and for all,’ he silently vowed.
Princess Anjia looked at Zhek, reading his intent. Her steadfast gaze unnerved him.
Assan saw the unspoken interaction between the two. He needed to get the attention off of the Princess. “We are still one step ahead of you, Zhek. You can never defeat this family. Give it up, now!”
Zhek was furious that his plot to be reunited with his son was threatened. Having a long held hatred of the Head Priest, Zhek let out a loud cry, and rushed at Assan. His henchmen followed his lead, attacking the Royal guards.
Assan fought off Zhek’s blows with his own sword as the Royals watched in horror. Tramen rushed to join the fray, but Jonar, still injured on the floor, tripped him. Tramen fell heavily against the wood floor. Leaving Tramen no chance to react, Jonar got up fast, and kicked him hard in the side of the head.
“Tramen!” Anjia screamed.
Tramen slumped down in an unconscious heap.
“Princess, get back!” Assan yelled out, still engaged in a deadly battle with Zhek.
Mindara grabbed Anjia and Setar, who had just stood there in shock, watching the macabre scene unfold around him. She took the three children to the far corner of the room. She held her sword out as a warning for anyone who dared come near her children. She had had to fight for her life once. She knew what was required and was prepared to do the same again.
Assan and his men were overpowering Zhek’s group, but the fight was furious as swords clanged and clashed against one another. The priests swarmed them. Zhek knew his fight was lost. With furious rage, he pushed Assan, who hit the wall, Zhek then swung around, knocking two of the priests to the ground. He leapt over top of them. Most of Zhek’s men were captured. Rembes managed to escape, with Jonar following behind. Rembes ran around the corner, peering back.
Assan stumbled then righted himself, about to go after the fleeing Zhek.
“Zhek! Lookout behind you!” Rembes yelled.
Zhek turned and saw Assan coming for him, sword in hand. He took his curved dagger from his belt and threw it hard at the Head Priest, hitting him square in the chest. The blade, perfectly aimed, punctured his heart. Assan fell to the ground as bright red blood poured forth from the wound, staining his white robes. Zhek fled, Jonar and Rembes racing behind him.
“Assan! No!” Anjia cried out. Mindara tried to hold her back, but she pulled free and ran to the fallen priest. Anjia knelt down beside him, her tears flowing.
Assan looked at her for a brief moment. “You will be a great leader, Princess…” he spoke in the barest of whispers. “Trust…” he choked, his voice now only a gurgle as he spat up dark red blood.
“Assan, please stay with me,” she cried, stroking his face.
He looked at her as his eyes glazed over. They fluttered, then closed. He was still.
She bent her head down, sobbing, her shoulders heaving.
Tramen came to, moaning.
One of the guards shouted, “Tie them up!” They had the rest of Zhek’s men outnumbered and subdued. Once the men were put into restraints, the guard ordered them taken to the holding cells to be held as prisoners of the Royal Family.
A priest went to tend to Prince Tramen, helping him to his feet. “Your Majesty.”
“I will be all right,” Tramen said, but his head throbbed and his vision was blurred. The right side of his face was swollen and he had a large, red welt where Jonar had kicked him,
One of the guards went over to the frightened Queen. “Your Majesty, are you and the Princes hurt?”
She looked down at Alaj, who was still crying hard, then at Setar, who seemed to be in shock. “No, we are fine. Please, go find my husband, tell him what happened. I will look after the children.”
“Yes, your Majesty, at once,” he bowed.
Tramen, slightly unsteady on his feet, went over to his sister. She was bent over Assan’s lifeless body, crying.
“Assan? I will go get help…” Tramen started to say, but then stopped when he saw the severe wound the Head Priest had suffered.
“He is gone,” Anjia said, through her tears. “It was Zhek.”
“Oh no. Assan…” Tramen whispered, kneeling down next to his sister. He could not believe his eyes. The Head Priest lay there before them, his life force cruelly extinguished. Tramen put his arm around Anjia, and she crumpled into him, burying her face in his shoulder, crying uncontrollably. Tramen, too, was overcome with emotion at the sudden, painful loss of their lifelong friend and mentor. “He was a brave man…”
Anjia nodded. “He saved us,” she said through her tears, her voice cracking. “Assan gave his life to save us.” She touched her pendant, it felt cooler than it ever had. She was devastated, shaken to her very core.
“Zhek will not get away with this,” Tramen said. “He will pay for what he has done. Our family will see to that.”
yyyyy
The fire raged on in the east wing of the Palace when the Royal guard found the King and the Commander bravely trying to battle it alongside their men. The fire was still intense, and though they had made some headway in containing it, it remained a fierce fight. Reports had already come in of Palace servants who were missing. The King feared the worst.
“Your Majesty! Commander!” the guard called out. “I must speak with you.”
The King and his Commander turned, their faces covered with ash. The guard informed them of the deadly battle that had taken place in Tramen’s room. They were shocked.
“It was all a trick, to distract us,” the King said, sickened at the thought. He wiped the sweat from his face. He coughed from the smoke. “He only wanted Setar.” He looked to the Commander.
“We must find Zhek,” Maraeven said, his voice also raspy from the smoke. “I will send out at once whatever men we can spare to search for him.”
“Commander, you must also keep the fire from spreading any further. If you cannot, we must evacuate the Palace,” the King ordered. “I must go to my family. I will return to help as soon as I can.”
“Yes, your Majesty,” the Commander answered.
The King looked back at the blazing inferno. Once again the Draxens had unleashed a nightmarish evil on his family. He knew it would never end until Zhek was dead.
yyyyy
At first daylight, once they were certain the area was reasonably safe, workers began to sift through smoldering ruins. The smell of smoke wafted through the morning air, as the city awoke to witness a great grey plume wafting amongst the clouds.
Very little of the east wing of the Palace remained standing. Charred sections of the structure were strewn about. Walls that had once stood tall were burned to less than half their height. Grass and nearby trees were singed and blackened. Birds stayed far away. The sight was eerie and surreal. A grey haze hung over the site like a veil of sorrow.
The King had decided not to reveal to anyone outside his inner circle that the Palace wing was purposely set fire to in an attempt to cover a failed kidnapping. He had said it was an accidental fire and that Assan had died trying to help in the blaze. It was almost as honorable as the way he truly died. The King wanted to downplay the incident primarily to protect Setar from any unwelcome attention. Traeus also wanted it kept quiet how their defenses were broken through. He had grave concerns for the safety of his family and ordered Commander Maraeven to have every security procedure they had reviewed for flaws and tightened immediately. The Royal Palace would remain in a state of heightened security for as along as it took to neutralize the on-going threat.