by Kate Sander
She screamed and sobbed. Armend yelled, “Take her away! She murdered the Queen!”
Rosie kept her eyes on Annie’s as they dragged her away thrashing and twisting. She wanted to get back to her sister. Annie was laying there, hair strewn about her. Her beautiful blue eyes glazed and staring blankly. Finally one of the guards grew tired of Rosie’s screaming and thrashing and touched her with the electrified end of a Pulse stick. Rosie felt pain throughout her body. She convulsed on the floor and passed out.
She woke in one of her dungeons. She didn’t care. She didn’t eat when they fed her, she didn’t sleep when the Pulse light went off. She was dead inside. She just saw Annie’s cold dead eyes and heard her last words, “Oh Rosie. I found you. You’re home.” They played over and over in her head. Never once did Rosie stop to think about why Annie had fallen. It wasn’t even in any thought process. The bruises on Annie’s neck and jaw were forgotten.
“Oh Rosie. I found you. You’re home.”
Rosie sat on the side of her stone cot and waited. She knew what was coming but she was broken. She didn’t care. But the irony was not lost on her that the methods she had so carefully developed and fine-tuned would soon be used on her.
They came for her a few days later, or weeks, or months. Rosie couldn’t be sure. She just sat on the edge of her cot and remembered her sister’s cold dead blue eyes.
“Oh Rosie. I found you. You’re home.”
They brought her to room 7X. She didn’t scream. She didn’t beg. She just stared straight ahead. When the new Intelligence, Armend’s minion he used to call Sebastian, asked her if she killed the Queen, she nodded. When he asked her why, she stared straight ahead.
The new Intelligence was careful, but he was clearly an amateur, used to killing and not getting information. He tried too hard to cause a lot of pain at the start and didn’t take his time ramping up to the crescendo. At one point in her life she would have instructed him. At one point she would have told him that one well designed session could do the work of ten poorly executed. But she couldn’t bring herself to care. She nodded when he asked her if she’d done it and stared during all other questions. She didn’t scream, flinch or cry. Eventually he grew bored and sent her back to her cell.
A brief thought crossed her mind that prisoner 613 had once reacted to torture the same way as she just had and she had admired her. But 613 wasn’t broken, and Rosie was. She looked down and popped her three broken fingers back into place.
She saw Annie’s eyes. Her cold, blue, dead eyes. She put her head in her hands and wept. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed to no one, “Oh Annie I’m so sorry.”
They came for her again a few days later. She expected it and relished it. It would finally be over. The guards walked her out of the dungeons. They didn’t bother to bind her hands or feet, they knew she wouldn’t try to run or fight.
They walked her to the top of a tower, to the most public gallows. Thousands upon thousands of people from Solias booed her presence. She didn’t care. She didn’t even feel the old and rotten vegetables that hit her faded white prison robe. She allowed herself one gift. She started to picture the day in the garden. She, barely nine, her sister seventeen.
She didn’t fight when her lover, Justice, put the noose over her head. She didn’t notice his cold stare of disgust. She didn’t even hear him say “I loved you,” into her ear.
She pictured her and Annie running in the garden. The wind blowing through the trees, the smell of autumn in the air, her sister turning to put flowers in her hair.
The floor underneath her disappeared.
Her pulse stopped when the rope snapped straight, breaking her neck.
The thought of her bright, blue-eyed sister in the garden, flowers in her hair, her dearest Annie, was burned forever in her mind.
29
Armend
“We have had a terrible month, here in Solias.” Armend’s voice was strong, carrying across the large open courtyard. The Sun Gods were ready to march. They all stood at attention, armour polished and gleaming. At least it would be gleaming if the rain wasn’t pounding on them. It hadn’t let up since the wedding. The moat was flooding and sewage had started to seep up in the slums. Armend was entirely focused on the upcoming march. He didn’t have time for trivial things like a little bit of rain.
He looked at the thousands of Sun Gods at perfect attention, his heart swimming with pride. They would crush the Melanthios. They would kill them all. Women, children, elderly. Anyone who stood in their way.
“The King was murdered!” he yelled. The thousands yelled and beat their fists on their chests, making one thunderous noise.
“The Queen was murdered!”
A thunderous crash of fists.
“I caught the murderer! The traitor Intelligence was hanged on that gallows!” He pointed to his right where the noose blew in the breeze. “She told me that she had killed Sol XIX and Titus as well. She gloated even!”
Thunder of fists on chests.
“She bragged about being sent by the Melanthios. She said they would kill us all! Our city is under attack. We must take no mercy!”
Crash.
“We must take no prisoners.”
Crash.
“We will go and kill them all!”
Crash.
Armend yelled and raised his fist. The Sun Gods yelled with him, a single chorus of hate. Armend’s heart swelled with pride. He turned and nodded to Sebastian beside him, who, in turn, nodded to the Generals. The command to march was given. The Sun Gods turned in unison and marched out of the square. Armend quickly straightened his crown, hoping no one noticed he had knocked it slightly askew.
Armend headed back into the castle, shaking off the rain when he got inside. Sebastian fell in step behind him. They walked up to the main chambers reserved for the monarch. Armend had only been King for two weeks but he had turned the guest suit into his armoury. His shining gold armour glinted in the center of the room.
“Let’s get me into this. I need to get ready. Send a servant to bring my horse to the gate. I want to leave with the rest of the army.”
Sebastian nodded and started dressing him.
“This is stupid,” he said as he tightened the chest plate, “You have never marched to war. You just got the crown and now you’re going to be killed in battle.”
Armend scoffed, “You’ve mentioned this before. I told you I’m not an idiot, and these Melanthios are savages. The longest part of this war will be the march and sharpening our swords after. Besides, I’ve been training for war for years. I finally get a chance to whet my blade again.”
“Don’t you think you should set up a Generals meeting, maybe plan the attack?”
Armend looked at him. He was definitely starting to overstep his boundaries, “I am the King!” He yelled, spittle flying. He was disappointed when Sebastian didn’t look afraid. He hadn’t even jumped. “You will do well to remember that,” he said, calmer now.
Sebastian just shrugged, nonchalantly. A servant boy came and told them their horses were in the courtyard.
Armend’s mood instantly brightened, “Good! We will march with the army. Make sure my wagon with the bed and food is on its way as well!”
The servant nodded and left the room.
Armend saw the look on Sebastian’s face, “I have no intention of roughing it. I am the King, and will have all of the comforts.”
Sebastian shrugged again. They left the chamber and walked. Armend had a boy hold a step so he could mount his horse in full armour. Sebastian, being in his rain cloak and light boots with no armour, lightly hopped onto his horse.
They rode hard and caught up to the army which was just leaving the city. The full armour weighed them down. The rain pounded and the men slogged forward.
“What is the meaning of this?” Armend demanded, stopping his horse beside the General leading the march. He had to yell to be heard over the storm. The General looked surprised.
“Meanin
g of what, sir?” he yelled back at Armend.
“Why are we still so close to the city?” Armend yelled. “They are moving too slowly.”
The General looked at Sebastian for some help. Sebastian just shrugged. He clearly wasn’t going to be helping the General out any time soon.
“Sir they are in full armour and the weather does us no favors. The mud sucks them down. Perhaps order a stop and allow them to change into their marching uniform? We could put our armour back on after we clear the rain.”
Armend frowned, thinking hard. The dreams of his illustrious march, his men in shining armour marching forward to slay the foe, was dying with the rain.
“Fine! But as soon as the rain clears, they are to change back into full armour!”
The General nodded and ordered a halt just a few hundred yards from Solias. The men scrambled to change out of their armour and load it into wagons. Armend sighed. This was not going as he planned. He perked up when he pictured his men riding into a Melanthios village. He pictured them killing everyone in the village, taking the women for Armend and themselves. He hoped he would even have the pleasure to meet Prisoner 613 again. He smiled, picturing her face as he raped her over and over until he saw her spirit crack. He would do what Intelligence never could. He would break her. His mood instantly perked up with the vision. He rode to his wagon and knew that even with the change of plans and the delay in the schedule, they would still kill them all.
30
Senka
She woke up alone. It shouldn’t have bothered her, she had woken up alone countless times before she knew Jules. But it did. His empty side of the bed made her lonely. She sighed and rose, making breakfast and tea.
She just finished eating and drinking her tea when there was a hurried knock on her door. Eli yelled, “Senka! News from Solias just reached the Shaman. You and the other Generals are to meet by the falls.”
Senka hurried and cleaned up breakfast and made her way out of her door. In the two weeks since Jules had been banished, fighters from other villages had come to their main village. She was hard pressed to call them armies, as many villages could only send a handful of people, but the more trained fighters the better. The clearing outside her house was filled with tents. There were so many that people had started setting them up in between houses in the village and into the trees.
The Melanthios were ready to make this a war.
Senka joined Eli, Tory and Ujarak who were waiting for her. They would lead their village together. Theirs was named Ismat, though most didn’t have names. They were the Melanthios, they were one.
They went as a group of four towards the falls. Still, subconsciously, they left a space between Eli and Ujarak where Jules would normally walk. Senka didn’t think about it, his betrayal still hurt worse than any torture she’d been through. She rubbed her face, feeling the large scar across it. Setting her shoulders, she joined the Generals at the waterfall.
There were around thirty in all. Senka would need to divide them, she couldn’t keep track of thirty sets of people during the battle.
The Shaman nodded at her approach and the Generals stopped talking and looked at her. Their eyes drifted to the scar on her face. She had learned to ignore it. Continuing, with Eli, Tory and Ujarak in tow, she stood on the right side of the Shaman.
He nodded at them and started the meeting.
“First, I must tell you all that the Queen is dead.”
Shock ran through the faces of the Generals. Senka heard and buried it. After the last letter, she wasn’t surprised. Her job was to face the false king. Tory, Eli and Ujarak, if they survived, had agreed to find the princes after the war was over.
After a sidelong glance to Senka, who was standing cross armed watching the men and women in front of her, the Shaman continued, “They say it was her sister, the Head of Intelligence, who killed her and the King. I don’t believe that this is so, though I don’t have any proof. My belief is that the new King, this usurper, this King of lies, committed both murders. I believe that he has committed countless more. We can do nothing about that. We will never believe him and his lies.”
The Generals voiced their agreement.
“This is Senka,” the Shaman gestured to her. They all knew what was coming next. Eli put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Ujarak, who had begun to carry his giant Warhammer on his back, cracked his neck and shifted his stance. Tory shrugged her bow slightly off her shoulder. The Shaman signed to them, “Easy,” then stated to the rest, “She is a Zoya.”
When the Generals nodded and no one attacked, they all relaxed.
“They knew,” Tory signed to them.
“I feel silly,” Eli signed. They all snorted. The Generals, who couldn’t understand them, stared at them quizzically.
“Sorry,” Eli spoke up to the Generals, “Senka here got her tongue cut out by the old Head of Intelligence in Solias. We can translate for her. We aren’t being rude, we just sometimes will forget and chat.”
The Generals nodded again. Something told Senka that the Shaman had already briefed them on all of this. She gave him a look, and he just smiled with his wrinkles covering his eyes.
“We need to come up with a game-plan,” a large man of about forty said. He had a Warhammer as well.
“The best way to make their numbers insignificant is the valley north of Ismat,” Tory piped up, “The problem is that we haven’t figured out any way to draw them there.”
A woman, also with a bow, said with a thick accent, “Can’t we send someone to lead them there? A pretend defector?”
Tory shook her head, Eli said, “Too obvious. Plus it’s a suicide mission.”
Senka signed, “I could go.” Tory smacked her upside the head.
“Use your damn head,” she said, “They would just torture you for fun. Your scar gives you away as the prisoner, hun. They would see right through you.”
“Then we need to figure out a way to head them off,” another General said.
“Exactly, though not ideal, it’s our best shot,” Tory said.
“They aren’t home in the woods. We are,” Eli continued. The Generals all nodded. “We can use stealth and the forest to our advantage. Hit them well before they get to Ismat.”
“We agree,” said the large man with the Warhammer.
“I can’t control thirty,” Senka signed. Tory translated for her. “Who here specializes with bows?” About six of the General put up their hands, “Good. You will answer to Tory. Your men will answer to you.” They nodded. “Hammers?” Eight of the Generals, including the large man who had been talking, raised their hands, “You answer to Ujarak.” They nodded as well and split off to stand nearer to him. Senka saw there were still about fifteen Generals left. “Who specializes in scouting?” Five of them nodded in unison, “Good. You will send your best scouts with Eli. Eli will then be in charge of the great swords. That puts Eli with the most and two jobs. If Eli goes down in scouting, I will take the great swords and the melee. If everyone just shuts up and listens, we might have a chance. Deal?”
They waited for Tory to speak and said, “Deal.”
“Wait,” Tory signed. “Give me and Ujarak the great swords. It gives Eli the room to scout. When he gets back he’ll take half the great swords back. Leaves him free to focus and you free to run the show. And do whatever it is you want to do during the fight.”
Senka thought about it. The Shaman said, “May I chime in?”
Senka nodded.
“Allow Caedmon to take the great swords,” The Shaman pointed to a small man in the back, standing quietly. “He is on his way to becoming a master, and is more than willing to lead in battle.”
Senka thought about it and checked his aura. It was gold. Not as illustrious as her masters had been, but tarnished and dirty. Senka liked it and trusted him. He would do what needed to be done. She nodded and the small man with the sword larger than he was joined Ujarak, Tory and Eli beside her. He had a thick beard, and she was sure if he
tried to speak it would be a squeak.
“Ok, done.” Senka signed. She turned to the Shaman, “When do they march?”
“They already have. They decided to go in full armour, which works in our favour. However, first count puts them at well over ten thousand troops. At least one thousand are Exalted. They will be at the forest in five days. I suggest we have our plan ready by then.”
“Ok.” Senka signed as Tory translated, “Leaders, I want you to take your Generals and get to know who is going to be going to war under your command. I want a good assessment of overall skill by the end of the day. The only way we stand a chance is if we use every single man and woman to their best potential. This evening, after dinner, we will discuss if some have to switch roles.”
The Generals all nodded in agreement and they dispersed. Eli and Tory went with them, chatting. Ujarak waited. The Shaman noticed Ujarak and disappeared as well. Senka was going to follow when she heard Ujarak say, “Stay. We need to chat.”
Senka was shocked. Ujarak had never spoken to her before. His voice was gruff and cracked, as he rarely used it. “Yah, for sure Ujarak. What’s up?” she signed.
“You need to tell me what happened with Jules,” he said. She could tell that, though he didn’t like speaking, he wouldn’t let her leave.
She shook her head, “That’s between me and Jules,” she signed.
“No,” he said, “You need to tell me.”
She sighed and went and sat by the pool. Ujarak joined her and looked at her with his strong eyes, “He betrayed us,” she signed. He could tell she was holding back tears. He needed to do this fast.
“How?”
“He was gone that night. I woke up and thought he had been taken, so I followed him,” she was signing quickly now, desperate to get the story out. Ujarak looked at her with steady eyes. “I found him chatting with a Sun God. He exchanged something for a bag of Kritz. I thought he was selling our position. I didn’t kill him, though I wanted to. I just let him go.”