by Jeff Gunzel
Jade let out a forced laugh as she threw her head back. “To be the best,” she repeated. “Well, I must say their methods were a bit...unorthodox,” she said as she spread her hands out wide. “You see, it was a trial by pain. They seemed to believe the more I suffered, the better a killer I would become.”
Ilirra covered her mouth with both hands, trying to stop the rising sobs before they started. She failed.
“But I suppose it was for the best. After all,” Jade moved close enough to Ilirra to whisper in her ear, “I am a killer.”
Ilirra burst into sobs as she covered her face with her hands. Tipping over on the bed, she continued to look at Jade sideways through open fingers. Her whole body jolted over and over with uncontrollable crying before she ended up rolling onto the floor.
Jade walked over to the door, turning her head only slightly to look back over her shoulder as she untied the string in the front of her black robe. “My parents never even tried to find me, never cared what was happening to me. No matter, I suppose. The methods used to make me into what they wanted seem to have worked.” She let the back of her robe spill down to her waist.
Ilirra screamed at the horrifying sight. Deep scars crisscrossed her daughter’s entire back.
Jade slowly pulled her robe back up and turned to face the Queen. Her eyes were dry and calm, emotionless. “This so-called higher purpose demanded a killer. Well, now it has one.” She left the room, leaving Ilirra crumpled on the floor, her face twisted in anguish as tears of agony ran down her cheeks.
I deserve to die.
Chapter 12
The heavy, windblown rain came down in sheets as Jacob gazed over the grassy hill. He had stopped only for a moment to get his bearings before continuing on through the elements. Green lightning flashed across the blackened sky as he squinted hard while holding one open hand against the side of his face to help shield nature’s onslaught.
His once spiky hair now lay matted to his head and pushed to the side, partly from wiping his forehead to remove the constant rain, but mostly from the driving wind blowing from east to west.
Marlow galloped her white horse up beside him, wearing a dark-brown, hooded cloak, with black leather boots that rode up to her knee. Two high-quality short-swords resting in black leather sheaths crossed her back. Long blonde bangs lay matted on her face temporarily before she gave a little shake, revealing bright green eyes, focused and determined. She turned towards Jacob while covering the side of her head with a gloved hand, trying to block the heavy rain that seemed to be moving sideways. “I’m not so sure about this. How did I ever let you talk me into this?”
“The choice was yours,” he said while squinting into the rain. “You fight for a cause. Fight for something bigger than you, me, or even the Queen herself.” He paused a moment just to flash her an amused smile. “Or you could have waited in your village and simply fought for your own life when the time came.” He turned his gaze back to the path. “It really wouldn’t have been all that long of a wait, you know.” A tight grin crossed her face. He never noticed; his eyes swept the dirt road straight ahead. “We’re only a mile away. Are you ready?”
The coy smile never left her face as she stared at him a moment longer, then replied, “I don’t know, let’s see.” She turned her horse clear around. Then, over the sounds of the storm, she shouted in a strong, clear voice, “Are we ready, men?”
The cool night air suddenly became full with hoots and shouting as over one hundred and fifty voices echoed off the nearby trees. Swords pumped in the air as toothless mouths called out for blood. Scarred faces with eye patches and headbands shrieked out battle cries into the night, making sure the world was aware of their arrival.
Jacob began to ride before the cries for death even ended. Shortly after his departure, the clopping of hooves thumping the ground could be heard close behind him. He couldn’t help but think these men had fought hard just for their survival. Getting by on a day-to-day basis sometimes meant taking a life. Now they had a real calling, a purpose higher than anything they ever could have dreamed of. What sort of dormant fighting spirit would present itself under these circumstances? Even the elite soldiers of Taron, although painfully trained, had never known real suffering.
Each one of these men is worth four of the queen’s soldiers.
* * *
The large group of mysterious figures rode slowly up to the front gate. Although each was mounted high upon a beautiful beast, it was still easy to see that a good many of the shadowed humanoids were around seven feet tall. Long, tan cloaks with low, drooping hoods covered their faces as the strong scent of spices lingered in the air around them.
The tall, stocky, blond soldier with heavy green eyes looked them up and down, trying to peer under the long, droopy hoods. Around forty of these freaks of nature stood before him. He did his best to steel himself. In a shaky voice, he muttered, “I know who all of you are.” He didn’t really, but who else could they be? Perrymen was one of the queen’s most trusted guards. He was given explicit instructions to escort these very special guests to the palace when they arrived and to ask no questions or do anything that would draw too much attention.
The tall figures remained still as statues as the heavy rain pelted their thick hoods. It was all the soldier could do not to turn and flee from the awesome sight. Finally, one of the figures slowly trotted forward and leaned towards him without ever dismounting. Lightning flashed as Shantis pulled back her hood, revealing thin, long, white hair and animalistic yellow eyes. It took every bit of control for Perrymen not to run screaming into the night. At best, he was simply unable to move as swirling emotions gripped him.
The lightning flashed again as the cryton grinned wickedly then spoke in that slow, hissing drawl, “Greetingsss, human. We’ve come to ssspeak with your queen, Ilirra Marosssia.”
Somehow, finally hearing the creatures speak gave the guard new confidence. They were real, and something about that fact made the surreal dream become genuine. He swallowed hard, yet tried to appear as confident as possible. “All of you, follow me,” he said as he spun around and began marching down the empty street. Anyone would have been in awe of the supernatural sight parading through Taron—that is, if everyone were not hiding in their homes. In sets of two, the mystic parade clopped down the middle of the street, through the rainy storm.
* * *
Morcel lay on his bed with a terrified look on his face. Addel loomed over him as she moved her hands back and forth over his huge body. “You’re being a baby,” she spat out as she continued her smooth, deliberate movements, occasionally moaning something incoherent.
“No I’m not,” he protested in a high, cracking voice while his eyes remained wide with suspicion. The man had seen magic performed many times before and was not necessarily distrustful of it, but it had never been used on him. That he didn’t like.
For now, all she was doing was probing his many wounds. Even though they were now stitched, the man was completely covered with gashes. After making a few more sweeps with extended hands only inches from his body, she jerked away as if he had suddenly become hot. She then hovered over his face from an upside-down angle. “How are you still alive?” she asked in a breathless voice. “I’ve never seen this much damage done to anyone…anyone still breathing, that is. And you’re walking around!”
He chuckled a bit, then turned his head to the side to release a few coughs. “I’m not that easy to kill.”
“No, I should say not,” she said with one eyebrow raised. “Let’s hope you are easier to fix than you are to kill.” With that, he jerked up a bit as the thought of being touched by magic chilled him once more. A quick open palm to the forehead dropped him back down with surprising ease before she mumbled under her breath, “Baby.”
He held his breath as she began to chant her incoherent mumblings once more. Her eyes took on an eerie bluish glow as she raised her hands into the air.
Morcel just stared helplessly from his hor
izontal position as the inevitable started to take place. By the gods, I wish I was back in the games.
* * *
Ilirra kneeled on the floor beside her enormous bed covered with multiple thick red blankets and goose-feather pillows. She made sure the red curtains over her large, white, frosted-glass window were closed so no one could even make out the shape of her down on her knees.
With teary eyes and her forehead resting lightly on clasped hands, she prayed for strength: Strength to help lead the people of Taron through the most difficult challenge any had seen in their lifetime—the very souls who now held wavering confidence in their queen. She prayed for strength to continue wearing her false mask of security and confidence when all she wanted to do was crawl under her bed and hide from the world.
The one thing she didn’t ask for was forgiveness—forgiveness for letting her only daughter be taken away from her. She had had little choice in the matter, but that meant nothing in her moment of weakness. There was no forgiveness for allowing Jade to suffer the way she did. If she could, she would take all of Jade’s pain and bring it onto herself. No, she didn’t want forgiveness. Ilirra accepted the guilt, the pain. She shoved it deep into her heart...deserved it...relished it.
A knock came at the door, followed almost immediately by Azek’s soft voice. “My lady. We are meeting in the war room. Berkeni will be giving us a final report.”
Ilirra rose from the floor while trying to wipe her eyes dry with the back of her hand. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be there in one minute,” she said, keeping her voice firm and trying not to sniffle.
There was a slight pause before the man continued. His voice was a little shaky, which sounded so strange coming from the confident man. “We… We have not been abandoned, my lady. Aid has arrived in many forms.”
“Are you referring to... Are you actually saying—”
“Almost all of the guest rooms are full. But please, first things first. You are needed in the war room.”
She could hear his boots clomp away down the hall. Ilirra stood there and pondered the possibility for a moment. Could it really be the... Another light knock came at the door. Unable to hide the frustration in her voice, she repeated, “I told you I would be right th—”
The door slowly opened as Jade’s face peeked in sideways. Her eyes were red and puffy, clearly from crying for quite some time. Her broken, stammering voice matched her eyes perfectly. “I-I just wanted...I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Not another word, child,” Ilirra called as she raced towards Jade, gripping her tightly. “Not another word,” she whispered in the girl’s ear as she repeated herself. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. You’ve done nothing wrong.” Ilirra wanted to begin sobbing all over again, but she couldn’t. Not now. It would take all her willpower, but she was the queen. She must show strength. When all of this is over, I’m going to cry for weeks!
* * *
Eric was not present for the war room meeting. He was still feeling woozy after Dragot had penetrated his mind, but Berkeni deemed him physically fit and had decided rest was what he needed most, at least for now.
The room was deathly quiet. Besides the obvious tension of impending war, the fact that Shantis sat only a few feet away was a little difficult to ignore for anyone who had never seen a cryton.
Leaning against the wooden table was her golden bow, with a double string and ornate jewels of red and green encrusted throughout the upper and lower limbs. But as beautiful and eye-catching as it was, the razor-sharp blades sunk into the top and bottom of the limbs added to the guarantee that this bow was as deadly as it was beautiful.
There were even two more dagger-like blades protruding straight out from the top and bottom portions of the handle. Covered with blades, this special bow was fully equipped to be used as a melee weapon if anyone got too close, but after seeing its wielder’s archery skills, that just didn’t seem very likely.
Jacob was the only person here who appeared to be completely relaxed. Leaning back in the chair with his fingers locked behind his head and feet up on the table, one would think he was at his mother’s house. He was still feeling rather proud for bringing a virtual army to aid their cause, so he was even more cocky than usual. His companions were part of the reason the guest rooms were now completely full. The mercenaries were separated from the crytons, of course. They certainly weren’t ready to see that particular sight.
He was also the only one sitting next to Shantis. Azek and Berkeni stayed clear on the other side of the table. They stared at her, not saying a word, as if she was the most dangerous thing in the world. Of course, this accusation wasn’t that far off.
Shantis knew her presence was making everyone uncomfortable, which in turn made her feel uncomfortable, so she kept her yellow eyes low to the table and crossed her arms defensively. She looked a bit like a pouting child.
Of course, Jacob would have none of it. He kept on teasing her the same as he always did, punching her in the shoulder several times and flicking her hair until her pouting face turned into an ear-to-ear smile. For one, he really wanted to put her at ease. This was certainly one of his gifts. But the other reason was even more important: Azek and Berkeni—mostly Azek—needed to see she was not some monster. She was a friend whom Jacob trusted, a good friend who had answered the call when so many others didn’t.
The riders sent to Athsmin and Denark had come back empty-handed. Both cities declared it was none of their business, and they refused to get involved. Of course, this was a crushing blow. Taron was truly alone now. Yet the crytons answered the call when other humans wouldn’t. Yes, Shantis was practically family, and Jacob wanted her and everyone else to be very clear on that fact.
Everyone turned as the door opened and Ilirra and Jade marched in. The slight red puffiness around both their eyes was very telling. Each of their reactions was quite different when they saw Shantis sitting there while Jacob’s relentless tormenting continued.
Ilirra’s eyes seemed to double in size as she saw the miracle she had only heard about until now was clearly seated just a few feet away from her, but Jade ran up behind Shantis before she could even stand, throwing her arms around her neck and rocking back and forth. Jade whispered in the cryton’s ear, “Thank you. Thank you for coming.”
Shantis reached around and held the back of Jade’s head as she rolled side to side with her. “I told you I would come, and I’m hardly alone.”
Suddenly, Azek felt foolish. It was clear everyone trusted the priestess as a dear friend, and here he was, nearly afraid of her just because she looked different. I am a fool!
Ilirra glided up to the cryton priestess in all her queenly grace. “I wish we could have met under less desperate circumstances. It is an honor to finally meet you, Shantis Sondere, High Priestess of the crytons.” Ilirra stepped back and bent her knees low as she said, “Taron is in your debt.”
Shantis slid from her chair and rose slowly, her yellow eyes now the size of plates. The high respect shown by the queen nearly sent her into shock. She returned the bow and said, “The pleasssure isss mine, Ilirra Marosssssia, Queen of Taron.”
Berkeni made a small gesture of his hand before standing up. He didn’t really want to interrupt such a truly historic moment, but at the same time, the briefing on the latest developments could wait no longer.
“Alright everyone,” he said while looking more at his pearl than at any person in particular. “Let me start by saying ‘thank you’ to our honored guest.” He gestured towards Shantis, who actually looked quite shy all of a sudden as she smiled and lowered her head. “May our newfound allegiance last a lifetime. Forgive my bluntness, but I must now inform everyone of exactly where we stand.” A dark look flooded over his face. He inhaled deeply before raising his head and taking the time to look each person in the eye. “The Dronin army will be here within five or six hours.” Even though the news was expected, his look of gloom was quickly shared by all, as if it were now real for the first tim
e.
“You are completely sure of this?” said the Queen, with no emotion on her face or in her voice.
“Quite sure, I’m afraid. Of course, it will be closer to morning than night, and I doubt they will attack. They will at least set camp outside the walls and work out some sort of strategy.”
“Very well then,” said Ilirra. “I want everyone to return to their quarters. Please try and get some rest. We have known for some time that this was coming. Don’t let it haunt your thoughts now. Everyone dismissed.” She glided over to Shantis one last time as everyone began leaving the room. While Shantis was still seated, Ilirra said, “Thank you again. Eric, Jade, and Jacob all trust and speak highly of you. You are here when others dare not help. This will never be forgotten.” Before Shantis could say anything, Ilirra bent forward and kissed her forehead, then turned to leave.
Jacob stood up behind Shantis and rubbed her shoulders, then leaned over her side and said, “That’s some pretty high praise from a queen.” He gave her one last friendly shake before he, too, left the room.
Even while the cryton wiped her eye with the back of her hand, Azek had already started moving towards her. “Please forgive an old fool who is stuck in his ways. It is an honor to share the field of battle with one as capable as you.” He took her by the hand, turned it over and planted a small kiss.
The cryton’s bright yellow eyes followed him as he also left the room. Emotion swelled up in Shantis. She was going to need more than one swipe of the back of her hand to dry her eyes this time.
* * *
Ilirra floated gracefully down the hall with her head high and level. She tried to maintain the illusion of confidence as best as she could in case there were wandering eyes. She was always to be the queen, whether eating, walking, or playing a commoner’s game of cards. That aura of leadership must be maintained, no matter how far away or dark her thoughts were at the time.