by Jeff Gunzel
“Did you come to my room just to torment me?” Addel blurted out, nearly on the verge of tears. She was perfectly aware of the situation and didn’t need such a descriptive reminder.
“I’ll be honest and get right to the point. I’ve come here with intent of putting you in harm’s way,” he said, his voice suddenly hard as stone. “Not for me personally, but for the good of Taron. I have spent days thinking this over, trying to come up with another way, but there is none that I can see! I need you to sneak out of the city and find Shantis and her camp of rebel crytons.”
“You know I would be executed for such an act,” Addel replied, her voice soft, refusing to meet his eyes.
“If you are caught, then yes,” his reply was even softer than hers. “Believe me, I would go myself if I could. But my absence would be noticed almost immediately. I would never ask this of you unless the city was in grave need.”
“An what does the city need that a broken old woman like me could possibly provide?”
Berkeni sighed, then stepped forward and embraced Addel. He slowly rubbed her back, then moved his hands gently to her shoulders. He waited a moment, making sure she looked him in the eye. “I need you to find the rebels and join with them. Together, you can bring the city what it needs now more than ever. You must return with the true queen of Taron.” Stunned, Addel rose from her seat, her mouth opening to speak but no words came forth.
“Yes,” he said, answering her unasked question. “You must return with the daughter of Ilirra Marosia. Jade...is Ilirra’s heir and the rightful queen of Taron.
Chapter 4
Addel took a step back, glaring at Berkeni as if he were a stranger.
“Addel, I need you to listen to me,” he said, taking a cautious step forward.
“How long have you known? Why did you keep this from me?” she asked accusingly. Berkeni sighed, then spun about and threw himself on her cot. Slouching forward with his face in his hands, he suddenly appeared to be a very old man.
“Do you think it’s been easy having such a secret weigh me down for all these years?” he groaned, his voice rich with pain and guilt. “I assure you I had no choice in the matter. It was imperative that her true identity remain a secret. If word of her bloodline ever got out she could never be safe. She would be hunted down like a dog.”
“Why was she not provided sanctuary by the kingdom?” Addel screeched in anger. “Her life has been placed in jeopardy countless times, and you just stood by and watched! Why was the future queen of Taron treated in such a manner? Why was she not—” The look in Berkeni’s eyes revealed more than she wanted to know.
“Her job...her destiny...was to protect the Gate Keeper at all costs,” he said softly. “All other matters paled in comparison. Her happiness, and even her freedom were no longer priority.”
“She doesn’t know, does she?” Addel asked quietly. Berkeni’s silence was answer enough. “By the gods, that poor girl,” she gasped, slumping forward as if all the air had seeped from her body. “Is there anyone else who knows?”
“There is one other,” he replied solemnly.
“The Gate Keeper,” she stated firmly, nodding her head.
“No, not even he is aware of her royal blood,” he corrected, prompting her to look up with modest surprise. “The only other man alive who knows of her identity is the same man who has been sentenced to die in the arena. The general of the Taron army. He is our friend, but more importantly,” Berkeni sighed loudly, “he is Jade’s father.”
Addel’s face held all the expression of a stone. At this point it was impossible to shock her any further. “Sooner or later he will die in that arena,” she said. “Filista will make sure of it.”
“Although possibly rivaled by Morcel, I’ve never met a man who is harder to kill,” he was quick to add. “But yes, sooner or later that witch of a woman will arrange an event that even he cannot possibly survive.” He hesitated. “Now, do you see why I must ask this of you? I wish there were another way,” he dropped down to one knee and took her by the hand, “but we’ve run out of options. The city needs you. I...need you.”
* * *
The cryton guards stood before the front gate, their yellow eyes scanning the wandering humans suspiciously. None were allowed to enter or exit the city without Filista’s knowledge or consent. In short, the entire city was on lockdown.
The only exception to this law were the steady trickle of crytons who seemed to show up on a daily basis, anywhere from five to ten making their way to the city gates each morning. They were allowed access to the city, but needed to report themselves to Filista immediately. After swearing allegiance to her, only then were they considered to be part of the new regime.
A broken-down old man, riding an even mangier-looking gray horse, emerged from the crowd and began clopping towards the gate. His long, frizzy gray hair flared out wildly, and his tangled beard and mustache looked as if they hadn’t been touched by a comb in years.
“Halt,” said the cryton soldier, raising his hand while gripping his spear in the other. His accent was thick, but at least he spoke some degree of common. “Nobody come. Nobody leave. You know rule. Turn, go back.” The second cryton soldier came over to investigate this stubborn old man. Perhaps he was senile and simply didn’t know where he was.
“You think I would purposely seek to leave the safety of the city walls?” said the old man in a throaty, hoarse voice.
“No. You go back the way you come,” said the cryton, his partner looking on in confusion. It was obvious he didn’t speak a word of common. “Go back, or Filista hang you from tree.”
“Gladly,” the old man grumbled, tugging at his horse’s reins, forcing the broken animal to slowly turn back. “It was your beloved queen who gave me this wretched task in the first place. I have no problem telling her that her own guardsmen turned me back at the gate.”
“Stop,” said the soldier. “What you talk? She give you no task.”
“I don’t mind. It’s better for me if I stay here,” he groaned, a lazy clouded eye rolling back towards them. “You two can deal with her, and I’ll just go back to my home where it’s safe. But I suppose it’s only fair that I present the token she gave me. She said you would recognize it and allow me passage.”
The old man reached deep into his pouch, then presented a closed fist clutching something they couldn’t yet see. The two stepped closer to get a better look, but when he opened his hand, it appeared to be empty.
“Have nothing! What trick is—” The old man blew into his palm, sending a cloud of shiny dust into their faces. They flinched, rubbing their eyes and swinging about blindly. But after a second or two they stopped and stood still, expressions blank as if in a trance-like state. They stared at the old man, not in anger or even confusion. They just appeared sleepy-eyed and suddenly very uninterested in him.
“You will allow me passage,” he said, his once raspy voice much stronger now. “And once I am gone from sight, neither of you will remember seeing or talking to me.” Together they nodded as one, then sidestepped the already open gate. The old man glanced around to see how many had witnessed what he had done.
Unfortunately, many eyes had stopped to stare. Women with their children clung around their legs, and men carrying bundles looked on in wonderment. But the old man showed little concern for the unexpected company. He simply brought a hushing finger up to his lips, then grinned back at them. Nods of secrecy and warm smiles were quickly returned.
“No matter what, don’t ever lose faith,” he said to them. “The day we lose hope is the day we all perish as a species. I for one am not quite ready for that future.” With that, he clopped off through the gate, confident no one would speak of what they saw. The old horse limped out into the field before breaking into a full gallop, suddenly showing impossible power and speed.
The horse as well as its rider began to glow with a soft light. Bits began to fall away from the streaking image, like thousands of white feathers leav
ing a swirling trail funneling behind them. Back to true form, Addel now rode atop her large sleek horse, streaking towards the nearby forest.
Uttering a single word, flames erupted from the horse’s hooves, doubling their speed and leaving behind a path of charred grass. Moments later the rider and her blazing mount disappeared into the trees, a lingering trail of orange light trailing behind. Then, the afterglow faded away as if they were never there.
* * *
Shantis lay deathly still on her cot, her arms stiff at her sides as her sleepy eyes stared blankly at the top of the tent. She watched the fabric puff upward, then sink back down as it rolled with the gentle breeze from outside. How long had she been staring off at nothing like this? A day? A week? Time seemed to have no significance these days. Why did it matter anyway? She had lost her position as High Priestess, as well as the confidence of her people. If she were to stop breathing at this very moment, nothing would change. Perhaps one less mouth to feed...
“Priestess?” came a whisper as the tent flap parted opened. One of her followers entered holding a makeshift tray with a small portion of colorful berries, and a few strips of jerky on the side. “Please forgive the intrusion, Priestess. It’s just that the others are worried about you.” He scurried over and placed the tray on her lap. “No one can recall the last time you’ve eaten. Please, you must have something.”
She lifted the tray and placed it on the ground beside her. “Save the rations for those who deserve them,” she muttered. “And stop calling me that. I am no longer your priestess.”
“With all due respect, I disagree,” the young man snapped back, an undeniable sharpness in his tone. “And all here will back my statement, Priestess. We still stand at your side just as we have always done.”
“Your faith in me is misplaced,” she sighed, rolling over and showing her back to him. “I’ve been tricked and betrayed like a common fool. Filista has beaten me soundly, and now taken control of the human city. All I could do was watch. No matter what, she’s always one step ahead of me. No wonder so many have followed her.”
“Their apparent loyalty is based on fear, not trust,” he replied. “She dangles the illusion of stability in front of their noses, a false feeling of security they follow blindly like sheep. There is a far bigger picture here and you are at the center of it. The weak and indecisive have left us, yet the strong remain here.”
He turned to go, then stopped just outside the tent flap. “We believe in you. We believe in the Gate Keeper and wish to stand at his side when the darkness comes. Although you may not believe my words, I swear you are not alone, Priestess.”
Alone, she began to think on his words. In truth, she believed she no longer wanted their loyalty, felt that she didn’t deserve their love or admiration, but that wasn’t the point. She had it anyway, and now needed to decide what to do with it. These poor souls are loyal to a fault, yet I lay here and do nothing for them. This band of rebels had singlehandedly rescued her from Filista’s capture. She had watched her most loyal follower fall before her eyes that day, the horrifying image still painfully fresh in her mind.
“Oh, Brinkton,” she whispered, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the cot. “You stupid, stubborn ox. Your life for mine? That was never a fair trade.” She wiped a tear from her eye. Too many have sacrificed for me. Too many lives lost. Their suffering can’t be in vain, and I must do something about it.
She reached down and picked up the tray of food. Very well then. If they still insist on following me then I shall lead them. But they must understand that I intend to put each of them in harm’s way. She took a piece of jerky and bit off a chunk. True, no matter how much I have lost, I am still obligated to aid the Gate Keeper. But in light of what has happened, that task has now become secondary for me. She chewed slowly, a smoldering fire building within her. My first priority is revenge. Before I draw my last breath, I vow to rip out Filista’s throat with my bare hands!
She tossed the tray aside and walked up to the entrance. This would be the first time any had seen her up and around since the daring rescue. How long ago was that? How long had she kept those still loyal to her crawling around, attending her every need as she lay there like an invalid? Too long!
Shantis steeled herself and threw back the tent flaps. Despite her mental fatigue, she wanted to appear strong when they first saw her. Crytons roamed the camp, some carrying wood while others stoked the cooking fire. But once she made her appearance, the world seemed to stop all at once.
Heads turned, wood fell to the ground, but these were not the faces of beaten men. They all wore large grins, their eyes alive with fight and spirit. She was sure at least some of her followers would be angered by her extended hiatus, but once again she had underestimated her people. A mistake I will not make again.
“Priestess,” said one of the women, strolling up and throwing her arms around Shantis. She hesitated at first, then returned the embrace. I don’t deserve such loyalty. “It is so good to see you on your feet.”
“I–I just needed some time,” said Shantis, suddenly feeling emotional and struggling to hide it. “But I’m fine now.” She took a deep breath and steeled her voice. “No, I’m more than fine.”
“And we all knew you would be,” the girl replied, taking a step back. “But still, it is good to see it for ourselves.”
“Priestess,” came another call as a man came running over, his smile wide and genuine. She recognized him immediately. This was the man who had led the rescue team that fateful day. That was the last time she had seen this man. Not once had he come to her tent to check on her. Again, she was grateful to not be bothered or pressured into making decisions when she clearly was not in the right state of mind to do so. Although she didn’t even know his name, there was a certain comfort in seeing him again.
“Priestess,” he repeated, throwing a hand up to her shoulder. “It is so good to see you leave your quarters. Of course, if you needed more time—” he added quickly.
“No, I’m quite alright,” she lied. Sure, she was much better than she had been. But her heart was still heavy with grief. It would take years to truly get past this betrayal, to cope with the lives lost in her name. No, she was far from alright. But her current state of mind would have to do. “But I thank you for allowing me the time I needed.”
He paused a long moment, still smiling but having some difficulty meeting her eyes. “Prieste— Shantis, I am relieved you are feeling better, but I admit I don’t know how much longer I could have kept their spirits up. We are surviving, but for how much longer would simply surviving prove to be enough?”
His shoulders rose with a deep breath. It seemed as if he had been holding this in for a long time. “I tell them each and every day that soon...we shall rise up and take back what is ours. But coming from someone like me, those words are hollow. They seem like nothing but empty promises from a loyal soldier who is willing to follow his High Priestess into fire. Many days have passed since you were last seen, and they no longer wish to hear these things from me. They need to hear them from you.”
Shantis smiled. How had this many still stayed with her? At any time they could have run off and joined Filista in Taron. The city had been taken; offered really, and there was no doubt the extra soldiers would be welcomed. They would have received proper food and warm beds, yet they stayed here. Living off the land like animals, they remained loyal to a leader who had not acted like a leader for a very long time. She felt ashamed at how weak she had been. They deserved so much more.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“I—oh,” he stuttered before looking away, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. “Drend,” he said at length, still having trouble meeting her eyes. Like most soldiers, attention or recognition were not things he sought after. Maintaining the rebels’ morale in the place of their Priestess was his duty, nothing more. He didn’t feel the need to be acknowledged for simply doing his duty.
“Drend,”
she repeated softly. Hearing his priestess whisper his name, he drew in on himself even further, now resembling a shy child. “You remind me of someone, Drend. A man I was very fond of. I see his strength in your eyes.” He looked up as she placed her hand on his cheek. “As long as I live, I will never forget what you’ve done for the clan, and what you’ve done for me. You’ve singlehandedly held these men together in my absence, and I will never be able to repay you.” He stared at Shantis in disbelief, mouth open but unable to speak. She smiled warmly, then gave his cheek a pat before turning to go.
Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed her by the arm, causing her to turn back quickly. Immediately, Drend released his grip and glared at his hand as if it had acted on its own. “I’m sorry! Forgive me, Priestess. It’s just that...” He paused again, his eyes starting to glisten with tears.
“There is nothing to forgive,” she said, returning her full attention to the soldier. “Please, speak freely.”
His hands were trembling. What she had mistaken for deep sadness was clearly burning rage, anger he had been forced to keep bottled up for so long now. All this time he had been forced to wear a mask of calm and serenity, just for the sake of duty, for the sake of his High Priestess. But she was in power once more and he no longer needed to pretend.
“I lost everything,” he said, a calm voice that didn’t match his trembling fists. “When the revolt began, there was chaos. Sides were chosen quickly and decisively. In my heart I know I chose correctly, but it came at a steep price.”
“I understand that,” she replied, her tone warm and concerned.
“Do you? The rebels were severely outnumbered, and staying to fight was simply not an option. Choices had to be made.” He paused a moment, his gaze unblinking as if searching for the right words. “Those of us who chose to follow you were forced to leave our families behind. What choice did we have? We couldn’t drag them out here, forcing them to live like animals for weeks on end.”