The Caged Kingdom

by M A Price

  She was by far the bravest woman he had ever met.

  The bravest and the most doomed.

  “If I get out of here Jax, I’m going to make him come away with me. A holiday in The Black Lands would be good after this right?”

  “Aren’t they refusing all visitors, claiming their own sovereignty and threatening to kill intruders on sight?”

  “I never said it would be easy.”

  Jax had the impression Becca Youchnore had never done easy and he admired her the more for it.

  Twenty-Seven - Katanya

  Ivloch had told her his rudimentary plan to deal with the serum crisis.

  She knew he hadn’t mentioned it to Camrin or anyone else yet, and she still didn’t know if she agreed with it or not. It would be risky for everyone and there had to be another way. A less dangerous first step...

  Her mind kept going back to it as she walked the path through camp with Mara. They’d been gone for most of the day. Their training had gone well, Mara was improving quicker than anyone Katanya had ever seen. The Mark on her wrist had certainly amplified her power, it was destined to make her a weapon after all, but Mara’s natural instincts were good.

  The training and life here seemed to be suiting the girl. Her skin had a healthier glow than when Katanya had first met her, her hair more of a shine. She only hoped it would stay that way, with what was to come.

  “You did good today lady.” If praise was due, Mara deserved to hear it.

  “Pretty lucky to have a decent teacher, aren’t I?”

  “More like the best, I’ll have you know.” They both laughed.

  She hated how much she liked Mara. So much for the no friends and not caring mentality. The old Katanya would be proud and the new one was already admitting defeat.

  She wanted to say more to Mara, to say thank you for being there recently, for helping her, but Yenna running towards them caused a distraction. She wasn’t in her armour, just a simple brown robe but she looked stricken.

  “Kat, they’ve been looking for you. You have to come quickly.” Yenna was breathless and panicked, but she was already moving to run back towards the centre of the camp.

  Katanya looked quickly to Mara, who seemed as confused as she was and then raced after Yenna.

  She saw Ivloch first, he was outside his pavilion, screaming for his plate armour. Camrin was next to him, clearly issuing orders to a team of soldiers surrounding them, but it was who Idyn was with that really drew her attention.

  Idyn was crouched down next to a man kneeling on the floor.

  A dark-skinned man with long brown hair.

  Marius Torin raised his head as she reached him. He looked rumpled, like he’d been traveling at great speed, despair replacing his usually hard demeanour.

  “What’s happened?” she pleaded, joining Idyn by his side.

  “Some of the prisoners that escaped Tonkara, they’ve got them. My brother is there. One of them is pregnant. They’re not even taking them to the Torlung Facility. They’re going to execute them in Kara’s square.”

  Katanya cursed loudly and repeatedly.

  “Why wouldn’t they take them to the other Facility? Surely they need every User they can get?” Mara implored from behind her.

  “They have the serum now. They can make anyone a User. Setting an example to anyone who might dare oppose them…that’s more important and it stops us from gaining support.” Katanya cursed again. She knew what she said was the truth, her power and her gut confirmed it. “It sends a message to us too. That we can’t truly save anyone.”

  She stood up and faced Ivloch. His armour was fully on and it made him look even bigger than usual.

  “We’re going after them, aren’t we?” Katanya inquired, but she already knew the answer.

  “Gather a team. We leave in an hour. We might not be able to save everyone, but we’re gonna give this one a damn good shot.” Ivloch walked towards them and placed his giant hand on Marius’ shoulder.

  Ivloch loved this man, she could tell from the look of pure concern on his face. “Rest up here Marius, then go home and hold your wife. We’ll do what we can for your brother, and I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”

  Ivloch moved to steer away, towards the stables, but he stopped and turned back to the man still on the floor. The man who had helped Katanya find him again.

  “It’s good to see you, old friend. Next time we do it in better circumstances?”

  Marius didn’t answer. He was never a man for promises he might not be able to keep. Katanya didn’t think Ivloch had ever expected him to.

  She hugged Marius tight and told him to send her love to Tabyka and the boys, then she grabbed Mara and pulled her towards the armoury tent.

  “You’re coming with us Lars. It’s time we see if I really am a good teacher.”

  She saw Mara gulp down air but didn’t let herself react.

  There was no way any of them could avoid the fighting anymore.

  Twenty-Eight - Camrin

  They armoured up and left within an hour. Marius saw them off, wanting to come with them but Ivloch refused.

  “You’re out of practice soldier, and you have someone to go home to. Go home to her.” Camrin had heard the pain in his voice as he spoke and knew he had been thinking of Becca.

  Idyn sidled up to him as they rode. They hadn’t spoken since his outburst at Mara.

  “A battle I wasn’t expecting always makes me more nervous than the ones I know are coming.” Idyn sighed, the twin swords at his back glinted in the sunlight.

  “I think we’ve all known battles were coming for a while man.”

  “I suppose, but I prefer to know on which moons I might die.”

  “Guess it could be every day and you’ll never go wrong.”

  Camrin wanted to say more, to apologise but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He knew he wasn’t listening to his own advice.

  “If either of us meet our maker today, I don’t want it to be on these terms Cam.”

  “Can’t say I’d be fond either.” He willed himself to just say sorry.

  “I love you Cam. You’re my brother and my best friend. I hope you know that.”

  “Same to you. Always.” He reached out his hand and clutched Idyn’s. “In this life or any ruddy one after.”

  Idyn grinned at him and then fell back, to Mara he presumed, but it didn’t bother him as much as it usually did. This would be Mara’s first fight and everyone needed someone before a battle; if there was anyone.

  The nights before a fight had always been the times when him and Elex had clung to one another the most.

  “Proud of you brother,” Katanya purred sliding up next to him on Ballaca. He shook his head in response and replied with an obscene gesture. She cackled and moved back towards Ivloch.

  This was to be the first battle he would travel to alone. Truly alone.

  He had walked with Idyn into the battle at the Tonkara Facility and had expected to walk out of it hand in hand with Elex.

  She’d had other plans; but perhaps he could make her proud in the field today.

  He swallowed hard and smiled up at the sun. They had a long ride ahead if they were going to get there in time. The prisoners were being held near the Spykelands before their transfer to Tonkara. They had one moon to get there, save them, and run before the legion of Kings Men and perhaps worse, would come searching for vengeance.

  It would be a long night; but long nights could lead to bright mornings.

  Twenty-Nine - Mara

  Being in a real-life battle was not how Mara Lars had ever imagined it.

  People didn't die like they did in the stories.

  In stories the villain falls. Often, they deserve it, perhaps they put up a fight before they die, and usually it’s the hero that gets to deal the killing blow. A hero that at best, will only take a few seconds to question the rightness of their killing strike, but mostly feel it was necessary and just.

  The stories don’t tell
you about the look on a man’s face as he realises his life blood is draining from him.

  They don’t tell you that killing a person is a lot harder than it looks; that perhaps one strike or an axe in the gut won’t actually do it. Often, they will survive. Meaning you will either have to finish the job or see the person you named your enemy reduced to being just another human being. A human being now begging you for mercy. You might even get to hear about the family they are leaving behind, the wife whose tears you are the cause of or the child who won’t ever sit on their father’s lap again.

  The stories don’t mention the frenzy.

  They don’t tell you that you’ll hack and kick and fly around with your weapon, and half the time you won’t know if you’re hitting friend or foe.

  You won’t get a chance to see if the people you love are still fighting because you’re too busy trying to stay alive yourself. Sometimes you don’t even get time to focus on that and it comes as an absolute shock when you do parry that weapon or dodge that arrow head.

  And nobody ever discusses the smell.

  The stench of death and blood that reaches your very soul; the one you won’t be able to wash off later, for moons or perhaps at all. The shit and the piss that starts to pool so you can’t tell if it’s mud or what the fallen, friend or foe, has left behind.

  The screams are worse.

  They’re inhuman. The agonising wail of the damned. Not a sound any creature should make.

  When someone realises they are dying they have nothing left to lose; the frustrations they’ve held onto all their moons will pour out. The goodbyes that they will never get to say, the sons they will never father, and the lovers they will never touch again.

  They’ll scream and they’ll shout, and the sound will haunt you until you are on your own death bed, if you are lucky enough to have one. All the echoes of the men and women that you watched die in vain.

  Sometimes it will be you that screams. For the ones you love. Just to stay alive or maybe even because you somehow believe it will help drive the point of your weapon to its desired target.

  We all have our different reasons to scream; the only difference is some are lucky to live long enough to try and right them.

  As Mara raised her sword and plunged it into the soldier barrelling towards her, she unleashed a cry of triumph.

  She had struck first but only just; the soldier coming at her with an axe only moments after had been somewhat luckier, taking a chunk out of her arm before Idyn had appeared with his blade and downed him.

  Blood was still trickling down her sleeve as she tried to move forward.

  Most of the fighting was over now, that she knew, and despite their losses, they seemed to be winning.

  Katanya guarded the prisoners, her magic flying out to fry anyone that dared go near them. Camrin and Ivloch had fought impressively fast, back to back, each taking on three soldiers a piece but never faltering. She could hardly imagine being that in sync with someone or that good at…fighting.

  Idyn was bleeding but stable as he finished off another soldier, this one resilient and refusing to give up. She made herself look away as Idyn's blades did their duty.

  Jengen, Fendir and Lorren struggled with the final two who remained alive. Their strength was diminishing Fendir looked older and Jengen's strikes were fewer. Lorren only seemed determined to protect the man he loved.

  It was the ground that seemed to truly show the cost of the battle that had occurred. Just how many had died and would never go home. Never see another moon turn or follow another order; losses for both sides.

  Arms were flung across the now blood-soaked earth, she had no idea where they had come from. A man with his stomach half hanging out was crying, whispering a prayer to a god that she couldn’t make out. Three of their own men had died together, one seeming to attempt to cover the other but to no avail. A woman in the King’s colours lay on the floor, her leg hacked off and face down in a puddle of what Mara hoped had been rain.

  Death was not beautiful or romantic; it was messy and horribly lonely.

  She stumbled slightly, her eyes searching for Idyn, not taking notice of the body before her. It was the cough she recognised, the gravelly voice she had come to know. Yenna. She bent down, careful of her own injured arm to see her friend’s wounds. Her head was bleeding, and there was hole in her torso armour. Lifeblood seeping out from a sword wound Mara decided.

  She was conscious and that was something.

  “Yenna, are you…” her words came out in a jumble, she was more out of breath than she realised.

  “I’m not dead. I’ll be fine” she whimpered, using her arm to rip material from her own breeches. Mara helped her and pulled some of the green material from her cloak. She had guessed what Yenna planned and put the material on her stomach wound, using Yenna’s hand to hold it tight.

  “Help them, I’ll be fine. I have things to get home to, too many plans to die here in this bloody field.”

  “I’m holding you to that!” Mara attempted to smile and walked towards the final few ongoing fights, her sword and power primed.

  This was a battle. This was part of a war, just like she was now.

  Thirty - Jaxon

  He was on duty at the entrance to the dungeon with Jala when they were summoned.

  Xave brought two of his men with him to deliver the news.

  “The King demands to see you in the throne room. He has some excellent news to share with us all.” The smile on his broad face did nothing to make Jax feel comfortable. Jala fell into line next to him and Xave didn’t say she couldn’t accompany him. That felt like a problem in itself; she could barely contain her rage normally, let alone in front of Jefferson and Xave or worse.

  They walked in silence and the guards in front of the throne room, both he realised with a hideous start, were claimed Unforgiven. Men he had worked with before now taken and replaced with these creatures. They leered at him and Jala as they reluctantly parted and hoisted the doors open. He tried not to let any revulsion show as he forced himself to pass.

  Jefferson was on his throne. The harsh sunlight coming through the ancient King Herikk’s skylight, made him look older than his years. The tunic had been replaced by an extravagant suit of red brocade. It seemed far more in character.

  The Queen was nowhere to be seen, but the thing that was now Nrenna stood beside him. Xave took his place on the other side. Reyn had also been summoned, he was staring at the guards which covered each side of the room. All of them Unforgiven. Jaxon couldn’t help but wonder who these people had been before they were claimed; before an entity that should have been long dead stole their bodies.

  Had they gone willingly? Could they die now? By sword or the power of a User? Or would their conscience just go back, ready to take another host whenever it had the chance?

  Would Becca know? He made a note to ask her.

  It was Jala’s gulp which brought him back to the moment. It was a gulp of fear, her usual brassy attitude gone.

  “I’m glad you could join us Captain,” Jefferson declared, a passive tone to his voice as if Jaxon had happily accepted an invitation to share mead or supper. “Your colleague also, I don’t think I know her name?”

  All eyes in the room fell on Jala, even Reyn’s.

  “This is…”

  “Come now Rowdedge, does she have no tongue?” Xave cut in, his eyes full of sadistic glee.

  “I’m Officer Jala Ellery Your Majesty.” Jaxon looked at her then, at her long silver hair, at her slightly too big uniform. She had never looked so young, too young for all of this. He didn’t let the fact she was only a couple of years younger than him register.

  “How very lovely to meet you Jala, we’ll have to remember you!” The words came out of Nrenna’s mouth, but it wasn’t her voice that delivered them, a new deeper quality to it. Her upright manner so unlike what the real girl’s had been. She had changed since he last saw her, the cheeks were thinner, the hair a lighter shade of bro
wn and considerably longer.

  He should never have let Jala come here with him. He had to stop making so many stupid mistakes; putting more people at risk.

  “Yes, yes we must. We should get down to business now though, I think?” Jefferson continued looking between the two at his side for approval.

  “Yes, yes we should. Do give them the good news,” Nrenna cackled. She was enjoying this. The worry on both his and Reyn’s faces so evident. The fear on Jala’s. The memory of her licking his blood returned and he felt his stomach flip. The power there rippled with disgust.

  “I hear you’ve been doing an excellent job with your unit guarding our prized prisoner, something I’m sure you will receive a special commendation for, but your duties are to change from tomorrow.”

  Jaxon tried to keep his face neutral, his worst fears playing out like an old Earth movie in his mind.

  “May I ask why Your Majesty?”

  “You may ask, but do not presume to question our judgement Captain. Becca Youchnore is to be executed at dawn of tomorrows moon. She has served her purpose and has brought us no closer to what we need. It’s time we took further action to bring her allies to heel.”

  “You can’t do this Father. She could still hold valuable information about the resistance, she’s a much better bargaining chip than a corpse. It makes no sense!” Reyn shouted, his fury painted in every syllable. He gravitated towards the dais, with steely determination.

  Jaxon wanted to pull him back, but his legs wouldn’t move.

  Reyn didn’t get a chance to get any closer as four of the guards descended from the walls onto him. He tried to shrug them off, to continue to reason with his father but they were The Unforgiven. You couldn’t win against them.

  They wrestled him to the floor, his hands held behind his back. A state you never expected to see a prince in. Jaxon was certain he saw one of the guards unnecessarily kick Reyn in the ribs, a grim smile across his alien face.