by M A Price
“Please escort my son to his rooms. Make sure he doesn’t leave them whilst the day is still light. I think he needs some time to calm down.”
“You can’t be serious Father.”
“I’ve never been more serious Reyn Landress. Perhaps it will help you remember that I am King, and it is I who decides what is best for the kingdom. Not you.”
They marched him from the room, no words spoken, a firm grip on each of his arms. Reyn tried to look back, Not at his father, but at Jaxon.
He wanted to scream, to use any power he had welled up inside himself to charge after Reyn and help him, but he knew there was nothing he could do; nothing that would be wise or achieve anything except get him and Jala executed.
He had to warn Becca; to do something to try and save her. To give her a chance to see her husband and do something good in the world.
“You will have the rest of the day to prepare the prisoner. I’ll send clothes in the morning. We’ll make sure she looks like the criminal she is when she’s presented to the public. I don’t know what your current schedule is, but I would very much appreciate you and perhaps your friend here being the ones to bring Mrs Youchnore to her execution.”
Jaxon could barely hear what the King was saying; he was trying to make a plan; and without Reyn’s help. Reyn would have had a plan.
And the bravery to see it done.
“The execution is to be public Your Highness?” Jala’s tiny voice asked.
“Naturally. We need to show the people we’re working in their best interests. It will be held in Kara’s Square. You may leave now and make your arrangements.”
They retreated quickly, Jaxon’s bow stiffer than usual.
He found somewhere discreet for them to stop; to take a breath, and for Jala to vomit and stop her whole body from violently shaking.
Thirty-One - Mara
Her hair had fallen out of its twine mid-way through the battle and was matted to her face with blood.
It coated her armour and was all over her boots.
There was no escape from the sea of red.
She wasn’t dizzy anymore; that had passed as the fighting stopped, instead she felt disconnected from her body. As if she were watching this person, supposed to be her, walk among the ruins.
Katanya still looked remarkably put together, a cut in her leather armour the only sign she had just been fighting for her life. She stood by the small guard outpost willing her fire to come to her; to burn it to the ground. It would render it useless to whoever the King sent out next. They would have another one set up in a few moons but in the meantime, perhaps a User or two could get through. It was worth the risk.
Camrin, Yenna, Fendir, and Lorren were walking between the dead soldiers. Yenna had been patched up by Camrin and wore her wounds with pride, but she looked weak. Anything that would be useful for Kara’s Guild quickly went into a bag they had another soldier stand and hold. The necessity of it was understandable; they relied on this and the loyalty of sympathisers, but she unexpectedly found it the hardest thing to handle.
These men hadn’t been Unforgiven. They probably all had families somewhere in Brodanna; people who would hate to hear they weren’t coming home. People who loved them.
The Guild would be blamed. The Unforgiven’s return wasn’t something most citizens knew about or wanted to consider.
People would do whatever they could to save themselves from fear or worry. It wasn’t too many Moon Turns ago that she would have done the same.
There’s always going to be someone else to fight the battle; to stand on the firing line. Keep your head down, wait for it to blow over. Pretend to have cared all along.
It was human nature; here. On the Seven Worlds. Even back on Earth; if Earth still existed. Something none of them would ever know. Human nature could have blown it apart, destroyed by its inhabitants. They had certainly been on that path when The Transmitter had saved the Wielders and their supporters; or so the stories told.
She slowly made her legs move towards where Ivloch and Idyn stood talking to the huddled prisoners.
Two of them were Users; the other three were believed to be sympathizers or simply related to someone who had caused Jefferson or The Unforgiven some form of discomfort. The youngest was a boy, only around eight years old, he clung fiercely to a podgy man’s hand. The man himself had lost most of his hair and seemed to have a crooked nose.
He looked far from any form of threat.
The other three consisted of a teenager, a girl with the blondest hair Mara had ever seen, a woman who seemed to be with child, and an older man who she had seen join the skirmish. She wondered who among them had the power. It seemed like such a strange bunch of people to find together.
How could anyone see these people executed and not believe something very wrong was happening in Brodanna? A child and a pregnant woman…
“Ah Mara, there you are.” Ivloch pulled her to the centre of the circle. All eyes fell on her and she felt horribly self-conscious.
Ivloch pointed to the man and the boy. “This is Olin and his son, Richard.” An old Earth name barely used anymore. This was Marius’ brother. Olin, who barely reached the height of her chest, and may have been as round as he was tall, did not seem much use..
She murmured hello. The pregnant woman, Via, was revealed as the other User. One with rare healing abilities. Her hand seemed to stay protectively above the child she carried inside, but she smiled bravely towards Mara.
The others said nothing, the teenager still shaking.
“I’m going to be sending Lorren to get these people safely to a ship in The Spykelands,” Ivloch declared.
Mara instantly knew how dangerous their journey would be. Crossing Death’s sea was considered an impossible task; one nobody had ever been known to return from.
She couldn’t help but glance again at the bulge of Via’s stomach. Would that child even get a chance to be in the world? The selfish thought of how useful a Healer would be to The Guild also floated to her mind. One she dismissed, but not without disappointment in herself.
Their safety was far more important.
Ivloch told them to gather any things they may possibly have and conversed quietly with Lorren, his orders were clear. She watched as Fendir embraced his husband, worry painted across every inch of him. It would be a half Moon Turn at least before Lorren returned…
“You wear the Mark.” It was a voice she didn’t recognise. One that turned out to be Via’s. The prisoners were all staring at her. At her arm. She had moved her sleeve after the battle, she had obviously forgotten to re-cover the Mark that rested there.
It was perfectly displayed on her skin and engraved so deeply that it looked like she had been born with it. Like it belonged.
“You’re Kara’s chosen.” Via again. She said it as a statement. Mara doubted Kara had anything to do with her choosing. Another blonde girl she hadn’t really known after all, had made this decision.
Via was walking closer to her, her expression full of awe. She stopped and lowered herself to the ground in a bow. A hard task, with the inclusion of her baby, and looked up at Mara.
“May you save us all,” she sang. Her companions started to follow suit. Mara blushed, panic building inside her. Her power didn’t answer her call, instead pulling itself back, as unsure as she was.
Idyn was in front of her then, Ivloch not far behind. Even Yenna appeared, mace in hand.
“Step back please.” Idyn yelled. They did, his vexed tone and blood covered blades making sure they would do nothing less.
“We’re sorry if we offended you.” Via sounded sad. As if she wished she could be punished for such a sin. “It is not every day you get saved by Kara’s chosen.”
“This is new to her, nobody can know who she is. Do you understand?” Yenna asked and the mace raised further. Mara didn’t think she had any intention of using it, but it certainly seemed to terrify them.
“We would never betray you or Kara.
We would rather die,” Olin declared indignantly.
Mara could feel sweat on her forehead and back. More than had been there during the battle.
How was this…? She was not a saviour.
She was a storyteller.
She read the books, listened to the quests and marvelled at the heroines; she didn’t act like one.
“I promise not to tell Lady. Please though, if you have it in the kindness of your heart, please…” Via placed her hand back on the life inside her. “Give this little one Kara’s blessing. If we never make it…”.
Mara took a step forward, and then another. She wanted to scream, to yell, to run.
She did none of those things.
“Mara, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” Ivloch noted.
What Ivloch said was appreciated but it had been a long time since she got to do exactly what she wanted to do. Life was slowly becoming a long line of things she had never expected to accomplish. Those things though, like saving these people today, meant something and maybe if she could give Via a little peace to take on her journey that was a good thing.
Whether she believed in what Via did or not…
Sharing a little hope didn’t feel like it could be a bad thing.
She lowered her body to be in line with Via’s and pulled her sleeve up further. The Mark glinted in the sunlight as if it was happy to be seen for a change. She raised it above the girl’s bulging stomach.
“May you rest well, may your blood be blessed.
May you live in a time which allows you to choose your own destiny.
May you honour those before you, with you, and after you.
May you enjoy the moon as much as the light and sleep with joy.
May you choose freely, wisely, and forever honestly.
If the gift is yours then may you wield it with honour.
Most importantly, may you guard those you love and treasure thy heart
And take no friend for granted or mistaken foe.”
Via cried as she uttered the last words; her voice had sounded foreign and remote to her own ears, but the girl seemed delighted.
Idyn put his arm around her and went to move her away as the others begged to also be blessed. She had known the words since she was small, before she joined Maggie’s caravan. One of the only things she remembered her real mother teaching her, even if she couldn’t remember her face.
Since then every year she would go out and say them to herself. Part of her hated the words, hated the fact her mother had said them and clearly never meant them. Part of her could understand Via’s want. Anything to believe things could get better.
She felt weak and like her body was heavier than it should be. Idyn let her lean into him. She appreciated it. Appreciated him. He took off his furs and wrapped them tightly around her.
“You did amazingly Mara.” The furs smelt of him, the safe wood stench she had begun to consider Idyn's.
Ivloch was sending Lorren away with the prisoners. Via arched her neck to get one last look at her. That baby, if he managed to bring himself into this world, would hear about this day in all the Moon Turns to come, she was sure of it.
Katanya’s fire was building, the whole of the tower ablaze, smoke starting to billow into the heavens. The woman herself was talking to Lorren as he walked away.
“Get her on a horse. We need to go. We’ll rest at nightfall.” Camrin complained, waltzing past. Idyn’s soft hands lifted her onto the white stallion, made sure she was safe on the saddle, and the furs were wrapped tightly around her.
The rest surged for their own mounts. Katanya looked back proudly at her protégé.
It was only Ivloch, a look of concern in his bulging eyes and Fendir, staring off after the husband he would do nothing but worry about, that didn’t share the glee.
Thirty-Two - Jaxon
“We have to do something Jax!”
Jala begged as they were reaching the dungeons
Samiah had been on guard outside, appearing almost gleeful when they returned. The sight made him feel as nauseous as what he had just heard.
They decided to ignore her and descend the steps to stand with the empty row of cells, the door to Becca’s looming at them both.
“I know, but I don’t know what and you can’t be involved in this.”
“I can, and I will. You and the Prince; you’re working together aren’t you?” Her silver eyes were full of accusation and a little hope.
“Yes.” He saw no point in lying; not when everything was about to change.
“Holy hell Jaxon. This is bad isn’t it? Like death bad or there’s really going to be a war bad.”
“I don’t think there’s much chance of avoiding a war now. The death bit, well I’m hopeful, but I can’t make any promises.”
Jala came at him with a hundred questions, most of which he couldn’t answer.
The others felt strange, no he wasn’t part of the resistance or Kara’s Guild but perhaps, yes, he might want to be, if they could survive. He answered what he could, but his mind didn’t stop focusing on the door in front of him. At the news he would have to deliver and the plan he would have to come up with; the life he could hopefully save even if it meant losing his own.
He was also convinced he couldn’t let Jala be part of it. There was a chance she could get through this, get out to somewhere safe.
He started walking forward, Jala continued prattling until she realised where he was going.
“It’s time isn’t it?”
“I think so Jal.”
“Bugger. Come on then.”
She charged past him and opened the door, no reluctance in her stride. He was quickly discovering Jala Ellery had a knack for accepting the truth, much better than he did.
Becca was in her usual spot, her demeanour suggesting she knew they didn’t bring good news. He wished this had been the time he could prove her wrong.
She raised herself to her feet, her legs looked so thin, still so bruised, her eyes defiant.
“It’s bad isn’t it?”
“It’s probably worse,” said Jala.
“Lay it out.” He couldn’t help but believe Becca already knew. He kept himself in the doorway, he didn’t know if he could hold himself together if he moved closer.
“They’ve scheduled your execution for first light. It’s to be in Kara’s square in-front of everyone. They’ve taken Reyn hostage, he tried to put a stop to it but the King…he’s under their control,” Jala’s voice broke as she told her, but she respected this woman enough to continue. “We’re going to get you out though. We’re going to stop this.”
“No.”
Jaxon looked up. Becca had walked to the front of her cell. Her face had a colour to it that he hadn’t seen previously, purpose etched across it.
“You won’t come up with any plan or help me escape. We all knew this was coming. I’ll need you to do your jobs, do whatever is asked of you without hesitation. If it means bringing the axe down on my head, you do what must be done.”
“You can’t be serious.” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Deadly. Quite literally.” She chuckled first but it turned into a cough. She really had lost her mind. “I’ve been here a long time and I’ve been prepared for this for more years than you’ve been alive. My life is just a life, I gave it to saving Brodanna and the people I care about a very long time ago. I’d say goodbye to Ivloch if I could, some others too, but they’ll understand. It’ll hurt them, but they will know why this needed to happen. You know what you are Jaxon and so does she.”
She pointed towards Jala who looked uncharacteristically shy. “I told her moons ago. She knows as much as Reyn and should be trusted the same. Keep her close. Keep each other close. Oh, there’s so much more I could have done.” She gripped the bars, the faintest trace of sorrow evident for a moment before again composing herself.
“We’re here now though, so we’ll deal with it. I’ll die with dignity.
We all know there is a war coming soon, a war they’re going to try and distract everyone from until it’s too late. The Unforgiven will be back, and I can’t stop them but perhaps you and the others can. I’ll do what I can before I go, there’s some messages I’ll need you to pass on for me if you ever get the chance.”
He took a step towards her, coming to the other side of the bars; the power inside him wanted to come out, to destroy something. To watch the world burn.
“Becca, we can get you out. We can find a way. You won’t be dying for a cause; you’ll just be dying.”
She reached her hand through the bars and cupped his face, her touch as cold as ice, as if part of her was already gone.
“I’ll die for what I believe in and that’s more than most ever get. I’ll die before I see this world destroyed. You’re a Guardian Jaxon, you’re more important than I ever was. I just took care of one and some very important people. I’ve done my part. Saving you is crucial and so is Brodanna; or everything I’ve ever done…everything me and Ivloch have ever done would be for nothing and I certainly couldn’t live with that.”
“You can’t die to save me Becca. I don’t deserve that, and I don’t want it.”
“You remind me of Ivloch you know? He never wanted any of this either. It’s the ones who don’t who are best at it, one of the saddest facts of life. You can be good at it. It’s for you, and Jala and everyone I care about on this horrible, crazy little world we live on.”
“Becca –“She was still cupping his face, silent tears sliding down her emaciated cheeks.
“If this is what you really want, and I think you should take a while to be sure, then we’ll do it. but I don’t agree with it, though I do see some sense in it,” Jala cut in “or as much sense as we can find right now.”
“There is no good or sense in any of this,” he cried, his power and his heart feeling emptier than ever.
Jala brushed Becca’s cheek and the two exchanged a smile. He wondered what exactly had been shared between them in his absence.
She let go of him then, smoothing down her dirty hair.