North & South

by K T Munson

  “I’ll go,” Vica finally said, “but only because you matter to me.”

  He tried not to betray his emotions as he waved two men down and said, “Go with her, guard her, and keep her safe.”

  “Where are you going?” Vica asked as they helped her off of the boat.

  “The Commander is waiting for my sword,” Hadrian said glancing up at her. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”

  He turned away from her and imagined her safe in Lorian if he failed or helping rebuild Ostapor if he succeeded. It did not take long for men to descend down from the pier onto his vessel. He called his name and proclaimed their death. His sword was unyielding, his resolve was strong. It took some time for them to overcome him.

  “I am Hadrian, this cause does not die with me!” he called as a tall man’s thick hand collided with the side of his temple.

  Chapter 63

  The Commander

  The man before him looked more of a holy man than a discarded prince. He wore strange robes and had fought like an experienced warrior according to his men. Despite all the trouble Hadrian had caused, in the end he was just one man.

  “Wake him up,” The Commander ordered.

  Hadrian came around, sputtering, when the water hit his face. The Commander’s men immediately held onto him; despite his age Hadrian was formidable. Despite himself, Bane found he was respecting the man in front of him.

  “Your men are scattering to the four corners of the world,” The Commander said. “Your cause is lost.”

  “My cause will never be lost,” Hadrian responded proudly.

  “Isn’t that the way of the world?” He asked leaning back in the chair the men had brought down for him, “Good doesn’t triumph over evil.”

  “I never claimed to be good,” Hadrian countered and Bane couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You are surprisingly lighthearted,” The Commander said standing. He walked towards him toying with the knife in his hand. “For a man who is about to die.”

  “To your earlier comment, evil triumphs over evil,” Hadrian said looking up at him defiantly.

  The Commander motioned and they held up his hand so he could slice the knife across Hadrian’s knuckles. “I am going to kill you slowly and then I am going to hang your head outside the city walls in honor of your cause.”

  “I am a bad man,” Hadrian said pushing his legs under him, “I have killed and thieved but I have never killed a child or raped a woman. Have you?”

  The Commander laughed heartily, thinking that this man would be fun to kill, as he answered, “Every day, and I will continue to do so until the day I die.”

  “Tell me,” Hadrian said his eyes unwavering before scanning every face in the courtyard, “Has he raped your mother, your sister, or your wife?”

  The Commander suddenly wasn’t as amused as his fist collided with Hadrian’s face before. “Silence dog,” he growled.

  Hadrian’s head turned back and he yelled, “Undo his reign of tyranny and save yourself.”

  Bane drove his fist into Hadrian’s face again before he leaned forward and whispered, “You don’t understand. Your words are useless.”

  Hadrian spat out blood and a piece of chipped tooth before countering, “Words are, only if they aren’t coupled with action. Yet I came aboard that boat alone because I believe it is worth it. All I need is one person to rise up against you.”

  Bane laughed, he couldn’t help it, the man was clearly delusional. “That isn’t how the world works.”

  “My war machines are on their way here,” Hadrian warned. “If I die you all die. If he dies you all live. The choice is yours.”

  Bane raised his hand again as he felt something slide into his side. He looked down at the hilt protruding from his abdomen. His eyes rose to look at the woman who had served faithfully at his side for years. She looked both surprised at what she had done and seemed to be loathing him all at once.

  “What?” He managed confused.

  “You broke her,” she finally managed yanking the knife free. “You mutilated her and then she died. She was 12 years old.”

  As she said that, another knife entered his shoulder from behind. He roared with anger and knocked the girl back pulling his sword. He rushed towards Hadrian who stumbled back. The two guards drew their swords and ran them into Bane’s stomach.

  He gasped for breath as he looked up at Hadrian in confusion. “Look what you have done.”

  Hadrian looked him dead in eye. “You did it to yourself. May you burn for all time.”

  He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder as the men jerked the swords from his body. He fell back on the ground, his blood seeping into the cracks of the courtyard. He looked up at the woman who had stabbed him as she glowered down at him.

  “I want you to suffer,” she said, her eyes dead. “Die in pain like she did.”

  “Fire!” One yelled and came forward with a lit torch.

  She looked down at him and he shook his head. She smiled as she put the torch against him. Despite the fact that his clothes were slick with blood it did not take long for them to catch fire. The Commander died in a stain of his own blood and his screams of agony filled the night.

  Chapter 64

  Lancel Storm

  Roanoak was a place of turmoil. Despite the fact that Hadrian took a large part of Guildafrey’s army and some Vargosians, there were still enough of his men left to hold the city. There were whispers that if you even spoke a name from any of the royal family, you would be thrown into the stockades. Ashira and Cain had to ask what the stockades were—they had never seen such a contraption.

  Lancel had to explain that they were like what he had done to the men who had attacked her. Which, of course, Cain didn’t know about and was livid when he got the entire story. Ashira snapped at him when he lost his temper and he sat like a scolded puppy for the next hour as they made their way across the water to Guildafrey.

  It was clear that Ashira had her spell cast over more than a few men. It seemed that all of Roanoak was on its toes with extended hands. Even though he was standing right next to her, she seemed so far out of his reach. Perhaps it was time to stop reaching.

  “Why do you look like you just ate a lemon?” Eliron asked coming to lean on the railing beside him.

  Lancel cleared his throat and straightened as he asked, “I don’t like the uncertainty of what we face.”

  Eliron tipped his head to the side and nodded his head. “I am sure the people will rise up around Cain and Ashira.”

  “We hope that is the case but we are a few against many,” Lancel said glancing at the walls of the city as they grew bigger. “If they don’t, we will be outnumbered.”

  “It is a risk I am willing to take,” Eliron retorted as the gates to Guildafrey opened for them.

  Ashira and Cain walked up to them, she wore a veil again and it obscured most of her features. It was as he had first seen her that day when her father brokered her engagement. Perhaps, it was more accurate to say, she set forth the conditions of her accepting the engagement. He forced himself to turn away from her and focus on the city.

  Lancel had never been to Guildafrey, never went far beyond the Maiden’s Gate that first time. Oaken Harbor and Maiden’s Harbor were nearly mirror images of each other. Something about Guildafrey seemed older and strangely serene—were it not for the parts still in ruin.

  “There are men waiting for you inside princess,” one of the ferrymen informed her.

  Lancel turned back and faced him. “You will address her as Queen.”

  Ashira put a hand on Lancel’s arm to stop him as she countered, “Thank you for all of your help.”

  He bowed as they came into the city and returned to his post. When the ferry stopped at the dock inside the castle, they slipped off the boat with ease. Guards that were loyal to her father explained what was happening in the city.

  The younger one with a narrow face and frame informed them, “About half the city is carefully gu
arded, mostly around the palace.”

  “Where are the stockades?” Ashira asked as they walked.

  “Outside the palace’s main wall,” another guard informed them.

  “What is our best move?” Cain asked glancing between them.

  “We go through the housing district and make our way to the main palace,” another guard responded.

  They rounded the corner and there were five men with swords at the ready, waiting for them. Their entire parade came to a sudden halt. Lancel and Eliron both put their hands on their sword hilts as they put a protective arm in front of Ashira.

  Ashira pushed back her veil. “I am Ashira, Princess of Roanoak and Queen of Vargos. Lay down your weapons in the name of Cain Rohan, the heir to Roanoak. We want no violence here.”

  “In the name of Hadric Rohan, the honorable and rightful king of Roanoak,” the bald one with a scar said. “Lay down your weapons.”

  Lancel and the others drew their swords. The bald one started forward as a potted plant landed on his head. The pot broke in half and the dirt tumbled out as the man collapsed. There were shouts from above as people threw food and blankets at the remaining three.

  When they turned and ran the people cheered and waved calling, “Princess!”

  Ashira waved as Cain looked back over his shoulder and said, “They love you more than their future king.”

  “While you spent time training and working with the army and guards, I was here with them,” Ashira looked at him. “When mother died it was the only thing we did together. I continued to honor her memory and because it was the right thing to do.”

  Cain reached back and curled his fingers around Ashira’s hand as he said, “Roanoak will need you more than it needs me.”

  Lancel turned away and said, “We need to get moving.”

  People came out to join them and no one dared stand in their way. A small army of Roanoak citizens filled the streets and ensured safe passage. By the time they arrived at the palace, the guards loyal to them had overcome everyone else not dissuaded by the mob. Most were already in cells below the palace. When they walked through the main gates, Lancel saw men loyal to Roanoak being freed from the stockades. Cain ordered that they be gathered together and burned.

  Cain and Ashira were presented soon after as the surviving members of the Rohan family and Cain proclaimed they would protect Roanoak. They called Ashira Princess and many reached up for her. Still they saw them as hers and not a Vargosian queen.

  “She is remarkable,” Eliron said looking to the two waving siblings.

  “It will be difficult to leave her here,” Lancel admitted; he wanted her paraded around Vargos as the King’s savior.

  “For a while I dared not hope that such a woman could love me,” Eliron said in a rare display of emotion. “I will not allow her to remain in Roanoak too long. Vargos cannot go without its Queen nor I without my bride.”

  Lancel looked at Eliron, a man he had known for more than half his life. He realized half the world was in love with Ashira and he was no different. He desired her and wanted to protect her but he had no more right, than any man. The only one who had any right to truly love her was Eliron. She was the Bride of the Water King! That was how it should be.

  Chapter 65

  Queen Sani Siria

  “I didn’t have much choice,” Queen Sani Siria said in defense of herself, “The man was a brute. It was easier to form an alliance than anger him. Sylon is a place of fashion, not a place of war.”

  The girl from Lorian, Vica, sat across from her. “We understand. Since you did not partake in the war itself you will be allowed to keep the lands you and Eswan agreed on. The rest will go to Lorian.”

  “Fair enough,” she replied, but shifted her eyes to Hadrian, who stood looking out the window. “What is it that you want?”

  “You just gave me what I wanted,” Hadrian said turning around.

  “There must be something else,” she responded and leaned forward letting her cleavage talk for her. “Something for all the good that you have done.”

  “Name the harbor Ostapor,” Hadrian finally proclaimed. “To remember what happened and what must never happen again.”

  There came a knock on the door and an older man entered. He hurried over to Hadrian and handed him a letter. Sani Siria settled back in her chair, slightly annoyed her wiles had not worked. She watched as he tore open the message and read the content.

  Vica rose and asked, “What is it?”

  “Roanoak,” Hadrian said his voice catching, “Roanoak is no longer mine.”

  Sani Siria stood and asked, “Who has conquered Roanoak in such a short time?”

  “Ashira and a surviving heir,” Hadrian responded before turning to leave.

  “You aren’t thinking of returning,” Vica said clearly distressed.

  Sani Siria’s eyes darted from Vica to Hadrian and back again. No wonder her normal trick hadn’t worked, the man was completely smitten with the girl. Vica was making large moony eyes at a man twice her age. Sani Siria decided to hold perfectly still and maybe they would forget that she was there.

  “They took everything from me,” Hadrian countered searching Vica’s face. “I was born to be a king and they took it from me.”

  “It isn’t worth your life,” Vica countered. “You have accomplished so much here and there is so much more to do.”

  “I was born to be a king of Roanoak, I have to return home,” Hadrian said before he left the room.

  “This could be your home,” Vica whispered and Sani Siria finally stood.

  “Do not go with him, it will be his ruin and yours with him if you choose to go,” Sani Siria said, knowing that look in Hadrian’s eye.

  “We are nothing but choices and flesh,” Vica whispered before looking back at her, “I know you are right, he is lost in himself and he is no longer the man that saved my life.”

  Despite her words Vica turned and hurried after him. Queen Sani Siria tried to remember when she had ever loved that much. She admired the man who had ended slavery and eradicated Eswan and its hold on people in one single blow. Once The Commander had died, Hadrian sent his flying machine’s north to the Iron City and overcame what little resistance he found there.

  Yet, she held no real love for the man, not like the slaves he had freed. Queen Sani Siria sighed and suddenly felt so old. Love made a person feel young, and she had not loved anything or anyone in a very long time. She loved to rule but that did not keep one warm at night. This girl, who was younger than her, was very much in love with Hadrian the Hero. Curiously, she seemed to be in love with the man; not the idol everyone was raising him up to be. The world works in mysterious ways.

  Chapter 66

  Hadrian

  He stood at the dock disheartened. He had gone to his men and told them of Roanoak’s fate. They had laughed and said they were free; the war was done. There were a few that joined him but most would not and Hadrian’s heart was broken. His initial goal had been to end slavery and what it did to people. Yet his heart had always been calling for home, yearning to return to the place he had been exiled from. As he stood on the dock he could not keep himself from returning. He was Roanoak’s rightful king and heir, but more importantly he had to save Vivia Rohan’s daughter.

  “Hadrian,” a voice said drawing him from his thoughts.

  “Vica?” Hadrian said turning to see her standing a few paces away.

  “You’re going?” She asked and he realized she looked like she was going to cry.

  “Of course,” Hadrian answered, “I must.”

  She nodded her head and Hadrian stood there awkwardly. He wanted to tell her everything she was to him, but dared not. It had taken him days to realize the truth of Vivia’s daughter and he wanted to tell her. He would keep what he knew to himself, the world would know soon enough. He tipped his blue green eyes down and tried not to look at her.

  “I want you to stay,” she finally said.

  He raised his eyes
and eyebrows as he opened his mouth in surprise. She had taken a few steps forward and was scanning his face for any emotion. That was when he saw it, that devotion on her face. She was stronger than she had been when they first met but she was still mostly the same. Still looking for the light in dark places; and the best in people.

  “I will not allow them to take what is mine,” Hadrian explained, “I will free Ashira from her Vargosian husband and rule Roanoak. Ashira deserves to be able to choose a husband for herself, not have one forced on her.”

  “I don’t understand,” Vica said searching his face.

  “It is my home,” Hadrian declared passionately. “She is family.”

  “Why can’t this be your home?” Vica asked clearly distressed. “Why can’t I be your family?”

  “It just isn’t,” Hadrian said looking around.

  Silence fell between them as the boat, that would take him south, appeared. Hadrian waved at them on the boat. A small band stopped and waited. He looked at her young face with tears forming in her eyes.

  “Come with me,” he whispered despite himself.

  She looked up at him surprised but said as a single tear slid down her cheek, “I cannot go where you want me to go.”

  “I will protect you,” Hadrian said but she continued to shake her head.

  “You are going to die and I cannot see your death,” Vica informed him her voice catching. “I couldn’t bear to see it.”

  “Then this is goodbye,” Hadrian informed her.

  Vica sucked in a shaky breath as she nodded. “Goodbye.”

  Before he could say anything else, she turned and ran. Her right hand was pressed against her face and he could see tears on her cheeks. He watched her go for a moment and considered staying. As he glanced around he knew he didn’t belong in the north, he belonged in the south. He had never belonged here and now he was going home. Going home to right a wrong.

  Chapter 67