Darkness Falling: Soldiers and Slaves

by R. R. Willica

  “Right away, Your Majesty,” the office saluted and the screen went dark.

  Ka Harn rubbed his temples with a hollow sigh. His doubts for bringing the Master Keeper out of exile were growing daily. He did not trust that Xander would have fared any better. More lost lives and ruined villages would follow his vendetta, turning more eyes to scrutinize the Empire. He doubted that a civilian uprising was a major threat, however; there was also the possibility of one of the other lords might take their opportunity to raise their own dynasty in the chaos.

  Throughout Gleyth's celebration he kept his eyes opened for any sign of distension. Promising Gleyth to Fei Arentey quelled one fire, perhaps, but there were eleven other clans to be aware of.

  The light on his screen flickered again. He answered the call and the officer's face reappeared. “Your Majesty,” the young man said saluting.

  “Go ahead.”

  “The Master Keeper has informed me that his preparations are complete. He requested an audience when you're available.”

  A wave of relief washed through the Emperor. “Very good, have him summoned.”

  He released the call, leaning his head back against his chair. By the evening's end two problems could be resolved; the traitors in Ro'Awnor-Clee recaptured, and the threat of Xander's instability disrupting the noble guests.

  * * *

  Sheyra, Lorsen, and Lineya spent the remainder of the morning cleaning the tavern.

  Sheyra began by teaching Lorsen an easier and more efficient way to mop the floor. He was surprised to discover that much of the grime was sediment left over from leaving puddles on the floor. His experience with cleaning was minimal before working in the tavern. Lineya wiped down tables and helped with the dishes. Perusing the food stores, Sheyra was able to prepare a stew that was at least appetizing and not overloaded with grease.

  The Seafarer’s Lodge was still a horrible dive, but at least it was clean.

  Lorsen unlocked the door in time for the lunch crowd, although crowd was a generous term for a handful of groggy sailors. Sheyra brought out bowls of stew, expertly dodging their lewd comments and hands reaching out to swat at her backside. In the sanctuary of the kitchen she clenched her jaw and grumbled, but reminded herself it was better her than Lineya.

  “Why do they do that?” the girl asked, peeking out from behind the curtain over the kitchen door.

  “Because no one ever taught them to behave respectfully,” Sheyra explained. “There are two types of men; the type that believes everything should be there property, and the type who don’t. It’s important to stay away from that first type as much as possible.”

  Lineya nodded slowly, her eyes wide. It may be a futile lesson but it was one her own father had taught her, she felt obliged to pass it on.

  From out in the bar the bell rang to signal another customer was ordering lunch. Filling a bowl, she ducked out through the curtain. She was surprised to see Jairon from the shop sitting at the bar. He stared at her as she approached; his expression was difficult to read. She had the impression that he was upset with her, but perhaps he was only in a bad mood.

  As she set the bowl in front of him he leaned close and whispered, “Do you have a minute to talk?”

  Sheyra stepped back. “Sorry, I only serve food,” she snapped.

  He rolled his eyes, “Not like that. Thank you for letting me know how you think of me, though.”

  Crossing her arms, she decided to give him a chance. “All right,” she said. “What do you want?”

  He glanced over his shoulder, then at the barman. She wasn’t going to allow him to take her away to a place without witnesses. His behavior was far too suspicious. He seemed to know this as he gave up and spoke in a soft tone.

  “Do you know you have an alert on your ID?”

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “What do you mean?”

  Jairon licked his lips, “Yesterday when you came into the shop I saw it, but I had never seen you before, so I assumed you were passing through. You came back in with your friends, used the card again and I worried but still let it pass. Then, you show up with Lineya this morning and now I’m concerned. The Enforcers are tracking you.”

  She felt her stomach turn accompanied with a strong desire to run to her car and flee. The room began to spin and she sat on the stool next to Jairon.

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Where are your companions?” he asked quietly.

  Unsure if she should trust him, she drummed her fingers on the bar. What would he gain by telling her if he was going to turn her in? She couldn’t think of anything, unless he was completely sadistic and enjoyed watching people suffer.

  “They’re gone, I put them on a ship yesterday afternoon.”

  “Did you purchase their passage with the card?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “Did you use your card here?” He asked.

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  He let out a long breath. “Lorsen,” he said and the barman approached. “Did you see the flag when Sheyra used her card?”

  “I did but I took it as a good sign,” he said.

  “How can that be a good sign?” Sheyra asked. “Do you want the Enforcers to raid the place?”

  Lorsen scratched his head, “No,” he sounded confused. “I figured she was real and not a plant,” he said. “I thought maybe you’d sent her.”

  “I didn’t,” Jairon said firmly. “Why would I send someone with a flagged card to make a purchase?”

  Sheyra felt lost by the turn in the conversation.

  Lorsen shrugged, “No, but after I’d just talked to you in the morning and then she showed up, it just made sense at the time.”

  Jairon sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “It’s too late to do anything about it now.”

  “Wait,” Sheyra put her hand up to stop them from continuing. “What is going on?”

  Jairon and Lorsen exchanged a look. She frowned.

  “Those two companions, you wouldn’t tell me before but maybe you will now. Who are they?” Jairon was gifted in sounding authoritative, far more than any shop keeper should be.

  “Maybe I’ll tell you if you tell me who you are first.” She gave him a smug smile.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” he countered. “I already have an idea and your silence merely confirms it.”

  “I have an idea who you are, too. Sounds like we both already know all the answers to our questions,” she felt her anxiety changing to excitement.

  He must be part of the Resistance. The longer they talked the more certain she became.

  “Very well,” he glared at her. “Our conversation is over, but I do have a request for you.”

  “What?” She asked, her tone softening.

  “Get out of our town,” he said coldly.

  Her heart sank. “What? No, I’m not going to leave.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re going to leave right now, in fact, and never come back.”

  “No,” she shook her head. “I’m here looking for you; don’t you get it?”

  “Too bad,” he shook his head. “Maybe if you actually cared about the damage you’re doing I would consider it.”

  Sheyra stood, untying the apron Lorsen had loaned her, and laid it on the counter. Without another word she walked back into the kitchen. Taking the clothes she had worn from Ro’Tesche-En under her arm, she gave Lineya a quick squeeze on the arm.

  “Where are you going?” the girl asked sorrowfully.

  “I’m sorry,” Sheyra said and quickly walked out.

  “Sheyra,” Lorsen called after her as she stormed passed the bar.

  She didn’t stop. She didn’t look at Jairon sitting smugly on the stool, quietly eating his stew. She didn’t notice the confused sailors watching the events unfold. Stepping outside, the frigid air bit through her sweater. The world was buried in clean white snow and it was irritating. She slammed the car door in an attempt to block i
t out.

  Surrounded by the quiet she let out of a scream of rage, pounding her fist on the steering wheel.

  How could they have been so careless?

  Brosen and Impyra walked the streets with impunity. Not once had they met with an Enforcer patrol or anyone acting hostile or suspicious toward them. She tried to think back on when the card might have been flagged. It could have been at any of the stops they made. She didn’t understand why the Empire was tracking them instead of acting on the information.

  Worse than her regret for their previous actions was the fact that Brosen and Impyra could be sailing directly into a trap and she had no way to warn them.

  Feeling disappointed and helpless, Sheyra started the car. A knock sounded at the passenger window and she jumped. Lorsen was standing in the snow, a forlorn look on his face. She motioned for him to open the door and he climbed in beside her.

  “You can’t go,” he said. “I still need your help.”

  “Jairon's right,” she sighed. “I’m putting everyone in danger by staying here. The Empire isn’t going to ignore my involvement with Brosen and Impyra forever.” She realized it was the first time she was admitting the truth, but she no longer cared. “And you’re involved with the Resistance. They will come and arrested you, Lineya, and Jairon and drag everyone back to Empire Tower.”

  “I'm not with the Resistance,” Lorsen said, eyes wide. “I was trying to get help from Jairon and he can help you, too,” he added.

  She laughed in disbelief. “Jairon won’t help me. He hates me.”

  “No,” Lorsen said, “he’s just angry right now because you put everything he’s been working toward in jeopardy. He’ll calm down.”

  “Right,” Sheyra sighed. “If I leave now you can tell the Enforcer’s I stopped in a for a drink and left.”

  “They’ll question why we didn’t report you,” he said.

  “Then report me when I leave,” she shrugged. “Tell them I threatened you.”

  Lorsen shook his head. “I can't do that, not after everything you've done. Come back inside,” he pleaded.

  She desperately wanted to believe him, which was enough to convince her to turn off the engine. If he was wrong she could still leave. She hoped he was right.

  Sheyra followed Lorsen back into The Seafarer's Lodge. The sailors stared at her through drunken eyes. If they weren't suspicious before then they would be now, she was sure. Jairon remained in his seat and didn't turn to look at her.

  “Now listen,” Lorsen pointed his finger at the younger man, his hand trembling. “You promised to help us in the summer, and still we sit here waiting. Sheyra appears one day and the next she's already kept more than her promise of helping out Lineya. I'm starting to think you're a fraud, you here me.”

  Jairon's eyebrows lifted in surprise; Lorsen must never have spoken his mind before. “Hey, I'm doing the best I can with what I have.”

  “Then it's got to be better. It's got to be today.” The barman crossed his arms over his chest.

  Sheyra bit her bottom lip, eyes wide. She hadn't expected this reaction. Showing a little compassion to a single child went a long way.

  “Fine,” Jairon growled. “Not like we have much choice now, thanks to you.”

  “Don't blame me,” Sheyra said. “Blame the real enemy.”

  He glared at her but didn't respond. Instead he glanced at the patrons. “Find a way to get rid of them and meet me at the designated place.”

  Sheyra's heart raced. This was it. It wasn't as she'd expected but it was even better. Instead of weeks of waiting she had found the Resistance in a single day. Part of her wondered if Impyra had used her power to grant her luck.

  * * *

  Xander rode the elevator to his father's office, both surprised and annoyed at the announcement that Garinsith had completed his preparations. He had hoped that the Master Keeper would fail, Ka Harn would lose his patience, and they would all be thrown out into the streets. Once again, Xander was denied his wish.

  Everyone was assembled when he arrived. The intense eyes of the Mutilators followed him as he strode across the room to stand beside his father's desk. Garinsith was seated. He smiled at the prince mockingly.

  “Very good,” he said, rising to his feet. “The guest of honor has arrived.”

  Xander frowned. “When are we leaving?” He wasn't interested in playing games.

  “Before first light, Your Highness,” the old man said.

  He motioned to Tyn. The Mutilator bent to lift a previously unnoticed cloth from an item on the floor. It was an old sword. Xander's eyes locked on the thing. There was something oddly familiar about it, but he could not remember where he may have seen it before. Tyn lifted it from the floor and handed it to the prince.

  Taking the hilt in hand Xander felt the room darken. The hunger he carried in his heart for Impyra's blood immediately intensified. A clear image of her kneeling before him filled his vision.

  “Xander, please, I'm sorry. Please! I beg you! Stop! No!”

  Her blood was his blood.

  “The sword will negate her ability to use her power against us. At the same time, it will act as a beacon to lead us toward her. Xander must be the wielder of the blade as he was the most intimately connected with her.” Garinsith's explanation was far away.

  “Isn't that a sword from the Gallery?” Ka Harn's voice was lifeless.

  Xander turned his eyes toward his father, who was nothing more than a corpse standing at his desk. The prince felt his heart quicken.

  Yes. Was that his own thought or something else?

  He shook his head. Around him the light brightened and he winced at the sudden change.

  “I know I should have asked your permission, but we are short on time.” Garinsith's lies were thinly veiled. He did not ask because he did not believe it necessary. “If you don’t mind I find it more appropriate we rename the blade to the Seeker.”

  Yes. We are the Seeker. Xander felt the sword’s delight and desire to be rejuvenated. How was that possible?

  “If it puts an end to this mess I’ll forgive it,” Ka Harn said, wanting to avoid confrontation as usual.

  He’s Weak.

  “First you must investigate the reports of possible activity in Ro'Awnor-Clee.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” Garinsith bowed.

  No. We must have blood.

  Xander felt as if he were moving through a dream. “They are not there,” he said, his voice sounding far away from his mind. “Send local Enforcers to deal with that situation, we must follow her to Renenook.”

  Ka Harn was surprised by his son’s reasoning. “What if they separated?” he asked.

  “With the blizzard we will be unable to fly,” Xander continued. “We will need to travel by ship. Have the navy prepare the fastest vessel. We will also need ground transport suitable for the weather when we arrive.”

  Xander could feel Garinsith smile. There was pride in his grin, as well as arrogance. The prince’s new awareness of the Master Keeper’s emotions was somewhat disturbing. The sword did not care. He knew she was not in Ro'Awnor-Clee. He could feel her energy stretching out to him, connecting to his body as if by a thread. This single silver line was traveling north and west across the Darna Waters.

  Xander was forced to concede that the Master Keeper was correct in his statement that she would not be able to hide.

  * * *

  An EOV drove slowly up the street, stopping in front of the battered old tavern. For years the place had been notorious for the usual problems; bar fights, noise, and accidental death by alcohol poisoning. After the plague things calmed down a little, attributed to the new employees and the loss of some of the more aggressive drunks to illness. In retrospect, housing traitors would be a good reason to lower a business's dealings with the law.

  Two Enforcers stepped out in full armor, White Energy guns ready. The windows were dark for a midafternoon and the door was locked. One of them kicked it in while his partner
offered cover.

  “Come out with your hands up!” the first Enforcer bellowed into the seemingly empty tavern.

  There was no response.

  Sweeping the room, they found nothing amiss. There was no barman, no customers sat at the tables. Moving together they checked the kitchen. Empty. They relaxed a little.

  “What do you think?”

  “They must have run.”

  “Hostages?”

  The Enforcer shrugged, “Possible, but doubtful.”

  They stared at each other in agreement.

  Lifting his radio, the first Enforcer called in to the alternate unit which was checking the general store. “Seafarer's Lodge is negative. We've got nothing here, do you read?”

  “Copy that,” radio crackled in response. “General store is also negative.”

  The Enforcers looked at each other. They were going to have to search the town, send out patrols beyond the town. The traitors could be anywhere.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The snow crunched beneath Winifred’s feet, the cold biting through the thin fabric of her clothing. Winter was never so frigid in Sa’Toret-Ekar; not since the time of her ancestors. That in itself was troublesome, speaking of something far more sinister than bad weather.

  With a thought, she filled her body with internal warmth. Magic may protect her from the elements, her charges, however; would not survive. Supplies were needed.

  They stopped in the last village before Na’Effilan Forest. It was little more than a collection of houses around a lumber mill. There was a small general store. The hope of purchasing warmer clothes, blankets, and food was quickly dashed upon exiting the vehicle.

  An eerie silence was broken only by the sound of snowflakes touching the ground. Bitterness in the energy made her grimace. The air was heavy with sickness and death. Just within her perception was another sensation as well; a similar darkness to the shadow they witnessed running across the road.

  “Wait here,” she said to Mikal, who was watching her from the driver’s seat. “Everyone wait in the van.” She closed the door, resting her palm on the icy metal. “Let no malice enter here,” she whispered, sending a quick pulse of energy through the machine.