Darkness Falling: Soldiers and Slaves

by R. R. Willica

  “I may not be your son but I am capable. You could put me to work. We could solve the economic crises. People could return to productive jobs. I could travel to the outlying territories and see what aid is needed for the outlying lords.”

  “Xander is my heir, that is his work,” Harn said sharply.

  “Xander doesn't care about anything except the throne. He is failing as heir.” The words came out before she could stop them. Her heart was racing and her palms began to sweat. She might as well keep going. “I could be your heir. I wouldn't let you down. But first I must not be married to Fei Arentey.”

  “Enough of this,” Harn nearly shouted, rising to his feet. He had never raised his voice to her before. “I will not pass over Xander for a girl, no matter how smart you think you are. You are a daughter, not a son. Already there is dissension in the ranks. You're a fool if you think I would further upset the aristocracy by breaking the alliance between Ka and Fa!”

  Gleyth stood unwavering. She wondered if Impyra felt a similar rush as she jumped through the window. “If you will not support me I will do it on my own.”

  “No, you will not!” He slammed his hand on his desk. “You are here making these demands of me knowing our current situation. I cannot allow you to weaken this dynasty any further, do you understand me?”

  “You don't need me to show how weak you are. You do a fine job on your own.”

  Ka Harn rushed toward her. She stepped backward into the elevator, pressing wildly on the button to close the door, shutting him out before he could reach her. Gleyth panted, leaning against the back wall. Her face burned hot with anger and fear. When the doors opened on the sixty-seventh floor she half ran and half fell into the corridor.

  “Your highness?” one of her maids said, startled.

  “Silia, call the others.” Gleyth rushed into her chamber and began pulling clothes from her closet. “Gather up all of the blankets and warm clothes you can find. Raid the linen closets if you have to, just find as many blankets as you can.”

  Silia did not move, watching her mistress nervously. “I don't understand, your highness.”

  Gleyth stopped, breathless. She was shaking. “Why are you looking at me like that? We're going out into the city. I'm going to bring blankets and clothes to the poor.”

  Silia was unsure what to do; Gleyth was kind to her, a good mistress. She also knew Gleyth was not allowed to leave the Tower unattended.

  “You have permission, your highness?”

  Irritated, Gleyth rubbed her forehead. “It doesn't matter, Silia. I am the High Princess. The time for action is now.”

  Backing away, Silia shook her head slowly. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, frightened.

  In the corridor the elevator doors opened. The maid's eyes widened. She jumped out of the way as a small unit of Enforcers marched up the corridor. They lined up shoulder to shoulder in the doorway to prevent the princess from running out.

  “No.” Gleyth said firmly. “Leave me alone! Get out of my way!”

  “Your highness,” the lead Enforcer said coldly. “His Majesty has requested we observe you until your fit of hysterics have ended, for your own safety.”

  Gleyth blinked back tears, not wanting the men to believe she was being over emotional. “Hysterics? Wanting to help the poor is hysteria?” She began to laugh in disbelief.

  “If you do not desist in your current actions we will be forced to detain you in a cell until further investigation is completed.”

  Opening her mouth to speak she noticed a pleading light in the Enforcer's eyes. She was pushing the limits of her office. The realization that her father would threaten to lock her into the prison floor was not what she expected. Dropping the clothes, she held onto the floor, she walked to her bed. Her body numb, she sat down hard and stared at the floor.

  Was a cell really any different than her apartments? Empire Tower was already her prison of glass. There was no hope.

  Once more the elevator opened. This time Ky Thella rushed through, her face etched in terror.

  “Gleyth,” she called out. “Let me pass, please,” she begged the Enforcer nearest to the door.

  He stepped aside to let her through.

  “Mother,” Gleyth whispered as Thella fell to her knees at her daughter's feet.

  “What is going on? What are you doing?” Thella grasped her hands, squeezing them tightly.

  “I just wanted to do something productive in this world. I don't want to see the Ka destroy everything the Empire has built merely by doing nothing for the people.” Her voice was a harsh whisper. A tear escaped her eye and fell into her lap.

  Thella's eyes were sorrowful and sympathetic. “But you can't,” she said, caressing Gleyth's cheek. “Do you understand? You can't. We are not part of this world, child. We are only here for them, and they make the rules.”

  “It doesn't have to be this way,” Gleyth insisted.

  “But it is,” Thella closed her eyes, attempting to steady herself in the horrible truth. “Your father will be forced to destroy you if you act against him. There is already too much talk to rebellion. Now is not the time.”

  Gleyth remembered Kevie standing in the darkness of the Gallery. “This is not the way.”

  When was the right time? What was the correct path?

  “You must marry Fei Arentey. I was afraid, too, when I married your father. In the end my life has not been that bad. I have you and your brothers and sisters. We have a home and food to eat. Living in the Tower is not such a terrible thing, is it?”

  She was unable to answer, having never known anything different.

  “I must inform you that your little outburst has caused your father to push the wedding up. We were going to wait a week and give you time to get to know Arentey a little better. Now it will be tomorrow morning to ensure the union.”

  “Tomorrow?” Gleyth closed her eyes. Her mother squeezed her hands tighter.

  “The Enforcers will be keeping you confined to your apartments at your father's command. I beg you to no defy him again, Gleyth. Please. Don't do anything stupid.”

  She could not deny the Queen's request. To lose a child would be devastating to a woman who had nothing but her children for comfort. She couldn't bring such pain into her mother's life.

  “I promise,” Gleyth whispered, wiping the tears from her face.

  Thella smiled weakly. Slowly she stood from the floor, pulling the princess up into a strong embrace.

  “Everything will be all right,” Thella whispered into her daughter's ear.

  In the safety of her mother’s arms, Gleyth wept.

  * * *

  Impyra shivered inside the well-worn coat which was far too big for her small frame. She pulled the strings of the hood as tightly as they could go to hold in the heat generated by her body. Hiding her hands inside the sleeves she looked like a child wearing her father's clothes. Despite the poor fit, she was grateful for the protection the coat offered.

  Brosen's coat fit much better. The hood framed his face and made his blue eyes glow brighter. They stood beside the lifeboat, which was more of an inflatable raft with a small outboard engine attached to the back. There wouldn't be any shelter once they left the ship.

  “When yer in th'water,” the captain said, “press this red button 'ere on the top o'the engine.” He pointed at the only red button on an otherwise black surface. “Use this handle t'steer.”

  “Yeah,” Brosen said, trying not to sound annoyed by the instructions.

  “There's a survival kit under th'seat. It has bandages, water, and a flare gun if ya need it. Th'shore is due west from 'ere.” Captain Dei'Brenen pointed in the direction they would be going. “There's a beach. Ya can't miss it.”

  Impyra hoped that was true. Being sent blindly into unknown waters in the dark during a blizzard to find a man they'd never met was challenge enough. To be killed by running aground on rocks hidden beneath the waves was not how she wanted to end her journey.

  “We
'll lower ya down.”

  The water was a long drop from deck. Impyra’s knees weakened and she felt foolish for her fear. It was a much shorter distance than the seventy stories she had fallen from Empire Tower; she shouldn't have any reason to be afraid. Without the urgency of conflict pushing her to make rash decisions, the idea of falling was unpleasant.

  She kept her anxiety to herself.

  Brosen climbed into the boat first. Before she followed him Gilly surprised her by pulling her into an awkward hug.

  “Be careful, girly,” he said gruffly. “Virikoor'll find ya.”

  “Thank you,” she said uneasily.

  Brosen offered his hand and helped her up into the boat. She sat across form him on a small bench before wrapping herself in the blanket. The small crane whirred loudly as the boom swung them out over the water. Impyra gripped the seat tightly. Brosen didn't look any happier with the situation. He closed his eyes tightly in anticipation.

  Dropping faster than expected, the raft hit the water hard, splashing them with ice cold spray. The lifeboat bobbed violently against the choppy waves. Impyra reached out instinctively with her energy. She envisioned the flat reflective surface of a calm lake on a summer's day. The boat settled, holding steady.

  Realizing she'd been holding her breath, Impyra gulped in air.

  Brosen pushed the button on the engine. Sputtering, it began to buzz. He steered away from the ship. Impyra waved one last time, not sure if they would see the crew of The Water Skipper ever again.

  “What do you think their plan is to escape the Empire?”

  “I don't know,” Brosen shook his head. “Go to prison probably.”

  She glared at him. It wasn't funny. Brosen wasn't one to joke, however; and she knew he was serious.

  “Do you think they'll die because of us?”

  He glanced at her before turning his attention back toward the horizon. His silence was answer enough. She wanted to scream. If it weren't for the snow they wouldn't need help from Virikoor or anyone else. They could walk to the free territories, disappearing forever.

  To distract herself, Impyra twisted toward the shore. A cluster of lights glittered to the southwest. That must be Port Kooriellel. The deeper shadows in front of them must be the beach where Gilly's brother waited.

  “It's not your fault.” Brosen said.

  “What?” Impyra turned back.

  “I know it's hard not to think that way. The truth is it isn't your fault. None of this is.”

  “People's lives are ruined because of me,” she reminded him. “You, Sheyra, the crew, everyone.”

  “No,” Brosen shook his head slowly. “None of this would have happened if Xander had been kind to you. None of this would have happened if the Emperor took care of his people. We've all helped you because we wanted to; because we know what's right.”

  She smiled weakly. It was easy for him to say, but completely different from her perspective. None of this would have happened if she had stayed in the Tower.

  “Look,” Brosen nodded toward the shore.

  Impyra could see two small lights shining out toward the sea. “Are those headlights?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  The eastern sky was beginning to brighten as they washed up onto the beach. A tall man in a heavy parka ran across the snow covered sand to meet them.

  “Hey there,” he said, cheerfully. “Brosen and Impyra?”

  “Are you Virikoor?” Brosen asked, but Impyra could already see the resemblance in the man's face to Gilly.

  “Aye, that's right. Grab th'survival box.”

  He held the raft steady as they clambered over the bow, attempting to avoid stepping in the icy seawater. It felt strange to stand on solid ground once more. Impyra's legs wobbled, attempting to adjust for the swaying of the ship which was no longer necessary.

  “Stand back,” Virikoor said, pulling a long knife from beneath his coat.

  There was a loud pop as he drove the blade into the wall of the raft.

  “What are you doing?” Brosen asked, shocked at the destruction.

  “Sendin' it back out to the Darna Waters,” the man grinned. If th'Enforcer's find it they might think ye drowned.” He pushed the deflating raft into the surf. “Let's go,” he said, motioning for them to follow.

  He led them up the beach to an old car which looked as if it had seen better days. It was a tiny two door vehicle but there was a back seat. Impyra squeezed herself between the front seat and the door frame. Brosen sat in the front, positioning the seat so that it slid all the way forward. The change didn't matter. Impyra's knees were nearly to her chest.

  “Wait while I brush off the snow,” Virikoor instructed.

  The people of Renenook were far more prepared for the weather than those of Sa'Toret-Ekar. Blizzard conditions were a common occurrence in the north. After clearing the windows, Virikoor fell into the driver's seat and started the engine.

  “My house isn't too far,” he said enthusiastically. “Soorina'll have breakfast for ya.”

  “Who's Soorina?” Impyra asked, adding another name to her list.

  “She's my wife, o'course.” He laughed.

  Expecting the little car to struggle, Impyra was impressed when it jolted forward, plowing over the drifts with ease. Brosen gripped the door frame as Virikoor navigated the treacherous roads without difficulty.

  “Do you know what the Captain's plan is to avoid the Enforcers?” Impyra couldn't help but ask.

  “Aye,” Virikoor nodded with a smile. “He's gonna sink the whole thing.”

  “What?” Brosen and Impyra said in unison.

  “Ya know, the ship. He's gonna sink it an' they're all gonna jump ship. Go their separate ways.”

  Impyra leaned back, closing her eyes in exasperation. “Why would they do that for us?”

  “Oh, not for you only,” Virikoor assured her. “Cap'n Dei'Brenen's been ready to retire. The rusted ol'tub can be salvaged later.”

  Impyra didn't believe him, but she also realized it was a good way to avoid being arrested.

  “Don'cha worry,” Virikoor smiled. “Changes are comin’.”

  Brosen looked at him solemnly. “What do you mean?”

  “War,” the Renenoors man's smile faded. “Don'cha know anything?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “You've all seen White Energy guns,” Talon said, her voice carrying easily across the deck of the ship.

  Sheyra was impressed by the boss's vocal strength. At least one hundred men and women were gathered, standing at attention. She was at the back with three other new recruits and she could hear clearly.

  “Unless you're from Ardnilia, you've never seen this model before.” Talon held up a small gun, similar in appearance to a riffle but easily held in one hand. “This is called a pistol. It will be the weapon of choice for our units. Light, easily concealed, and just as powerful as the larger counterpart. Observe.”

  Turning toward the sea she fired a single blast. In a flash of light, the bolt flew out from the ship, an explosion of water erupted skyward where it landed.

  “All of you will be trained with dummy guns until such time it is determined you are capable of carrying a live weapon. Some of you have already reached this point, others have a long way to go.” Holstering the weapon, Talon crossed her arms over her chest. “That is all, proceed to your daily training.”

  The soldiers began to disperse. Sheyra stood with her fellow recruits; a small young woman with big eyes and all tall, lanky man whose face was covered in scars. She tried not to stare.

  “I'm Keysa,” the young woman said.

  “Sheyra.”

  “Pheyren.”

  “When did you arrive?” Keysa asked.

  “Yesterday,” Sheyra answered. “You?”

  “This morning. We were on the ferry with the guns and the trucks.”

  “Trucks?” Sheyra glanced around.

  Keysa pointed to the far side of the deck. “Over there, those Enforcer truck
s.”

  “Oh,” Sheyra nodded, curious to know how they'd acquired the EOVs.

  “Good morning,” Nakiya said as she approached the group. “I'll be your first trainer. To start, we need to build your strength. You're going to run two laps around the deck.”

  “But it's freezin' out here,” Pheyren complained, teeth chattering.

  “You'll warm up. Talon believes this snow isn't going to stop any time soon. We don't have time to wait until spring. Now, get running or you'll be cleaning toilets for the week.”

  Sheyra did not complain. This was what she wanted. She began to jog at an even pace. Keysa quickly fell into step beside her. Pheyren hurried ahead, wanting to get out of the cold as quickly as possible.

  “Do you know him?” Sheyra asked.

  “No,” Keysa shook her head. “Met him on the ferry.”

  They ran quietly side by side. The cold air burned her lungs, but Sheyra forced herself to continue. If they were going to fight for their freedom she would have to endure more pain than frigid temperatures.

  “Where are you from?” Sheyra asked to distract herself from the pain.

  “Ro'Orna-Ky,” Keysa answered. “Plague's making a resurgence in the eastern provinces. I already lost my family the first time, decided not to stick around to see how it turned out this time.”

  “I lost my dad, too.” Sheyra acknowledged.

  “What about your mom?” Keysa asked.

  “She died when I was a baby. My dad didn't talk about it much, too hard for him.”

  Keysa nodded in understanding. “Where are you from?”

  “Ro'Tesche-En.”

  The name of the village brought the girl to a halt. “The one the traitors attacked?”

  Sheyra stopped. “They didn't attack,” she said defensively. “Except for me, the village was abandoned. After the plague everyone ran for Rau'Tesche-Awn.”

  “Wait, wait,” Keysa said excitedly. “How do you know they didn't attack? Were you there when it happened?”

  “Yeah, but that's not what happened. Brosen and Impyra stopped to have some food and change vehicles. Then Kei Xander comes charging in with his helicopters and starts firing on the buildings. They blew up my dad's tavern.”