Darkness Falling: Soldiers and Slaves

by R. R. Willica

  Reluctantly, Sheyra moved toward the door.

  “Thank you,” she said before she exited.

  The nurse was right. She would be strong and she would fight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  It was nearly noon when The Outrider pulled into the dock at the naval facility south of Rau’Tesche-Enra. They were met by an older Enforcer with white hair and brilliant blue eyes. He saluted the prince as they disembarked.

  “Commander Wilik En-Marden, at your service, your highness,” he said.

  “Is the transport ready, we need to get moving.” Xander walked past him without a second glance.

  Treve, Reymer, and Lex all halted to salute properly.

  “At ease, boys,” Wilik acknowledge.

  “The transport is just as you requested. All terrain with the snow tread installed. First, we have a briefing to help your men better navigate, as well as a quick meal.”

  “We don’t have time for this commander,” Xander crossed his arms over his chest.

  “You will have less time to be lost in the storm, your highness. The briefing is ready, if you’ll follow me.”

  “If I may, your highness,” Garinsith interjected, “the commander is correct. Also, allowing your men a moment to readjust to land after the voyage would heighten morale.”

  The prince was not happy with the logic but couldn’t deny that they were right. “Fine, but make it fast,” he snarled.

  Treve appreciated Wilik’s no nonsense approach to dealing with Xander. The commander led them into a small outbuilding not far from the pier. It was a single room with several tables facing the front. A projector screen hung against the wall. They were greeted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and bacon. Treve inhaled appreciatively.

  “Go ahead, grab some food,” Wilik nodded.

  Treve took one of the plates from the table by the door and sat down. The food on The Outrider had been cold rations. He was glad to have a hot meal before they moved on. Xander was the only one from the group who did not partake. He sat glowering, alone in the corner. His impatience was understandable to a degree. The strange sword may work as some sort of compass, but it only pointed in a single direction. Treve doubted it would guide them down the proper roads.

  Wilik lifted a small remote and turned on a projector attached to the ceiling. A map of Imperial Renenook was displayed on the screen.

  “I’ll keep this short and sweet, your highness.” The commander said. “They’re most likely running toward the Far Lands. There are two possible routes by road. I doubt they will attempt to cut across country, being unfamiliar with the area and the treacherous conditions from the storm.”

  Using a small laser light he pointed at the map. “This here is the Imperial Highway. It was built during the last attempt to bring the Far Lands under Imperial rule. To prevent invasion from the north-west, this road is a heavily fortified with regular checkpoints and a wall here at Nysoo Pass. Enforcer presence is being increased as we speak.

  “The other road is an old Renenoors highway from the old kingdom. You can see here that we are near the north-eastern edge of the loop.” He used the laser to trace the road toward the west where it met with the mountains. “Right here there’s a small break in the mountains.”

  “Why isn’t that guarded?” Xander demanded.

  “It’s guarded,” the commander assured him, “but it’s out in the wilderness, too narrow to bring an army through.”

  The commander stared at the map, his expression wavered. There was something he wasn’t telling them, Treve could see it in his eyes.

  “Get more men out there, now,” Xander ordered. “If they’re ahead of us it will slow them down.”

  “Already done, your highness,” Wilik confirmed. “There’s a map in the EOV with the route clearly marked. Also, we’ve stocked you with rations, water, blankets, and shovels.”

  Xander stood up quickly knocking his chair back into the table behind him. Without a word he stalked to the door. Treve shoveled a few more bites into his mouth for good measure before following.

  The EOV was impressive. Similar to the one they’d driven from Rau’Tesche-Awn to the coast, each wheel had been replaced by what appeared to be tank treads and a wedge shaped plow was attached to the front.

  “This machine will get you through any weather,” Wilik said appreciatively. “It also moves as fast as a regular EOV across ice. This is your ideal vehicle.”

  Xander climbed up into the passenger seat, taking on the role of navigator with his sword. Reymer was a the first to drive. Treve took a moment to salute the commander.

  “Thanks for breakfast, sir,” he said.

  “You’re a good soldier,” Wilik nodded. “You all be careful out there. The winter weather can be deceptive.”

  “Thank you, sir, we will.” Treve wasn’t sure what that meant but he was glad for the warning.

  Climbing into the EOV he felt relieved. Xander was an embarrassment. The longer he lived within the tower and served the prince the more he was noticing the cracks in the system. If Brosen and Impyra could not be stopped there was a chance that those cracks would crumble the foundation of fear the Empire held over their citizens. Rebellion and chaos would quickly follow.

  Watching as the naval base disappeared behind them, Treve doubted that change would be a terrible thing.

  * * *

  She huddled close to the stove, shivering. Her bare feet felt as if they were going to freeze to tile. Outside the wind howled. The broken screen door shivered on its hinges as the blizzard raged outside. Deep down, she remembered that they had left the tavern behind.

  They were on a ship in the ocean. Scattered memories of Sheyra and the journey in her car filled her mind.

  They’ve forgotten you. They left you behind.

  Lineya spun to face the curtain leading into the bar. It fluttered silently as if someone had passed through. She crept forward, curious, then stopped when she noticed there was only darkness below instead of the soft lighting she knew so well. Cold fear race through her veins. This wasn’t The Seafarer’s Lodge.

  They’re glad to be rid of you. You were always such a burden. Always sick, always needy.

  She swallowed hard, frightened of the voice behind the curtain.

  “You’re wrong,” she whispered. “My dad loves me.”

  Loves you? He’s stuck with you; obligated to take care of you. No one loves you.

  “No,” Lineya protested. “You’re wrong.”

  People only take care of others when they want something for themselves.

  A dark mist began spilling in under the curtain. Lineya jumped back, not wanting it to touch her. The walls began to fade, leaving her standing alone on a black mirror. She hugged herself apprehensively. In the distance she could see the outline of someone standing in the shadows.

  Aren’t you tired of being alone?

  “I’m not alone, I have my dad and Sheyra and Jairon.”

  She watched the figure dart from side to side, slowly moving closer despite it’s unusual path. Lineya took a step back.

  They don’t care about you.

  “Yes, they do! My dad always took care of me. Jairon saved us, and Sheyra bought me my new sweater!” She realized she was getting angry. Hot tears spilled from her eyes.

  A sweater? You base your theory of love on a single sweater?

  “Sheyra was a stranger, but she cared about me.”

  Lineya felt empowered. She stood up straight, clenching her fists. Suddenly she wasn’t cold any more. Looking down she saw her clothes had transformed from her ragged dress into the outfit Sheyra had purchased from the store. She smiled, raising her eyes to greet the Darkness. It towered above her; a human shaped shell bristling with jagged spikes and dripping blood.

  With my strength you will be the nightmare, the devourer. None shall defy you.

  “No! I won’t!” Lineya planted her feet, terrified but unwilling to falter against the monster.

  Snarling,
it leapt at her.

  She screamed, “Dad! Sheyra! Help!”

  Ducking to protect her head with her arms, she was surprised when a golden light surrounded her. As the monster collided with it, the beast broke into smaller pieces; each of which fled in opposite directions. Lineya held still, breathing heavily. She was so tired.

  Can you see the light? A softer voice whispered in her ear.

  Slowly, she stood up, admiring the beautiful glow that surrounded her frail body. She was glowing from within.

  “I can see it,” she said in awe.

  “What can you see?”

  Her eyes fluttered open. The room was full of fog. The blurry form of a nurse hovered over her, haggard with worry.

  “Her eyes are opened,” she said, her voice frantic.

  “Her heart rate is not increasing,”

  Lineya felt herself slipping backward into the dream. She was not afraid.

  “Tell my dad it didn’t get me,” she whispered.

  “What didn’t get you?” The nurse asked.

  “The darkness.”

  “We’re losing her!”

  “No, no, no. Lineya, stay with us. She was just talking. Come on, stay with us.”

  “Ready with the defibrillator.”

  “Lineya! Let me through, that’s my daughter!”

  “Someone close the curtain!”

  “Get someone out there with her dad, now!”

  “Clear!”

  “Lineya!”

  The light flared from the floor, the ceiling, and from within. She knew it was time, and she was not afraid.

  * * *

  Sheyra burst through the door, face streaming with tears. Lorsen stood in the middle of the room, shoulder's hunched, face hidden in his hands, weeping loudly. A nurse had one arm around his shoulder in a futile attempt to comfort him.

  “What happened?” Sheyra demanded. “She was stable.”

  “We don't know,” the nurse said, eyes wide.

  “You must be Sheyra,” a voice said over her shoulder.

  She turned to see a young doctor, her face flushed and her hair escaping a bun at the back of her head.

  “I'm doctor Kellis,” she said quickly. “Please, have a seat.”

  “I don't want to have a seat; I want to know what happened.”

  “Very well,” Kellis said quietly. “Lineya's fever suddenly increased dramatically. At the same time her heart-rate began to decrease. She went into convulsions and began screaming in her sleep. While we attempted to administer treatment she awoke briefly, but her heart stopped. She was not responding to the usual treatments for the Senna Plague, and her body is covered in strange welts, almost as if something were biting her. We believe it's a mutated strain.”

  Sheyra lowered her head. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. She clenched her fists, her body shaking with sorrow and anger. Lineya didn't deserve this. Lorsen didn't deserve it, either. No one did. Someone had to answer for these crimes.

  “She did leave a message for her father before we lost her,” Kellis continued. “She wanted him to know that the darkness didn't get her.”

  Lifting her head, Sheyra glanced at Lorsen.

  “What does that mean?” She asked, confused.

  “We don't know,” doctor Kellis shrugged.

  “I have to get out of here!” Lorsen yelled unexpectedly.

  He pushed the nurse away and ran out into the corridor.

  “Stop him,” the doctor rushed after him. “He's far too distraught, he may do something he regrets.”

  Sheyra followed on her heels with the doctor right behind her. They chased him up the stairs onto the main deck. He ran wildly toward the edge of the ship.

  “Stop him! He's going to jump!” Kellis shouted frantically.

  Several crew members rushed to Lorsen's aid, gathering around him in an attempt to slow him down. He struggled against the embracing arms, flailing at those who tried contained him. When they did not relent, he gave up, slumping to his knees.

  “Lorsen!” Sheyra shouted, catching up to him. “Please,” she pleaded, panting. “Stop, please.”

  “You don't understand,” he sobbed. “I've lost them all. I've failed.”

  “It wasn't your fault,” Doctor Kellis said, kneeling beside him. “You did everything you could.”

  “Did I?” he snapped.

  She jumped, but quickly regained her composure. “Yes, you did. And, I believe her final words were a message of hope.”

  Lorsen began to laugh. The sound started deep in his chest, breaking through his tears into an eerie rumble that shook his frame.

  “Hope? What kind of hope do you get from your daughter's death, exactly?”

  “Lorsen,” Sheyra reached out to place her hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off.

  He pushed himself to his feet. Very slowly he raised his head to stare across the horizon. Standing still, everyone around him was on edge to anticipate his next move. Sheyra watched as the anger melted from his face. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. She followed the line of his sight to see he was staring at the strange light.

  “Lineya,” he whispered.

  “What?” Sheyra furrowed his brow, confused.

  “What is that light?” He asked blinking as if waking from a dream.

  “We don't know,” Sheyra said cautiously. “Talon is sending Jairon and Therin to investigate.”

  “I must go there,” Lorsen's words became urgent. “I must go. Lineya is there.”

  Sheyra felt her heart break. “No, I'm sorry, I know this is hard. She's not there.”

  “Yes, she is. She's in that light.”

  Doctor Kellis sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Denial is part of the grieving process,” she offered.

  “I must go.” Lorsen turned, walking purposefully back toward the ship's interior. “Where is Talon?” He asked.

  “In the wheelhouse,” one of the crewmen shrugged.

  Sheyra hurried after him, not confident that he was past the worst of the shock he'd suffered. She followed him up to the wheelhouse where Talon was quietly observing the crew. The boss' face remained as stoic as ever.

  “I must go with Jairon to investigate the light,” Lorsen said without explanation.

  Talon appeared thoughtful. “What do you have to offer the expedition?”

  “My daughter is there, calling me toward the light.”

  The boss considered this carefully. Sheyra waited nervously for her answer. Perhaps they could lock him in the quarantine as well until he was no longer a threat to himself.

  “Very well,” Talon said. “They're leaving soon. I'd hurry.”

  “Thank you.” Lorsen gasped. “You won't regret this.”

  He pushed past Sheyra who stood stunned at the decision.

  “I don't understand,” she said.

  Talon turned her attention back to the open sea. “A man in sever grief is a threat to this environment. If nothing else, once he's returned to the continent it will be easier to subdue him or let him run as necessary.”

  “You mean they'll kill him,” Sheyra stated flatly, feeling anger welling in her chest.

  “No. But, if he remains here he could easily kill himself or others. Being contained as we are can be detrimental to someone who is unstable emotionally.” Talon smiled patiently.

  Sheyra breathed a little easier. Perhaps Talon was blunt but Sheyra believed what she said.

  “You can have the rest of the day off, recruit, to mourn your loss. Get some rest.”

  Sheyra did not hesitate. Alone among strangers, she fled to her quarters to take Talon's advice.

  * * *

  Gleyth watched the bustle and flurry of activity as the slaves packed her room. Clothes were neatly folded into boxes or hung in garment bags for transport. Her small items were wrapped and packed away. She felt an intensifying sense of panic as the reality of her situation became clear.

  This wasn’t her home any more.

  Although she wa
s a princess, Gleyth did not have many possessions. Besides her wardrobe, her jewelry, and her beauty products, there were only a few trinkets and objects of sentiment. The few books she was allowed belonged to the Tower and could not be taken. It was disconcerting to see her entire life fit into a few boxes.

  What was worse, she hadn’t considered her departure would be so abrupt. She had thought that there would be a few days more after the wedding at least, especially with the continued bad weather. Instead, the nobility were fleeing the city. Their initial decision to wait out the storm had been a mistake. The longer they waited the more treacherous travel became. With the wedding done new initiative was taken to return safely to their Towers.

  “If we wait much longer we will be trapped here until the winter ends. My father must return to govern,” Arentey told her gently.

  She didn’t see much of a problem with being trapped in Rau’Tesche-Awn for a few months. It was strange how only two mornings before she desperately wanted to escape the Tower; now she did not want to leave.

  When the packing was done her things were carried away to the garage. She sat heavily on the bed, watching the snow blowing past her window.

  “Gleyth?” Arentey said from the doorway. “It’s time.”

  Slowly, she stood. Her feet were heavy, making it difficult to walk. This would be the last time she left this room. When they next visited she would be housed with the other guests. It was a difficult thought and she attempted to push it from her mind.

  Arentey offered his arm. She took it reluctantly, glancing back one last time at her bedroom before he pulled her away. Two Enforcers escorted them into the elevator, reminding Gleyth that she was still under the watchful eye of her father and her husband.

  Down through the Tower they traveled, below the Gallery and into the garage. Fa Marden awaited them. She had never ridden in an EOV, and certainly not one equipped for difficult conditions. Her curiosity was quashed by the reality of the situation. Arentey and his father took seats by the doors while Gleyth was made to sit where possibility of escape was less likely.

  She didn't tell them she had no plans of escape. Instead, she knew exactly what she was going to do. First she would produce an heir for Fei Arentey. Once the child was viably delivered she would petition to be removed from the Tower at Rau'Tesche-Enra. If his proposal of giving her freedom in exchange for a child was in earnest, surely he would not object.