Junkland (The Hoarding Book 1)

by Patrick Johns

  “Riago’d rather feel the touch of those royal breasts in my hands, Your—”

  Thump.

  The guard hit Riago again, this time hard in the center of his back. He went down to the floor a second time. Riago rose back to his knees, more slowly this time. His body was trembling, a bloody cough exploded from his chest.

  He spat at her feet. “Is this how you treat your prisoners? This is not justice. Riago will never serve a murderous queen.”

  He stared coldly into Nadia’s eyes. “You raided our land, you murdered our king, and you treated our princess—our queen—as if she was a prisoner. The poor girl’s mother died and instead of being the motherly figure she deserves, you went ahead and killed her father, and blamed some boy for your actions. Where’s the honor in that, Riago asks you? Killing prisoners if they refuse to serve you? Where’s your honor? Riago serves the real Queen of Astenpoole. Queen Alana Poole! You’re a disgrace to the kingdom.”

  “A disgrace?” her muscles tensed. “Do you have any idea what I’ve sacrificed to get here? The pain I’ve been through? King Leoné was weak and would never have been able to survive what’s to come. Astenpoole needs a king that will fight and win. Astenpoole needs Carthel! He’ll save your kingdom from what’s coming over those mountains! Which you fools falsely worship.”

  “Aye? And what God do you serve? False god or not, at least ours doesn’t believe in murdering innocent people!” Riago coughed. “You call this saving? This is destruction!” Riago coughed again. This time more blood sprayed the floor. “Good old Riago would rather face whatever comes over those mountains than you, your sorcery, and your false king. Leave this place. You’re no help to Astenpoole!”

  Nadia glared at him. Her blood was boiling. He did not respect her. How could they not appreciate what she was doing? They were selfish. Just like Emilia.

  “Very well,” she said. “Because of your defiance, I’ll give you one last chance, with a more drastic consequence. Serve me, or suffer.”

  Riago stared at her, defiantly. “No.” He spat at her, shaking his head.

  “I see.” Nadia gave a slight nod to the two guards standing behind him. The guard on his left raised his Captor, pointing it at Riago. Riago’s eyes widened, panic clear across his face.

  “I have been kind,” Nadia said softly, “killing your people first before I take their energy, but for you…”

  Riago gasped.

  “For you there’ll be no mercy.” Nadia nodded again at her guard.

  He pressed down on the bottom trigger. There was a deep, low hum as the floor began to shake under Nadia’s feet.

  VHRUUUUMMMM.

  A yellow beam shot out and encompassed Riago’s body. There was a blinding light and a sharp scream.

  Nadia didn’t even blink.

  When the light cleared, Riago’s body was gone. His shrieks could be heard inside the Captor.

  The sphere at the top of her staff began to glow a brighter yellow—the brightest it had been in ages. Nadia stared deeply into it—smiling. She clutched her staff tighter, closing her eyes and taking in a deep, satisfying breath.

  She opened her eyes and looked at the blood in front of her; the red reminded her of Emilia. Her dark red hair…and her blood red eyes. “Clean this up at once!” she ordered the two guards. “This is a mess.”

  She started walking towards the council room at the back of the hall. She wanted to wait in peace. But she turned and glanced at her two guards.

  They saw her looking. “Yes, Your Grace?” they asked.

  “Bring me Sir Piller Lorne,” she commanded. She turned and entered the council room, slamming the door behind her.

  She let out a long sigh as her eyes looked around. There was an oval shaped table in the center of the room where Leoné had once held his council meetings. But now, he was dead, and the council room was hers.

  Nadia took a seat at the opposite end of the room, beneath the large painting of the Western Mountains. She leaned her staff against the chair next to her.

  Her head was spinning in an endless circle. If only she had used the boy while she had had the chance. Instead, she wasted time on that man in the courtyard. How could she be so stupid? She had had him in her hands! He had even placed his hands over her sphere!

  She found tears escaping her eyes. She wiped them away in disgust, but more only followed. She let her head fall into her arms on the table as she broke down.

  It had been a stressful eighteen years since Emilia drove them out of Bellow Hill. Carthel thought he could help Emilia, but he had been wrong. He had failed to protect his kingdom. Nadia wouldn’t let that happen again.

  There had been a time when Nadia admired Carthel, loved him. When he was a strong and powerful king, she had adored him. When he had been a man—a real man. When he wasn’t just a helpless crow. Her love and respect for him had faded over the years—and those beady, black eyes didn’t make it any better.

  Nadia didn’t know if she could handle this life any longer if this plan didn’t work. She didn’t want to—no, couldn’t—live with a crow as a husband. Not anymore. The plan must work.

  She lifted her head and massaged her temples with her fingertips. Is Carthel going to disappoint me again? The minutes ticked by as she waited. But the minutes quickly crept into hours. Nadia was half-asleep when she heard a tapping at the door.

  The sound had frightened her and had made her jump. She shot up and sprinted around the table, towards the door. She swung it open. Carthel flew in, landing on the table. He turned to look up at his beloved wife.

  “Well?” Nadia asked impatiently, as she closed the door behind her. She stood over the black crow with one hand on her hip, glaring.

  “There has been no sign of them,” the crow answered. His voice was deep, hinting at the man he once was. “But we’re still look—”

  “AH!” Nadia felt the blood boil in her skin. This was not the news she wanted to hear. She turned away from Carthel.

  “Nadia?” Carthel said behind her, softly. “How much more must die?”

  Is that sorrow in his voice? Nadia whipped around to face him. “You knew exactly what the price would be, Carthel. Don’t act like you were unaware this would happen.”

  “Yes, but we had the boy. We had the energy to turn me back! This could’ve been over. I thought this would end when Leoné was dead. Why are we still killing people?” Carthel stared up at her with those beady, black eyes.

  Nadia couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Don’t act like you are the innocent one. You were all for this plan after you knew it would turn you back. You knew the sacrifices.”

  She pointed a trembling finger at his beak as she continued. “I’ve given up eighteen years of my life for you, Carthel. I’ve crossed the entire world—through rough seas and terrain! I’ve married two men who treated me as if I was nothing, a peasant! I’ve taken over a castle and I captured the boy who will change you back to the man you were and help us stop Emilia. But now I’m beginning to think you aren’t the man I once knew.”

  “What are you saying?” Carthel flapped his wings in frustration.

  She slammed her fists down on the table. She was beginning to frighten herself, but she had to stand her ground. She couldn’t waste anymore time. “I can’t do this anymore! I’ve sacrificed too much of my life to be defeated by Emilia again and again. I can use all this energy to stop her. I can save our people. I can save our family and our son.”

  “Our son? Our son is dead…” Carthel cocked his head, confused. “You told me Ren had killed him while—“

  “Our son is not dead, Carthel.”

  “Our son is alive? But how?”

  “I sent him away—to Palor with my mother, to protect him. To—”

  “YOU LIED ABOUT OUR SON?” Carthel was furious. “WHY? WHY DID YOU HIDE HIM FROM ME?”

  “It wasn’t safe to tell you. To tell anyone,” Nadia felt warm tears sliding down her cheeks. “I didn’t want Emilia to get to him. Sh
e has spies—”

  Carthel had heard enough. He flapped his wings and rose into the air. He flew into Nadia’s face and started pecking at her eyes with his black beak and talons.

  Nadia screamed. “GET OFF OF ME!” She swatted the air with her hands. After a few tries, she hit Carthel with the back of her hand.

  Carthel went flying into the wall. He sank slowly to the floor, his feathers out of place.

  Nadia grabbed her staff from the other side of the room and stood over Carthel. “I try to protect this family and all you do is disappoint me!” She wiped the blood off her cheek. He hadn’t pierced her eyes, but her cheeks had been badly scratched.

  Carthel was out of breath. “You…did not try…to protect…this…family,” Carthel wheezed, trying to regain himself. “You turned against Partha and Ren, and now they’re dead. You’re attacking their boy! And you hid Kevrin from me. You destroyed this family. At least Emilia has a heart…”

  Nadia thrust her sphere into Carthel’s body, ruffling his feathers even more.

  Carthel let out a groan.

  “Oh, you’re so pathetic. The mighty King Carthel, just a tiny black crow.” Nadia was smiling now. “You are useless.

  “Partha is dead and her sphere’s still out there. I will find it and I can use it. And instead of wasting the energy on you, I’ll use the boy’s power for myself, just like how Kala Karuge used Zalus’s powers all those years ago. I’ll be the most powerful sorceress—stronger than Emilia. I’ll bring peace to Astenpoole and the world. And after I’m done, I’ll make a cage just for you and keep you as my pet.” She laughed, pointing the sphere just under Carthel’s head.

  Carthel used his wings to push himself up. He lifted his head away from the sphere. “Nadia you’re out of control—”

  “No, Carthel. I am in control now. You do not speak unless I tell you to speak. You do not act unless I tell you to act. You will not talk to our son unless I let you.” She glared at him as her staff crushed him against the wall.

  Carthel looked up at her with his eyes. “Nadia, please—” he said weakly.

  “You’ll spend the rest of your life as a crow. You better get used to those wings of yours.”

  The sorceress gave a high laugh. She felt the energy flowing through her veins. She had never felt so alive. Taking Riago’s energy had made her feel something she hadn’t felt in years. “Now get back out there and find me that boy!”

  Chapter 36

  Piller

  THE CELL SMELLED of piss and sweat. The air was thick and humid, making breathing difficult. The lack of windows made the room a dark, claustrophobic box. The cries of babies could be heard, along with the soft comforts coming from their mothers. Piller had no choice but to listen as the sounds flowed through the bars of his cell.

  The cells were located in a dungeon deep below the northeastern tower in the Castle Keep. The only source of light came from two dim lanterns on both sides of the door at the end of the hall.

  The only door to freedom, thought Piller. But why do I want freedom when all I’ve done with it is fail? I’ve failed to protect my city, my king, my people, my family, my brothers—that little girl. I deserve to be locked away.

  He sat with his head between his knees. He had failed Hollow and Arnold. They had been so young. They had looked up to him as a leader, almost a fatherly figure. But he was no knight. A true knight would have been able to save them, like Galagar Poole, who had defeated three outlaws single-handedly. Piller couldn’t even defeat one. He just watched his brothers die. The frightened looks they had on their faces right before death had given Piller nightmares.

  His sympathy went out to the poor boy who Devan and he had dragged into the dungeon. Piller should have believed him. He should have went straight to Alana. He should have known it was Nadia who murdered Leoné. How could he have been so naïve? He was blinded by his duty, by orders. And now the boy was probably dead, hung by a rope.

  He wasn’t entirely sure how long he had been locked away. It could have been a couple of days, maybe a week. Piller let his head sink even lower. He rubbed his fingers through his sweaty hair.

  He let his thoughts drift back fourteen years to his first night on the Poolesguard. He had been so young, only twenty-three; barely older than Arnold and Hollow were. He remembered how brave and powerful he had felt roaming the busy streets of Astenpoole. His sword proudly at his side. Young boys stared at his shiny armor and looked up to him as if he was already a hero. Young women would give him looks he had never witnessed before, just for wearing the armor. He felt as if he had meaning and purpose in his life.

  His boots had tapped loudly on the cobblestone, making his presence known. He had felt taller than the Western Mountains.

  But it must not have been tall enough, he thought in reflection.

  “AHHH! HELP!” The little girl’s high-pitched screams were still fresh in his head after all these years. The screams had come from a dark alleyway off of Pooles Road in the Western Village. Piller sprinted towards the source.

  When Piller turned down the dark alleyway, towards the yelling, he found two rather large men surrounding a little girl.

  “Please! Leave me be! I just want to find my mother!” The girl screamed.

  A third man was constraining her arms behind her back. She must have been no more than seven. The little girl had long, black hair and chubby red cheeks. She was crying hysterically. When she saw the knight in shining armor come around the corner, she yelled for him. “Please, Sir Knight! Help me! Save me from these—”

  “Shut it, girl,” the man behind shook her violently to shut her up.

  The two men in front of the girl had turned around. All eyes were on Piller.

  The largest one, the one on the left, had been the first to speak. “Well look what we have here. A knight in shining armor. You’re a pretty boy, now aren’t you?” The man had dark brown hair on the sides and was balding on top. There was a crazy look in his eye. A look that Piller didn’t want to dig deep into. “Be gone with ya, pretty knight. This business is none of yours. Just us and this little girl here.” He turned to reach out towards the girl and rubbed her head as if she was his daughter. “We don’t be wantin’ any trouble.”

  The other two men smirked at this.

  Piller didn’t realize how much his legs were wobbling. He tried to control it, but it was no use. His heart was beating so loud he was sure the three men could hear it. He remembered how scared he had been. He easily could have walked away and turned his back. But he was a Knight of the Poolesguard now. Therefore, he drew his sword.

  The blade had made a pleasant sound as it left his scabbard on his left hip. He held the sword in front of his face. The steel was brand new, forged specifically for him at his initiation into the Poolesguard. Piller remembered it was like looking into a mirror. He remembered being able to see his reflection, his jagged scar staring back at him. His thoughts had drifted to his mother and father. This is for you, he remembered thinking.

  The three men had only laughed.

  “You think a lil’ bit of steel will scare us off?” The man on the left had said, still petting the girl’s head as he turned to his men. “A pretty knight, but a dumb one, too.”

  The other two men laughed.

  Piller had taken a step closer to the three men. “Step away from the girl!”

  “Ooo, not so pretty are you. Who gave you that scar, ugly?” The same man asked.

  “I said…step away!” Piller felt the blood rushing to his face.

  “Walk away. I already warned ya once.” The man’s hand tightened on the girl’s hair. “Don’t make it twice.”

  The girl screamed.

  “By the name of King Leoné, you three are under arrest.” Piller’s voice was shaky. It was not as powerful as he imagined it would be.

  “Ha! Arrest? For what crimes? We be just havin’ a little word with our niece here. Isn’t that right?” The man on the left said.

  “Yea Chitt, that
’s right. Just a word with our niece,” the man on the right replied.

  “Yep. Just a word with our niece, is all.” The man holding the girl’s arms from behind nodded with a stupid grin sewn across his face.

  “It seems this knight thinks we’re going to rape this poor girl,” the one named Chitt pointed out.

  “I think this be the dumbest knight I’ve seen. Raping a girl this age? By Zalus!” The man on the right spat at Piller’s boots. He took out a knife. “I say, Chitt, I think we should be teachin’ this knight some manners to mind his own business. What d’ya think?” He took a step towards Piller.

  “I think for once you be talkin’ some sense, Ky.” Chitt unsheathed a sword at his hip.

  “Don’t come any closer!” Piller’s voice bounced off the walls of the alleyway.

  But they didn’t listen. The two men stepped towards Piller.

  “Please! Sir Knight! Help—”

  “I said shut it!” the third man yelled at the screaming girl, tightening his bind around her.

  “Keep that girl quiet, Hem!” Chitt yelled back.

  Piller had taken this chance to charge. He collided into Chitt, knocking him to the ground. Piller rose to his feet to finish him off, raising his sword.

  “AH!” Piller had screamed out in pain. A knife dug deep into the gap of his back plate, behind his shoulder. He had spun around violently, swinging his sword, but Ky ducked underneath the deadly blow. Something smashed against the top of Piller’s head as he spun face first to the cobblestone road. His world went black.

  When he woke, several hours later, the back of his head was throbbing. He sat up on one elbow, placing a hand on the spot and felt a lump crusted in dried blood. The bump was so large it could be a second head. He couldn’t remember what had happened. His eyes glanced around. He was in a dark alleyway. It must have been close to early morning. He glanced over, noticing the body of a girl. He crawled towards her. There had been a puddle of blood surrounding her dead body. It looked like she had been stabbed in the stomach numerous times. Piller remembered looking at her fragile body. She looked so innocent and pure. She was ghostly white with blue, cold lips. Piller saw his sword by her side. He rose to his feet and picked it up. His new steel had been soaked red with blood.