“I…I don’t know.”
“I’m not. That I promise you.” The man paced again. “I’m here to give you an opportunity, not take anything from you. You are quite a lovely girl, I assure you. A little skinny for my tastes, but lovely nonetheless. Very much like your mother.”
Those words jolted me as much as anything else he’d said so far. And not just because he seemed intimately familiar with my family. I’d spent weeks being compared to my father over and over again. So much like the great Baron von Monocle! So stubborn, so rash, yet honorable! I could be him one day, as I’d been told many a time. But this was the first someone compared me to my mother. “How do you know her?”
“Liliana von Monocle…” he trailed off, voice longing for something I couldn’t put my finger on. He thumbed through his book once more before setting it down on a lamp stand. “That’s not important right now. We’re here to talk about you.”
“Me?” His responses to my questions jumped from topic to topic without any form of cogency. I was convinced more than ever that this man was mad as a goat.
“Yes, you. There’s a great opportunity, here and now. You have something I want, and I have the ability to make your life very comfortable…or quite the opposite.”
I frowned, annoyed. Why couldn’t he say what he wanted from me? Did nobility always have this aloof air to them? I thought back and recalled that King Malaky hadn’t rambled in tangents. Perhaps it had something to do with the strange dilation in the Wyranth’s eyes I’d seen so far. “What’s the opportunity?”
“Joining the Wyranth Empire, of course.”
It was my turn to laugh, and hard. How absurd! I could barely contain myself and found myself gasping for air soon after. “You have to be kidding me.”
The man frowned. “I assure you, Zaira von Monocle, this is no joking matter.”
“Why?”
He paused and stared at me again, as if studying me longer would give him a glimpse into my soul. He must have seen something as he clicked his tongue before continuing. “You don’t need to be eased into concepts. I see I must be forthright with you. I mentioned war, and ending wars. The von Monocle airship is a symbol of war, more than anything. It’s become the representation of all that is the Rislandia Kingdom. If that allegiance evaporated, if that word was circulated. Do you see how many deaths it could prevent?”
His thoughts hadn’t been as jumbled as I thought. Everything he said was completely true, but he must have known that I thought his proposition crazy. How, by Malaky, did this man expect that I could possibly join the Wyranth? After all the pain and heartache their empire had caused my family and friends, I could not be considered an ally. That didn’t even count the times Wyranth soldiers had tried to kill me proper.
That said, if he spoke truth, I could hasten the end of the war. It would sink the Rislandia Kingdom. They would lose their most effective weapon in my father’s airship, and that would embolden the Wyranth to snuff out our modest kingdom. It was my kingdom as much as anyone else who enjoyed a life in Rislandia. I happened to like it. “I’m flattered,” I said cautiously.
“Ahh, that’s a better reaction than I thought you might have. It’s a lot to think on, but you have an intelligence that few others could muster.” He brought a finger to his skull as if to exemplify it. “It’s the blood of the von Monocle, as I said before. This could prevent the deaths of thousands, Zaira. Is loyalty such a high price to pay for such a boon?” The man brought his pipe to his mouth once more, puffing.
He spoke of loyalty, though he asked me to betray my kingdom. Thousands of lives did mean a lot to me, and if I could keep those alive, I would. What he had forgotten in his pitch was that my being here meant more than allegiance to a kingdom. My fight was personal. My own fight, not my father’s, even though I took actions to rescue him. Still, I had to be cautious. I was a prisoner in enemy territory, with no one to back me up. “What would this loyalty entail?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.
The man set down his pipe across the ashtray on the end table. In an odd maneuver, he dropped to one knee in front of me and took my hand. His hands were cold, and skin soft. This man had never done a day’s field work in his life. “Marriage, my dear,” he said.
I nearly choked on my own breath. “What?” I recoiled my hand.
He didn’t pursue the touch, but stood again. “Don’t you see? A union of Wyranth and Rislandia. It would unify our countries, bring peace to the world.”
He was as loony as I thought. How could I even consider marrying some strange man in an enemy empire where I had been taken prisoner? This was no torture chamber, excepting for the tricks being played on my mind. He didn’t offer peace but, instead, lulled me into some strange thought process where I would do his and the Wyranth’s bidding. He’d picked the wrong farm girl for that. I smiled my sweetest, fake smile at him. “I would rather have my throat cut from ear to ear,” I said and made a gesture with my hand across my neck.
The man breathed in deeply through his nose, clearly angered. “A von Monocle through and through,” he said as if it were a curse. “Very well then.” He turned to the door. “Guard!”
The Wyranth soldier burst in and stared at me as if he were primed to follow through on the idea I’d just given the strange man. Once he saw I posed no threat to his master, he bowed. The pointy tip of his helmet reflected our warped images.
“Take her to her cell,” the man said. He turned away to face the book cabinet. “And send for a servant to clean up these books. Do tell them to take care with them Some of them are very old and worth a considerable amount.”
The guard rushed to the couch, grabbed me by the arm, and forced me to stand. My arm ached where he gripped me. I grunted at the jolt.
“Let’s go,” the guard said and pushed me toward the door.
I stumbled, then walked of my own volition.
“Oh, and Zaira,” the strange man said.
The guard gripped my shoulder and spun me back around. I shook off his hand, annoyed with the rough treatment.
Those deep blue eyes fixated on me again, the anger gone as soon as it had arrived. It was as if two men lived inside this one body, one ferocious and bursting out, the other keeping his darker side at bay. “Do think about it. This isn’t the last offer. You will have two more chances. Let it never be said I’m not a patient man. But after the third…well, I’m afraid I can’t vouch for the safety of your father. Do you understand?”
I paled. My father. This was the first real confirmation I had that he had survived after all, but that sweet news soured with the coupled threat. I could barely breathe. “I understand,” I said.
“Good,” the man said.
The guard pushed me again through the doorway, and I stumbled once more, bracing myself on the wall at the opposite side of the hallway. The guard shut the door behind me, then pulled his baton from a strap on his belt. “Move it,” he said.
I complied, but glanced back over my shoulder toward those ornate double doors where I had the strangest encounter of my life. “Who was that?” I asked the guard.
“You don’t know?” Shock filled the guard’s voice. “That was the Iron Emperor himself!”
Sometimes this ship feels like a cell. I used to be excited when we travelled on missions. Now I only feel loss.
An excerpt from Captain von Cravat’s log
Day 7 of the Month of Princes
17th Year of Malaky XVI’s Reign
The next time I awoke in the cell, I felt moisture on my face. My first thought was that the dripping sound found its way to the stone over my cot and formed a crack specifically to torture me. I winced and turned to my side, not ready to wake just yet. In the dungeon, no light shone through save for the small lamps in the hall so I had no ability to tell where I’d slept long enough. My grogginess told me I could afford to fall back asleep for a while longer. It wasn’t as if I had pressing matters to attend to.
From my new position, the cool
moisture touched my face once more. Someone had to be playing a prank on me, the prison guard? This time, it didn’t feel like a drop of water at all. The moisture I felt had a solid component to it. I flipped from my side to my back and raised my head a little. Then I opened my eyes. In the dim light of the torches that lined the hall, I saw a silhouette on the bed. A ferret.
“Toby!” I said. His name echoed down the hall. I brought my voice to a whisper. “Toby,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around him and squeezing him. “How did you get here?”
My ferret nuzzled against me as if attempting to dig into me. He loved me, and I loved him.
I noticed something he had brought with him, dropped on my cot next to me like a present. It glimmered in the dark room. Toby must have picked it up because it was shiny. I grabbed the item—Talyen’s pen.
I remembered seeing that very pen in her quarters before we departed the Liliana. Talyen wanted to chronicle every detail of our adventures so, of course, she would have kept it in her pack when out on our mission. Toby had rummaged through the same store room since he had stowed away in my pack. He must have found it while digging around. The rascal. Always getting into things he shouldn’t.
The pen brought me more hope than I could have imagined, laying there in that bleak cell without any possibility of escape. I looked around for something to write on. The guards hadn’t given us any amenities like paper. Chronicling my days wouldn’t do me much good even if they had. I crinkled my nose as I thought of how I could utilize this gift. My cot’s sheet! It was white like paper. That gave me a clue of what to do. I could write a message. But then what?
Toby nuzzled more.
“Do you think this will work, Toby? This was your idea.”
Toby stopped, as if considering. He sniffed the air, then jumped off my cot. Next, he skittered around the dungeon floor in circles like a crazed animal.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, but that gave me the second part of the idea that could make this writing thing work. Toby could get through the bars. He could run around this entire dungeon without being noticed. That meant I could get messages back and forth with some of the crew, as long as he cooperated. “Great idea, Toby,” I whispered.
While he continued his energetic run around, I tapped the pen to the corner of the sheet. Toby crawled onto my lap a moment later. What should I write? Something simple, no doubt. In big letters, I scrawled:
Hello. I’m stuck in a cell, and it would be nice to hear from someone.
Nothing profound, but it would establish a dialogue with someone else in the dungeon. I longed to hear from anyone on the airship. It had only been a couple of days of being alone, save for the chat with the Iron Emperor, which I didn’t count as company. I’d been used to solitude before on the farm but never so confined like this. I’d always had the options of running over to the Gentry’s or other neighbors if I needed anything, even a chat
I told myself to stop thinking about it, lest I go crazy. I had this hope of correspondence now, and that’s what I’d focus on. I took the sheet between my teeth, unable to tear it another way. The sheet ripped as I chewed through it. The chewing didn’t create the cleanest cut but it would do. I wrapped the scrap of sheet around the pen, and tucked it into Toby’s collar.
Booted footsteps pounded down the hall. I couldn’t let them see Toby or find my attempts to communicate with the others. “Shh,” I said to Toby and buried him under the sheet to hide him.
The guard appeared a few moments later, baton in hand.
I spun to face him, hands on my knees as I sat on the cot. I scooted in front of where Toby hid so as to obscure the strange bulge under the sheet. The darkness helped matters, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
“Come on,” the guard said. He unlocked the cell and opened the door.
I slid off the cot. The stone floor under my feet was freezing, but I did not protest. He meant to take me to the Iron Emperor’s company, the same as yesterday. Without the fear of the unknown, it didn’t seem so bad.
“What are you smiling about, prisoner?”
“Nothing, nothing at all,” I said, holding my head proudly as I exited the cell. Seeing Toby gave me an odd sense of bravery. I would survive this. We would survive this.
Fear didn’t grip me at all during the walk to the palace. I felt a renewed urge to fight. If this was the worst they would throw at me, nothing could stop me. My will was stronger than iron. Stronger than the Iron Emperor. Was this what it meant to have the blood of a von Monocle coursing through me?
When the guard opened the doors to the palace study, I saw the Iron Emperor had already seated himself, smoking his pipe and reading a book. He read a different book today, and I couldn’t see the title from the angle he held it.
I stepped in. The door closed behind me. I carefully moved to the couch. Only when I seated myself did the emperor glance up from his book. “Zaira, you should have some courtesy and bow before your betters.”
“I do bow before my betters,” I said with defiance. Perhaps my newfound confidence was too much, but it felt good to not follow his commands.
The Iron Emperor slammed the book shut. His face became grave, much more serious than I’d seen before. He stood and leaned over me, face close to mine. His hot breath lingered on my face. “Girl, I think you may have misunderstood me yesterday. I have patience. I’m willing to wait to get what I want, but I will not suffer indignation.”
Then he raised his hand and backhanded me across the face.
The hit stung, but not as badly as I would have expected. It still left my mouth agape. The move left me more shocked than anything. The confidence I had just gained drained from me. Yesterday he had acted like such a gentleman, though eccentric to say the least. But to use brute force?
Fear came back to me as I recalled the stories of torture I had been warned about. I recoiled on the couch, trying to distance myself from him, but the Iron Emperor still loomed over me.
“Well, girl? Bow. To. Me.” His voice pierced like ice. He leaned back to give me space to compile with his demand.
I met his eyes. Those beautiful eyes had a different quality to them today. Dilated hard, like his soldiers I had come across. This was not a man in control of himself. I didn’t want to bow to him, to show him that subservience. I couldn’t do it. It would have made me a traitor to Rislandia, to my father. “Get away from me, you monster!” I blurted out of fear.
The Iron Emperor brought his hand up as if he were going to strike me again. He stared, then lowered his hand and blew a puff of smoke. “Disappointing, it really is. Here I thought we could make progress, person to person. There are very few who understand positions of power, Zaira, how they operate, how they feed off one another. I thought you did. I see I was wrong.”
All I could do was sit there frozen. Did his moods change so drastically? How could he go back to his philosophizing? I sat on the couch before a madman. That was the only explanation. He had two sides to him: the harsh, Iron Emperor part, and then this man, the eccentric thinker. What could analyzing him accomplish, though? Now more than ever, I needed to figure a way to escape before he did more damage than a cheek that smarted. A von Monocle would find a way out. I hoped some of my father’s luck still dwelt within me.
I scrambled to my feet, ready to bolt on first notice.
The Iron Emperor shook his head, making a tsk noise. “Zaira, even if you were to make it out of here and past the guard in the hall, this is my domicile. Where do you expect to go?”
He was right. After a hard glance around, there was no means of escape. The double doors behind me were the only way in or out of the room unless he had some hidden passage in the bookshelf. That was a silly thought since I had no idea where a passage would be if there was one. Even if I found one, I wouldn’t be able to overpower the man in front of me. “Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“I am protecting my empire, Zaira. Mark my words, it gives me no joy to bring you pain. Qui
te the opposite. My end goal is to have you join me, I’ve told you as much,” he said, stepping to me again. This time, he softly placed his hand on the cheek he had just struck, caressing as if I was a porcelain doll. I tried not to recoil, but I couldn’t help but flinch at his cold touch. “I don’t wish to hurt you, Zaira. You know that. Have you given thought to our discussions yesterday?”
“About subjugating empires?” I asked, trying not to sound too biting.
“Of marriage. The concept is more important than you realize. It’s not just the joining of our peoples in a way that would end the war. The Wyranth Empire has no lady empress, nor does it have an heir.” His finger traced down my neck and my arm, all the way to my hand where he took it into his. “I find that solution would be enjoyable as I find, for some strange reason, that I like you.”
I stayed quiet. Did he expect that I should thank him for that?
He considered me for a moment, reading me as he had done the day before. “I don’t know if you are aware of our laws, but the empress would be second only to me. You would be able to control policy, control the entire empire. You understand what a gift I am offering you?”
If I thought he was mad before, it was nothing compared to now. Did he think I longed for that sort of power? Despite his beautiful eyes, I found him repulsive. Though in some ways, his idea did give me pause. Wouldn’t accepting and bringing peace be a worthy thing to do? Could I sacrifice myself for the good of everyone like that? Would it even be for everyone’s good?
No. As much as he tried to tempt me, he would still be in charge. I would be second. The offer sounded slick, but he would be able to countermand everything I attempted to do. It would be as useless as my attempting to escape this room. It would serve the same purpose as my defecting, to demoralize Rislandia’s army, make the invasion easier. He had said he wanted as much yesterday, and he’d use whatever means it took to achieve that. This man viewed everything as a battle.
For Steam and Country: Book One of the Adventures of Baron Von Monocle Page 19