by J. C. Ahmed
“I can't do it, Malthus,” Aimee continued to sob. “Why should you die instead of me?”
“Because I love you, Aimee,” he said. Liralexa felt an arrow strike her in the back. She stood frozen, eyes and mouth wide open. A bell rang. The sound became louder and louder.
Liralexa woke with sweat soaking her night clothes. She ignored the breakfast bell and thought about Jack’s words. It was her parents or hundreds. Twelve kids each from three regions. That was thirty-six in one day. If her parents died, they would live. After all, she would be queen and could demand they be spared. She could ban the Strages and turn the loathsome murder scene into a memorial to those she couldn't save. Alma entered the room and noticed Liralexa’s soaking nightgown.
“Are you well, Your Highness?” she asked.
“I'm very well,” Liralexa smiled.
Liralexa raced through her lessons and begged Aldrin to let her finish early. Her parents were attending an event in Golden City, so once again he unhappily obliged. She packed her bag, then headed for the Step Region. No one was there when she arrived, but she expected that and had prepared for it. When she sat on the log she always shared with Malthus, a flood of loneliness swept over her. Humming filled her ears and her heart pounded as a riptide of despair pulled her down. Drowning and gasping for air, she lifted her eyes toward the swimming sky, before falling to the ground and curling up into the fetal position. The buzzing in her ears intensified, the invisible hand squeezing her heart tightened its grip, and prickles stabbed her fingers. She hugged her knees to her chest until the tremor rocking her body ceased.
“Pull yourself together, Liralexa. Pull yourself together. Malthus and Aimee need you. Their lives depend on you.” Her body shot up at the shocking realization. “Wait, their lives depend on me? What if I fail? What if I fail?” She slowly drank in the cool autumn air. “Just get ready. Don't think too much about what you must do? Just get ready.”
Pulling in long deep breaths, she reached for her bag. For the first part of her disguise, she tied her hair into a messy bun and pulled a wool cap over her head. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out her mirror. Just in case a palace representative happened to be wandering around Vallerton, she wanted to be unrecognizable. She applied heavy make-up to her face and turned up the collar on her dress to hide her golden birthmark. Satisfied no one would recognize her, she made her way toward Vallerton. Heads turned as the odd looking young woman entered the town. She was so focused on the beggars, she barely noticed. There was so much she didn’t know about the world and the kingdom she was to rule some day. Her ignorance frightened her.
“Can ya spare a penny or two, miss,” a small boy in ragged clothes asked.
“I have no money. I am so sorry.”
“Ya speak posh an ‘ave no money, miss?”
“I'm afraid not.”
Liralexa wandered aimlessly staring up at the colorful and narrow three to five-story buildings lining the street. The blue, yellow, pink, lime, orange and other paint colors used to be bright and vibrant but they had dulled after years of neglect. Having never been in a town before, she was confused and overwhelmed by the crowds, noise and activity around her. She thought finding the door to Aldrin’s home was tough. This seemed impossible. The long arm of despair reached for her again. Just as it was about to grab hold a voice sent it scurrying back to its lair. She snapped out of her daze and stared confusedly at a man in a gray waistcoat, black cap and red shirt. He rolled up his sleeves.
“Do you need help, miss?” the fruit seller repeated.
“What?” she asked, as she shook off the horrible feeling of disconnectedness.
“Do you need help?” he repeated for a third time, with extra emphasis on each word.
“Do you know a boy named Jack?”
“I know a few.”
“The one I need to see is the mayor’s son.”
“The mayor's house?” He took off his cap and scratched his head. “Ah, sorry lass, I don't remember the street. Keep askin’ people. Someone’ll know.”
Liralexa thought this was a wonderful idea. Her spirits lifted. She pushed through the crowd calling out to everyone she passed.
“Please, do you know where the mayor lives?”
“The mayor?” she heard someone call. “Is that what you said?” She turned to see an elderly hunched woman in a black shawl seated on a chair in front of the bakery.
“Do you know where the mayor lives?”
“Yes, on Hill Street. Two streets that way.” The woman pointed. “You'll see a sign.”
“A sign for what?”
“A sign with the street name.”
“Oh, that’s very handy. What a good idea!”
“They don’t have street signs where you’re from, love?”
“Well, no, actually.”
“You’re from the country then.”
Liralexa had forgotten she was undercover and realized she needed to be more cautious.
“Yes, I am from the country. Definitely!”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. She lifted a monocle to examine her young interlocutor.
“Do you know the number for the house?” Liralexa asked, with a tinge of nervousness in her voice.
“That I don’t. Ask around when you get there.”
Liralexa felt like she was walking on air as she headed toward Hill Street. Overwhelming uncertainty had turned into confidence. She would find Jack and together they would save Malthus and Aimee.
“Which is the mayor’s house,” she asked a man cleaning the windows of a tavern.
“205, that way.” He pointed, without ever looking at her.
Liralexa went up the hill at a snail-like pace, examining the number on each door as she went. She clapped her hands and jumped for joy when she reached number 205. Passersby side-eyed her. After curling her hand into a fist in preparation for rapping on the door, she noticed the brass lion head knocker. She stared intently at it and wondered what it was. Assuming it was used to knock on the door, she grabbed hold. Woodpecker-like drumming filled the house.
Jack’s grieving mother was seated at a desk, writing a letter. The persistent knocking sent her to the window. “Whatever is going on?”
“I’ll see who it is, ma’am,” the housekeeper called. “Coming! Coming!”
Liralexa was still knocking when the housekeeper, wiping her hands on her apron, bustled toward the door. Her head jerked back when she caught sight of the visitor.
“May I speak to Jack, please?”
The housekeeper, a tall, lean woman with a stern countenance, looked the strange girl up and down, as she pushed stray strands of gray hair under a white cap.
“That ridiculous face doesn’t go with such a pretty frock.”
Liralexa stared agape as the curious servant continued to examine her.
“Jack, there’s a girl here to see you,” she shouted up the stairs.
“Who is it?”
“An odd looking girl. I think a clown did her make-up.”
Jack raised his eyebrows, then rushed so fast out of his small room, he crashed against a newel post and let out a pained high-pitched yelp, which startled Liralexa. The housekeeper shook her head. His feet made a rhythmic tapping on the wooden stairs as he raced toward the front door. He grabbed Liralexa’s arm.
“Let’s go,” he mumbled. The housekeeper gazed at them until they disappeared into the crowd. “You look unrecognizable.”
“Well, yes, that is the point.”
He pulled her through the crowd, then pushed her into an alleyway.
“I assume you’re here to help.”
“Yes.”
“So, you’ll do it?” he asked, in a low voice. “It has to happen tomorrow.”
“Yes, I’ll do it.”
“Let’s go then.”
“Where are we going?”
“To see a man who can make it happen.”
They turned a corner and arrived at a lime green door. Jack lifted the knocker and gave it two loud ra
ps. Liralexa’s face turned beetroot red when she realized how it was supposed to be used. A man with short wavy brown hair, a fit frame and leery expression answered the door. Before he could say a word, Anton brushed past.
“Is this who I think it is?”
“Get inside, now!” the man ordered.
Jack pulled Liralexa inside. Her eyes bounced around the tiny living room.
“Everything is so small in the Step Region,” she mused.
“Is this the princess?” the man asked.
“Yes,” Jack said. “This is Anton’s older brother Matt.”
“Nice to meet you,” Liralexa said.
“Are you here to help us?” Matt asked, in a steely but hopeful tone. He was a man bent on revenge and here was his means to get it. Liralexa took a long deep breath to help calm her nerves.
“May I wash this off?” she asked pointing to her face. The make-up made her feel foolish.
“There’s warm water over the fire,” he told Anton. They went to the kitchen and sat at the table.
“Princess, we don't have much time.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“Ambush your family as you travel to the Strages.”
Anton set a basin of water and a towel in front of Liralexa. Scrubbing the make-up off her face served as a distraction while she gathered herself together. What she was about to do seemed reckless and insane. Matt’s gaze never left her face. As she dried it with a towel, she thought of Malthus. What he was feeling and going through, she couldn’t even imagine. She sat up straight with a look of determination.
“How many attackers?” she asked.
“How many do we need?”
“We’re protected by fifty soldiers.”
“Fifty!” Anton yelled.
“Can you not do it?” Liralexa asked.
Her voice trembled. Matt noticed. He was paying attention to every tonal shift in her voice, her body language and her facial expressions.
“I can arrange forty fighters. With the element of surprise on our side that should do. The question is where to attack.”
Liralexa reached into her bag and pulled out a map she had painstakingly drawn. Matt was very impressed as she laid it on the table. He didn’t know whether he could trust her to go through with it but the detailed map showed she had put thought into the mission and was taking it seriously.
“This is where you will come through the portal. This is our route. There’s a clearing here but then the trees become thick here. We'll turn a corner here.” She pointed to different locations on the map as she spoke while Matt took notes. “The road is narrow right after the turn. We call it the Narrowing. You can block us from going forward easily. Up to this point, the hills gently rise and fall and the road twists and turns. Once we get through the Narrowing, it’s a steep and open road. It would be easy for us to gallop away from the attack at that point.”
“How do we do this without hurting Liralexa?” Jack asked.
“The men and women in my group are skilled hunters. They'll get the prey and not harm a hair on her head. When do you leave, Princess?”
“A little after ten thirty.”
“If we get there early and get into position, how likely is it we’ll be seen?”
“It's highly unlikely, I would think. Crime is almost unheard-of in the Golden Region. They won't be prepared for trouble.”
“So, if there's no crime, why have fifty soldiers?” Matt bellowed.
“To feel important.”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Of course!”
No one spoke as he studied the map. Satisfied with the plan forming in his mind, he folded it and stood up. “Take her back to the portal before it gets too late.”
Lost in his thoughts, he left the house without saying goodbye. Anton pulled a cape with a hood off a hook in the hallway.
“Put this on,” he told Liralexa.
He tied the ribbon around her collar to make sure her golden stripe was well hidden, then led her outside. They looked up and down the street.
“Walk with your head down,” Jack warned. “We don’t want anyone to recognize you.”
Anton and Jack stood by her side and locked arms with her. She kept her eyes fixed on the cracks in the sidewalk as they led her through the bustling crowd.
“There's plenty of crime here,” Jack said. “Thankfully nothing happened to you.”
Liralexa never had to think about danger before. Fear of personal harm was a new and unpleasant feeling.
There would be no escape from fear, panic and regret for the rest of the day. Liralexa’s mind was in disarray, a mad swirl of doubt, dread and misgiving. What if something went wrong? What if they figured out she was part of the conspiracy? Would she miss her parents? She wandered around the house, orchard and woods in a nervous stupor. Hope voiced his confidence.
“All will be well,” he pronounced. But she didn’t have faith in him anymore.
“Away with you!” she scoffed, whenever he whispered his words of comfort.
“That’s unfair,” he protested.
“You let me down when you told me all was well with Malthus.”
“I know I’m not always honest but—” he began.
“I won’t listen,” she interjected.
“But the universal powers have decreed…” he tried to explain.
“Away with you, scallywag.”
Feeling offended and rejected, he left her to her wretchedness. Her head hurt. Her heart hurt. Everything hurt. Life hurt. She lay on her bed holding an old stuffed doll her grandmother Lexa had given her.
“Why does it have to hurt so much?” she asked the doll.
It stared at her, seemingly disinterested in her problems.
“Oh, to exist without consciousness,” Liralexa mused. “Numb existence! How pleasant to consider such a thing.”
Like a vampire sucking out everything which makes their prey human, hopelessness was sucking away her desire to think and feel. Day finally yielded to the inky pall of darkness. The night enwrapped the light in much the same way gloom had enshrouded the young royal’s happiness.
“All will be well,” Hope whispered, as she drifted off to sleep. She had slipped too far into unconsciousness to argue.
While Liralexa was wandering aimlessly around Vallerton looking for Jack, the thirty-six unwilling participants scheduled to fight in the Strages were being removed from their cells for transport to a holding area at the stadium. Once again, they were hitched together and taken along a bustling street. Malthus burned with humiliation as people gawked. Shock registered on his face as they approached a large gathering of people with distinctive golden neck markings. Many held protest signs. The voice of an elderly woman rang out.
“They’re just babies. How can you be so cruel to babies?”
“The Strages are a stain on our beautiful kingdom,” a man called out.
“This is not how civilized people treat each other,” another voice roared.
“These children are not our enemies. They are our brothers and sisters.”
Dozens of prison guards pushed against the hostile crowd to clear a path for the prisoners. Malthus went momentarily blank with confusion. The cogs in his brain couldn't move fast enough to process what was going on around him. He thought all natives of the Golden Region were spoilt and lazy do-nothings who unquestioningly supported their doting benefactors. The last thing he expected was condemnation of the king and queen from their golden necked compatriots. After several scuffles and arguments, the guards got the prisoners through the stadium gates.
The captives were split up based on the paint color on their foreheads. The boys and girls from each group were put into neighboring cells. Just like in the prison, the cells with stone walls and floors were empty.
“They couldn't provide even minimal comforts on the last day of our lives,” Malthus thought bitterly.
The seven boys sat on the floor barely talking to each other. Their heads turned when
they heard the click of a key in the cell next door. In the hours that followed, Malthus could hear the agonized screams of Aimee and the other girls. Several boys covered their ears trying to block out their harrowing cries. Malthus cried bitter tears as he heard one of his best friends scream for someone to come save her.
Many times, he desperately screamed, “Stop! Please stop!” The cries of the abused girls went on for much of the night as new guards came on duty.
Chapter Twelv e
“I've killed
Watched life fade from a body
The blood sickened me
As I brought down the knife
With all the strength in my being
Til the light in his eyes went out completely”
— Journal entry by Liralexa Abbingdon
Governor West, Deputy Governor Regus, and Mayor Kelker were unaware Matt Regus had brought together a group of would be rebels. Forty angry men and women were willing to put their lives on the line to send a message to the king and queen. Matt was a known firebrand, but no one thought he would ever act on his words. The portals guaranteed any action taken against the crown would be suicidal.
Matt was only twenty-three, old enough to remember the rule of King Artis and Queen Lira and young enough to believe he could change the world. Those were good days, he liked to tell the younger ones. The Golden Region bought rather than demanded food from the Step Region. Most of the revenue from the taxation of goods and travelers was sent to the subject regions. The Step Region received funds to pay for assistance to farmers, and to support cottage industries. Roads were paved and buildings were repaired thanks to improvement funds sent by the king and queen. That changed when King Cameron and Queen Stella came to power. They increased taxes on the regions but eliminated assistance to them. The Step Region had been falling into despair and disrepair ever since.
When Liralexa was brought to him, Matt considered the possibility of entrapment. Maybe the king and queen were privy to the existence of his inchoate band of rebels. But he was willing to take that risk. He felt he had no choice. Malthus was a close friend and Aimee was his cousin. He had lost his younger brother at the Strages five years before. He wanted vengeance and Liralexa was his chance to get it.