A Poisoned Land (Book 1: Faith, Lies and Blue Eyes)

by Craig P Roberts

  “I can see your feet you know,” a young voice called from where the white figure crouched. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to fill with water. I can hear a channel. Is this a moisture farm tunnel under here?”

  She believed his words but still something stopped her from talking. What are the right words to say? “I’m Shan,” she blurted.

  “Hello, Shan,” he said with a sniffing laugh through his nose. “Can you help me fill my skins so my duneback and I can have a drink?”

  The handsome face appeared around the rock. His teeth glowed as white as the cotton he wore. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, but resisted, as she was sure she would have seemed mad.

  “Y-yes, I can fill your skins for you. I forgot to fill mine anyway,” she said, as a strange bashful laugh slipped from her mouth. What was that snort for? You didn’t say anything funny, you dimwit, she told herself off in her head.

  She avoided speaking as he collected his skins from the duneback and handed them to her for refilling. The climb back down into the darkness below gave her a chance to gather her thoughts. There was never normally anybody walking in the desert, never mind a handsome boy with blue eyes.

  You rude bitch, she said to herself. You didn’t even ask him his name. And that was the first thing she did after the climb back up to the surface. “I said my name was Shan, then I realized I hadn’t asked your name. So I was wondering, if you wanted to tell me, what is your—”

  The boy sniggered and said, “Romarus.”

  Romarus is a nice name, she thought with a smile. Wait…King Romarus? “King Romarus?” she blurted out.

  “King.” He nodded, then grinned.

  She knelt. What do I say to a king? “How is Queen Londenia? No, wait. Forgive my rudeness. I didn’t mean to ask…Here’s your water…Your Grace.” She handed him the three skins, bowing her head.

  King Romarus’s hand lifted her chin, and he gave a smile. “As far as I know, Queen Londenia is well. And thanks for the water.”

  Are all kings this friendly? Shan’s father often spoke of the cruelty in some of the other kingdoms. “In the Peak Kingdom, they stone people to death for stealing,” he told her once, after she pinched a sweet-ball from a market stall in the village. Her father also told her regularly that her blue eyes were very special. “In First Kingdom, the rest of us would have been little more than slaves, simply because of our brown eyes, my sweet blue-eyed girl.” Perhaps we are lucky in Last Kingdom to have such a kind king.

  “Why are you still kneeling?” asked King Romarus.

  What do I say? “Because you’re my king and I thought you would want me to,” she said, rising.

  “I don’t want anybody to kneel to me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He looked annoyed. “Please don’t say sorry,” uttered the king, “I hate it when girls think they need to say sorry to me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Shit, I can’t stop.

  King Romarus looked at her, half smiled and shook his head. “Do you live near here? I’d quite like to have a bed to sleep in for one night. It’s been ages since I slept in a proper bed.”

  “No…I mean…yes. Well, no.”

  “What is it then? Yes or no?” He widened his eyes, dimples forming around his mouth as he held his toothy smile.

  “No, I live far from here. Well, it would take us well into the night to walk. But there is a shelter I plan to sleep in overnight. You can share the bed with me there.”

  “How many years do you have?” the king asked.

  “I have fourteen years, Your Grace.”

  He shook his head. “Then I shouldn’t share a bed with you. I’ll pitch my tent outside this place and we’ll go to your home in the morning. Is that okay?”

  He asks me? “My father would be honored to receive the king…you…I mean…yes, that would be…great.” Somehow, she was out of breath as if she had just sprinted a thousand footfalls. She smiled.

  They both rode on King Romarus’s duneback. She wrapped her arms around him as they sloped from side to side through the sea of sand. His body felt hard through the white cotton. She counted the muscles on his stomach. Six, I think. She had never seen a boy with muscles on his stomach before. It was obvious by the way the fitted white cotton gripped his arms, that they were muscular for his size too.

  “So do you wander the desert alone a lot, Shan?” he asked.

  She liked it when he said her name. “Yes…well I don’t just wander. I have a job to do. My father sends me out to clear any blockages in the channels and to check they haven’t become soiled.”

  “Is it not a bit dangerous for a little girl out here?”

  He thinks I’m a little girl. Her heart sank. Leaning forward, she pressed her chest against his back. I’m not a little girl. “It’s only dangerous if I’m stupid. I know how to survive and usually there’s not anybody else around. Sand can’t hurt me.”

  The king didn’t seem to take any notice of her attempts at proving her womanhood to him. “Fair enough. You seem to know how to live out here. And you’ve definitely helped me.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, Your Grace…Why are you out here alone? We heard the kings had all been called to the Still Cities—”

  “—You don’t have to say, ‘Your Grace’. And, we were called to the Still Cities but there were…problems when we got to the Watch Kingdom.” His head dropped for a moment and she felt him take a large sigh. “But now I’m here trying find somebody. I promised a…friend that I would find his son.”

  “And how are you going to find one person in a land so big? Do you know where he is?” she asked, worried she was perhaps asking too many questions of a king.

  “I have no idea where he is, but I ask everywhere I go. When I stopped again in Hal Tal on my way back from the Watch Kingdom I—”

  “—You’ve been in Hal’s Forest?” she interrupted. “What are the hackle trees like? And did you see tribes?” Shut up, Shan. Now you are asking too many questions.

  “Yes, I’ve seen it, they are big and blue, and yes, I saw some. Does that answer all of your questions?” he said, with what she assumed was another dimple-causing smile, but it was only a guess, since she could only see the back of his head.

  “Sorry, I know I talk too much. My father says I do.”

  “It’s fine. I like your voice,” said the perfect king. She admired the brown hair on the back of his head.

  “It’ll be getting dark soon. We are only about an hour’s ride away from the shelter. I think we’ll make it before dark,” said Shan, as the sun began to drop low in the sky.

  “I can see well in the dark. I’m guessing you do too.”

  He’s noticed my eyes. She smiled. “Yes, another reason I am very good at maintaining the channels underground. Although we can see well in the dark, so can the sand cats.” She had only ever encountered a sand cat once, when she was stupid enough to stay out in the open after sunset. She didn’t intend to see her handsome new king-friend torn to pieces by one of the big black beasts.

  “True! I’ve never seen one before, but my father’s father kept one as a pet. My father—”

  “—Locutus,” she jumped in. Why did you say that, you idiot? He obviously knows who is father is…was.

  He laughed. “You know a lot about me. But yeah, my father told me about the size of its front teeth. Two massive ones, the length of its head!”

  As the sun edged the horizon, they continued to talk of the desert. Romarus told her of King Stewart and how he was now searching for his son, Prince Baskerville. He talked of how Queen Londenia did her hair and all the things she painted on her face.

  She sounds so beautiful and gracious.

  He also spoke of his new wife, Bostonia, who was the queen’s younger sister. She was mentioned lots. Every second thing the king said seemed to be something to do with Bostonia. “I’ve felt like shit ever since I left her behind in Deca’Herem. She shouted at me when I told her she had to stay behin
d. I always used to let her down…all the fucking time.” His jaw was tight. “If I had to spend time at court, she would cry all day because I was ignoring her.” The king’s grip tightened on the reigns, his knuckles turning white.

  Shan tried to calm him, saying, “But surely a king can’t miss court.”

  He shook his head. “No, I mean I let her down all the time though…not just with that. She’d shout at me before we went to sleep at night, telling me I didn’t pay enough attention to her, or that I didn’t listen to her. I tried though. Any time I was free I’d spend with her and we’d talk. But I still just fucked things up. I just want to see her again. She could be with child and I don’t even know.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Bostonia sounds like a bitch and you deserve better, she thought. Shan dared not speak her mind.

  They saw the shelter in the distance: an orange block, in a sea of yellow sand, backlit by the red waning sky. Her father had found the ancient ruin a few years ago. He put a new wooden door on the small structure. It was now her little bubble away from the harsh desert. Pulling up next to the structure, they hopped off the duneback. Romarus stared at the many crudely painted faces on the sandy walls. “Why are there faces painted everywhere? They were on the rocks where we met too.”

  Should you not know if you’re King of Last Kingdom? “My father told me that this shelter is over a thousand years old. These paintings were by the Draytians that lived here in the Chaos Age. The drawings on the rocks, where we met, were their gods…false gods. But these faces,” she explained, pointing at the ancient marks, “aren’t meant to represent their gods. They are the guardians of this dwelling. The Draytian people painted them on their houses to ward off evil spirits.”

  The king ran his fingertips over the ancient brown and red paint strokes. “There’s something like fifty faces here. They all have brown eyes. None of them are blue-sighted.”

  “They were painted before the true gods mixed their blood with mortals to create ones like us…before the Gods’ Age and the Great Poison. So blue eyes wouldn’t have existed then.” With Romarus distracted she attempted again to have him share the little room with her, asking, “Won’t you come and share my bed, Your Grace? I feel safe with you close. If it pleases you, of course.”

  “Stop calling me ‘Your Grace’. And I can’t, sorry. It wouldn’t be right.”

  Ten Gods, Shan! You have a king apologizing to you! Stop being so pushy! “Forgive me. You should not have to say sorry to the likes of me.” She bowed her head, remembering her place.

  “There’s nothing to forgive. But don’t worry, I’ll pitch my tent around the door so I’ll be close,” the king said, pulling sacks off the duneback. She went inside, closing the door behind her. The room was dark until she lit the torch sticking out of the wall. Its orange flickering glow danced on the small bed in the corner and the store cupboard opposite. Shan sat on the edge of the bed, trying to take in the events of the last half-day.

  She heard Romarus building his tent through the thin wooden door. I should go out and ask if he needs help. No! I should prepare a meal. There was dried meat in the store cupboard and powders of stock to make soup. She filled a pot with water from her skin and hung it from a hook dangling from the roof above the flaming torch on the wall. As it came to a bubble, she poured some into two metal cups and added the salty powder. Her mother had ground up lots of spices and bones which added so much flavor to the water, you would think you were drinking freshly made broth.

  The door to the small shelter creaked open and King Romarus slipped in. “What smells so good?”

  “I’ve made soup and there’s meat if you like.” She exaggerated the status of the powdery water she had just mixed up, but the smell was inviting. “Have a seat.” You don’t have to offer him a seat! He’s a king. He can decide if he wants to sit on the bed or not, she told herself off.

  He let out a groan like the sound an old man makes getting out of a chair. Strangely, he sat on the floor and leaned back against the side of the bed. She handed him a metal cup of the steaming stock. Romarus wrapped his hands around it for warmth as the desert outside began to cool in the dark of night. The king rolled his shoulders and neck.

  “I can rub your shoulders for you…if you like. I can make your neck feel better. It was a long duneback ride, so you’re bound to be—”

  “—That would be great, thank you.” He sighed, leaning forward.

  She sat behind him and he leaned back against the bed. Her feet were on either side of his thighs. Her hands touched the cotton of his clothes and her thumbs slipped under the hood. His shoulders were solid like a rock, so she started gently. A groan from him made her giggle.

  “What’s so funny?” He sniggered with her.

  “Nothing. I just thought you sounded like a happy cat.”

  To this, he shook his head with what she hoped was a smile on his face.

  There was silence after that, but gradually she felt his shoulders and neck loosen. She worked higher on his neck, up into his hair. Shan leaned in close and saw how well cut and groomed it was. I really hope he can’t see how close my head is right now.

  Romarus broke the silence. “Tell me about your home and who you live with.” His voice sounded relaxed, as if he were about to fall asleep.

  “We live just outside your village of Sal’Merel. You know where the well is just outside of the town pillars?” she asked, expecting the king to know his lands.

  He laughed nervously. “Well, I’ve never been to Sal’Merel. My father had…I think. Is it nice?”

  It’s weird that you rule somewhere you have never been but I suppose Last Kingdom is a very large place with lots of empty spaces! “It’s a beautiful place. My father and his father before him have created a place of green in the middle of the desert. They run their underground channels under the village, making the ground wet and trees grow there.”

  “It sounds nice. So does your father use nets to catch mist as well as the underground things?”

  You don’t know much about your own kingdom, do you? “No, Sal’Merel is thousands of thousands of footfalls from the coast. Only the moisture farmers around the sea use the nets you talk about. I’ve never seen them though. But my father has hundreds and hundreds of leagues of tunnels that spread out over nearly an eighth of Last Kingdom…your kingdom.” She smiled, even though he couldn’t see her as he sat on the floor. Her thumbs began to ache from rubbing the king’s shoulders.

  “What is your father’s name? I must know him. I’m guessing he’s one of my lords because you’ve got…” Romarus turned his head and pointed at her blue eyes.

  “His name is Polo and he is no lord. His eyes aren’t blue and neither are my mother’s.” She always knew she was different. She was the miracle mortal. A blue-sighted girl, born from two brown-eyed parents. If one of them were of blue-sight she would be called a hybrid, but there wasn’t even a word for the likes of her. Her blue eyes meant she would likely outlive everybody in her village. Most of her kind lived well into one-hundred years, compared to seventy.

  Shan could run faster, jump higher and see in darker places than anybody else in the village. Her father always said, “It is a gift from So’Chor himself!” And she did consider herself blessed, but it was also a curse. Many men in the village already desired her and would barter daily with her father to take her as their wife. He always refused of course. Although he did consider a rich man of blue-sight who had traveled through their village last warm-season but in the end couldn’t bear to see his daughter leave him so young.

  Romarus didn’t dig any deeper. “Your father sounds as if he is a hero of my kingdom. I will make him a lord when we arrive at your home tomorrow.”

  Ten Gods! Papa will be so happy. “Thank you…Your Grace. I don’t know how my household could ever thank you for such an honor you—”

  He span on his bum to face her with his legs crossed on the floor. “Stop talking.” He laughed. “It’s me thanking you and
your father for the work he has done for my kingdom.”

  The king went silent for a moment and looked into her eyes as if he was reading a message that asked more questions than it answered. “Londenia told me that before the Gods’ Age, there were only brown-eyed mortals. Then somebody called Tallan or something…He got into the cities of the gods—the Dead Cities—I can’t remember which one, and had a child with one of them. That was the first blue-eyed mortal. Every blue-sighted mortal has gods’ blood in them. So where the fuck did your gods’ blood come from?” he mused quietly, not really directing the question at her. It looked as if it hurt for the king to think so deeply.

  Her attention drifted as she noticed her hands had left greasy marks on his white cotton top. The tightly fitted shoulders were a light yellow compared to the white folds of the flowing hood. Shit! He’ll think I’m a dirty little wench.

  Before she could say anything, the king rose to his feet, saying, “We should both sleep now.” He rolled his shoulders and neck. “Your hands are the best. I feel amazing now.”

  You don’t speak like I thought a king would speak, she thought.

  The king moving towards her, took her by surprise. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Night Blessings,” whispered from his perfect face as he turned and opened the door directly into his tent. He wedged it open with a wooden stop and crawled under his fur covers. The king didn’t lie when he said he’d be close. He had created another room attached to her little shelter.