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

by Craig P Roberts

  Londenia politely bowed without answer. They followed the men and their broncos back to the curving wall. They rounded the left side and walked round a quarter of the watch post. When they went through a heavy wooden outer door, it took them to a courtyard filled with sand-colored, shiny-stone dwellings. It was a proper little village contained within the strong walls. Londenia was surprised to hear children laughing and see women walking to collect water from the central well. She had assumed that the watch posts would be sparse—only populated with disciplined soldiers—but this had all the comforts of home. One of the women approached her. She wore a simple long tunic, grass-green like the robes of the Burrow guards, and offered a large skin of water but Londenia ushered the woman to the others in her party. When the fourth offering of water came, she grabbed it and poured it into her mouth so fast that most of it ended up running down the front of her neck.

  Later that day, they all sat on soft cushions scattered on the floor of a stone building that they had been offered as their dwellings. Londenia had her back to the smooth, perfectly flat, shiny wall. Most of her party was asleep except for Taigo, who sat fiddling with a chain given to him by his father. “Do you feel that I should go back to the Watch and take my father’s throne?” he asked blankly.

  The question took her by surprise. “Yes, you are the Watch King now. The lines of the Ten Kingdoms have not been broken in nearly one thousand years. And you are King Servin’s son.”

  “How can I go back to that place of death and become king?” His blue eyes stared blankly at the silver chain wrapped around his fingers.

  “It is up to us to rebuild the kingdoms. If we lose faith, then everything is lost.” The boy was right though; nothing remained of the Watch Kingdom’s capital. However, the remaining lands and people would be in need of leadership and stability. The same was true of the Bay Kingdom. The Wetlands had lost its king and she doubted Romarus would succeed in finding the lost prince. Long Kingdom’s army was spread thinly and nothing was known of the King of the Broken Arm.

  “I will make sure the Watch Kingdom lives again,” she heard the boy say, which brought a smile to her face. But then he added, “After I take revenge on that cunt!”

  Her smile faded as she heard Taigo’s revenge plots.

  “That fucking Dead Cities cunt.”

  She didn’t respond. Londenia just stared at the boy. It was as if she was looking at a bottle filled with emotions, ready to explode.

  They were interrupted by one of the Burrow guards bursting into the small room. He drawled in his Still Cities dialect, “Queen Londenia, we have received word back from Mor. Magister Caline has sent a Noth escort to meet you at Nethren. I will send ten of my riders with you until you meet with them. He also said that he is still willing to receive you when you reach Mor.”

  It fascinated her how quickly they could send messages over such vast distances, but their powers were strong in the Still Cities for ones with such little faith in anything. Still willing? The wording of the guard unnerved her slightly. Of course he would still be willing. It was he who asked for an audience with us in the first place! “We will leave at dawn. My people need to rest.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The guard bowed and left the room.

  When morning came, they were brought eggs and mushrooms to break their fast. Londenia didn’t have the stomach for them. Her mind was focused on the journey ahead and haunted by the face of King Anthony and the chilling curses of his vengeful mother. Her appetite wasn’t helped by the food having gone cold on the trip from the kitchens to their dwelling.

  The kingdoms had survived for nearly a thousand years. Why did they have to crumble during my reign, she thought, as she pushed her plate away from her. So many of royal blood are dead or corrupted and it is their own people who suffer.

  She rose and walked outside, staring blankly ahead. Children were playing in and around the strangely shaped trees, mothers collected water, and the guards prepared to march their party to Nethren.

  She stood with her back to the wall of the dwelling. It made her feel slightly more at ease if there was no chance of somebody sneaking up behind her. Out in the open, her heart raced whenever a stare lingered too long. The constant worry of another attack from King Anthony kept her on edge every minute of every day.

  A solemn face through the happy crowd caught her eye. A little girl sat on a step outside another sand-colored dwelling across the way. Her gaze locked onto Londenia, unblinking. Londenia’s fingers tingled and a chill surrounded her head. She tried to calm her heaving chest. She is just a child. If King Anthony wished to harm us he would surely not send a little girl into a heavily armed Still City watch post to do his bidding. Londenia offered a smile. Slowly the child’s lips curled. Relief hit her when she saw teeth of normal shape, and a beaming, genuine smile on the child’s face. The little girl’s mother took her hand and they walked inside their home. Londenia shook her head, sighed and stretched out her arms, trying to shake off the lurking shadow of the King of the Dead Cities.

  More children ran across the path, playing. These children do not care that we are royal. And these mothers only care about getting water for their children. She became engrossed with the young, running without a care along the paths connecting the buildings. A smile crept onto her face. Perhaps the Ten Kingdoms should fall, she allowed herself to think for a second. She thought of a world she could create for the people, not for the benefit of a few chosen kings with blue eyes. At first, the kings were the only men able put life inside of a woman, but over time even lowborn brown-eyed boys and bastards, developed this power. The sickness that chose the ten kings was leaving this land or perhaps had already left. She was not the first to realize this.

  Oppression reigned more heavily in the three dominating kingdoms. They were harsh places that oppress those with brown eyes and practically enslave boys who develop the white seed if they are of low birth; boys created from a single night of lust from a king, or from the seed of common brown-eyed men. I suppose we can add the King of the Dead Cities to that particular group of kingdoms now. King Anthony is even worse than the tyrants of First, Peak and Gate.

  The Ten nurtured their way of life, allowing them to survive in a poisoned land for over nine hundred years, but where are the Ten now? She let her faith slip for a second and then composed herself again.

  They began their journey north-west to Nethren with ten riders from the Burrow. Queen Londenia and each of her party were given a bronco and, with no wagons, their journey moved quickly. What would have taken a wagon-laden party seven days, would likely only take them half that. After all of the fighting and danger they had experienced, the lands of the Still Cities seemed idyllic. They passed small villages with children running on the wide dirt paths as they made their way. The locals would stop work in their fields and wave to the strangers passing through their lands. Even the sky and the air were more pleasant than the dry desert of Last Kingdom, the cloud of death in the Watch Kingdom and the stench of corruption in the Dead Cities. This is what the kingdoms should be like, she thought, as her mind wandered with the rocking up and down of her bronco.

  The wind picked up as they moved towards a heavy, ominous looking sky. As the first day of the journey to Nethren drew on, dark clouds gathered. Rain began to spit as dusk came upon the land. The unusual site of a deca caught her eye. There must be followers of the Ten in these lands, she thought, as she gazed across at the long, soft shadows cast by the obscured setting sun and the ten standing stones that formed the circle. They passed within fifty footfalls of the holy place as their party made its way along the muddy path. The drizzling rain became a downpour.

  A sinking feeling hit Londenia’s stomach. The ground in the center of the deca had been dug up. It was as if a giant had scooped the ground away, leaving a gaping hole in the middle. Who would do such a thing to a holy place? She patted her damp chest ten times with ten cold wet fingers. Perhaps there is no faith in these lands after all.


  Three days into their journey, they crossed the River Byley, where the River Ren joined its course and flowed south, then west into the Soju Expanse. Londenia’s body clenched as she urged her bronco over the bridge.

  “Are you well, my lady?” asked one of the Burrow guards who rode next to her.

  “This river flowing beneath us leads to the Soju Expanse. We know it to be a cursed land. The souls of the fallen and evil are sent there after death.” She paused for a moment, remembering that this guard was unlikely to believe in such things. “You likely think these are but tales?”

  The guard smiled. “We simply have a different explanation of the place that you call the Expanse.” His smile faded. “But you are right in saying it is dark where this river eventually flows through.”

  The water flowing under her feet ran into that cursed, wicked land of the dead, a thousand leagues away. Relief passed through her bones as she reached the dirt track on the far side of the bridge.

  On the fourth day, they reached Nethren. It was a sight to behold. This was the first time Londenia had ever laid eyes upon one of the Still Cities. She stood with her party on top of a hill overlooking the whole of Nethren. And from this point, it indeed looked completely still within its perfectly circular wall encompassing the entire city. The shapes of the buildings were sharp and the light sand color of them shone in the afternoon sun. As they descended the hill towards the shining sprawl of buildings, the city came to life as she began to make out people moving from building to building. This settlement had stood in this place for nearly one thousand years—neither expanding nor shrinking in size. In the kingdoms, dwellings and towns were far more flexible and in the lands of the Broken Arm, they would even move the king’s throne room itself every three moon-turns, along with the surrounding keep.

  Nethren looked to be simply a much larger version of the Burrow. The only curve in the entire city was the completely circular wall surrounding the sharp, beautiful, bright buildings inside its protection. The main gate parted when they were around one hundred footfalls away from it. Guards, in dark-blue robes which hooded their heads, began to march out and spread to form a line twenty-strong in front of the wall of Nethren. The guards carried staffs, tucked behind their right shoulder, which glowed blue at either end. The soldiers were so light footed that they barely made a sound as they marched off the wide marble path surrounding the wall, onto the grass. They stopped in perfect unison.

  Londenia’s ten escorts from the Burrow halted. Her and her other followers came to a stop too. All held their silence. The only sounds were slight murmurs of crowds from within the round tall wall of the city. Her heart was pounding until the twenty men in blue knelt and bowed their heads. She spoke. “People of Nethren, we come to answer the magisters of Mor and we were instructed to meet them in your fair city. I am Queen Londenia of Last Kingdom and I request entry into Nethren.”

  Silence followed.

  A short fat man in a white robe plodded through the middle of the kneeling soldiers with a smile on his face and arms outstretched. “My lady, you are fairer than any words could describe,” he said in the friendly, foreign twang of the Still Cities, his dialect far stronger and more pronounced than those from the Burrow. His fast waddle brought him three footfalls from Londenia.

  “You are too kind…” She waited for his name.

  “Magister Polthen, my lady,” he introduced himself. The magister was thickset with a soft fleshy pair of chins bristled with stubble. “I will at once have chambers arranged for you and your fine following.”

  “Thank you, Magister,” she said, striding efficiently alongside his frantic stumpy legs as they made their way to the main gate. “We only wish to rest for a night and then make our way to Mor at first light,” she said firmly, in what she hoped came across in a friendly enough manner.

  “My single regret is that our city will only be brightened by your presence for just one night.”

  This one likes his words and compliments. “You have a way with words, Magister,” was all she could think of to reply. As she stepped onto the marble platform in front of the gate, the world became wider and flatter. The gates opened onto the sounds of friendly greetings, playful shouting, intense discussion and the occasional pleasurable moan from high bedchambers. The air was clean and the ground beneath her feet shone brightly. The entire city appeared to be carved out of polished stone. Of course, this was not the case and as they walked through the wide main street, Londenia saw gardens of green and strange structures where water shot upwards and landed in great pools. Tall trees lined either side of the wide street. Their trunks were long and thin and all their leaves gathered in a flopping ball at the top. She tried to remain focused. “Have our escorts arrived from Mor, Magister?”

  “They are a day’s ride from here, my lady,” said Polthen. “They will not delay your planned departure for more than a few hours. It will give you some time to sample our cuisine here in Nethren. Our Mithran steaks would likely be one of the best things you have ever tasted.”

  “Perhaps under better circumstances we could enjoy what your city has to offer. However, at this time, we will be happy with whatever refreshments you can provide us with.” As she politely turned down Magister Polthen’s offer, the disappointment on his squashy face was clear. Is he not even aware of the urgency of the message we received from Mor? It’s as if he wishes to delay us.

  “Of course, my lady.” He graciously bowed and proceeded to show them to their marble dwelling.

  Londenia’s bedchamber window looked directly onto the main street below. Her bed was large and soft. She even had her own washbasin in the corner of the room with a spout from which water would pour, activated by a simple twist of a handle. Even the accommodation provided for her guards had such wondrous luxuries. She could not believe the splendor and indulgence of Nethren. Of course, she was very grateful for their hospitality, but with the heaviness of what news may await them at Mor and the darkness of the path they had walked the last several moon-turns, she found it hard to indulge.

  Londenia splashed her face with cold water from the self-filling washbasin. Her eyes avoided the mirror hung on the wall. She couldn’t allow herself to look in its reflection in case a pointed-toothed face stood behind her. She turned to the bed. A flush of panic went through her. I didn’t pull those bedsheets back, she thought, as she tried to remember moving the covers. The door was untouched. She scanned the room. Bed. Washbasin. Drawers. The door to the large wardrobe caught her eye. It was slightly ajar. A dark empty space lay behind it. The thin drape around the window fluttered in a gentle breeze. Her first instinct was to bolt to the door but common sense took over when she remembered she was three stories up and it was unlikely somebody could have scaled up to her bedchamber window unseen and without her hearing them. Perhaps I did pull back those sheets and am just too tired to remember doing it.

  A knock on the door made her jump. “Come.”

  “Queen Londenia, may I speak with you?” a young shaking voice asked.

  “Of course.” By the time she turned around, Taigo was a sobbing mess on the floor. She rushed over and closed the door, squatting next to the distressed boy on the polished marble and put both arms around him, pulling him close. “Hush now. What has brought these tears so suddenly?” It’s all caught up with him, all of it.

  His voice squeezed out of his flustered wet face. “This place! This is how our lives should have been. These people live in peace, without fear. But back home, we always lived in fear and now even that fearful home is gone. What gives those cunts the right to take what is ours and kill the ones we love?”

  “Nothing gives them that right…nothing.” She squeezed him tighter.

  “All of them kept saying the gods would not approve of the travesties of the lower kingdoms. That’s what King Anthony’s puppets called us you know…the lower kingdoms. Simply because somebody like me could perhaps one day lead a kingdom. The only difference between me and him is that my moth
er had brown eyes.”

  Well, King Anthony’s father’s ears didn’t work, she said spitefully in her head about the king who haunted her dreams. “They claim if you were to take on the line of kings, you could taint the bloodline, as it is not certain your offspring would have blue sight. But no matter what they believe, it does not justify what they did. Yes, your offspring may not be able to continue the line but there would be others. And I know you would make a fine king!”

  Taigo stared at the floor through misty eyes. The look reminded her of Romarus, stewing in one of his emotional storms; everything boiling underneath the skin. He sobbed, then shook his head, then punched the hard floor, then cursed, then sobbed. It was as if there was an argument going on inside the boy’s head behind those bright blue eyes and tanned skin. “It is the fact that he hides behind the gods and says it was their will driving him to destroy us. If the Ten exist it means they allowed these things to happen.”

  Londenia relaxed her grip and slid away from Taigo. “Are you doubting the Ten?” she asked, tentatively.

  “Yes! Even if they were true—gods that allowed what I saw…I wouldn’t worship them…I’d spit on them.”

  For a moment, Londenia couldn’t bear to look at the non-believer on the floor but when she heard the sobbing and remembered what he had gone through, she embraced him again and prayed silently to Yod’Herem to give the boy she held in her arms wisdom and to forgive him for his lack of faith.

  The following morning, she awoke to sunlight through the window of her bedchamber. The bustle of happy crowds outside made her thankful to be alive and the wonderful warm covers of her oversized bed filled her with a comfort she hadn’t felt since leaving home so long ago. Londenia sat up in her empty chamber and heard muffled voices from the hallway: “Have you checked the living areas?” one of them said.

  “That was the first place we looked. He’s gone,” she heard L’Gon shout back.

  “He couldn’t have been taken. These walls are secure. He must have hopped when we changed shifts. Why would he run with no word?” asked another voice that she couldn’t quite recognize through the heavy door and marble walls.