Liberate

by Krista D. Ball

  That was one of Jud’s new edicts: bringing Wyllow’s rigid class ideas back to the mainland. Orchard Park hadn’t followed class divisions in three centuries, but of course Jud would bring them back. Many of the full-blooded elves didn’t even like the rules, as it hurt their businesses. Or, made it difficult for them to shop where they preferred to procure their items. Elves were not known for quick adjustments to change. It took many of them a century to even get used to the old rules of desegregation and now it was back for them to have to get used to all over again.

  “What are you doing here?” a man shouted at him.

  Jovan kept walking, pretending not to hear.

  “Stop! Did you hear me? Stop!” Footsteps sounded behind him.

  Jovan picked up his pace, still not running, but stretching his pace as far as he could with it still being called a walk.

  “Vagrant, stop!” the man shouted and the footsteps behind him broke into a run.

  Jovan went into a full sprint, not even bothering to look behind him. If one of Jud’s new police force, as he called it, grabbed him, he’d be just as dead as if Jud himself caught him. He had no illusions that he would end up in a cell adjacent to Erem to be tortured, too. He had to stay uncaptured while Bethany moved her plan in motion.

  There was no word about her being there, but of course she was. This entire secret mission plot sounded like something Stanley or Rayner would’ve come up with. Bethany’s plans generally involved more swords and less subterfuge.

  Jovan’s face slammed against the cobblestones. His vision clouded and he tasted copper in his mouth. He blinked several times, trying to get the haze out of his eyes. He knew he needed to be running. He knew he wasn’t, but he couldn’t make his body do what he wanted it to do.

  “Good afternoon, Jovan.”

  Jovan lifted his head to squint at the man leaning over him. “Hello, Juddlebug.”

  “I hear you’ve been looking for your friend, Erem. Let’s go see him, shall we?”

  EREM WATCHED THE GUARDS enter. He let out a weary sigh, knowing that the torture would begin again now. His strength had been recovering with the extra food and blankets, so now those comforts would once again be taken from him.

  This time, however, the guards carried someone between them. He knew this game well. He would be brought a dying girl and they they’d beat him because he couldn’t heal her the way he healed himself. He didn’t even know how he was healing himself.

  If he knew, wouldn’t they think he’d heal himself to full strength, enough to overpower the guards as soon as the cage door opened? At full strength, Erem was strong even for an elf. He wasn’t on Bethany or Allric’s level, sure, but he was still stronger than most. Anyone who’d made it as far as they did in the Silver Knights knew how to hold their own. They were the elite. Wasn’t that what Bethany would always say? They were the elite of the world’s elite.

  He saw Jud’s pristine figure appear in the shadows. Not all of them had gotten to the top by their strength, he now knew. Some of them had gotten there by lies and treason.

  Still, the sight of Jud made Erem flinch. He couldn’t control the instinct. He didn’t want another beating, but had resigned himself to this being his life. Everyone must have thought he was dead by now. No one had come for him and it had been ever so long. Jud said it was over a year now. He didn’t know if it was true or not. He just knew they weren’t coming.

  Jud picked up the lantern and moved it in front of the face of the man dangling between the guards. “I think we’ll try a different tactic this time.”

  Erem squinted. It took a moment for his brain to register he knew that man. “Jovan?”

  A bloodied Jovan lifted his head and said, “We never gave up on you.”

  Jud exploded in rage. He pounded his fists against Jovan, over and over, hitting him in the head, the jaw, the chest, and his ribs. That wasn’t enough, though, for Jud in one of his fits. He grabbed Jovan from the guards and threw him to the floor. Jovan pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his head even had Jud began merciless kicking him.

  Something ripped inside Erem. He didn’t shout in anger. He didn’t scream in rage. He wept. He wept because now he’d condemned another to this endless fate. He would have rather live here forever alone than inflict Jud’s plans on another, let alone one of his best friends.

  Sweat poured down Jud’s face. He panted and leaned his hands against his knees. It was then he noticed his bloodied knuckles and pulled out a pristine white cloth to wipe them.

  “Now,” he said, struggling to catch his voice, “Erem? No one is coming for you. This is what happens to your friends who even step foot in Orchard Park. They will all end up in here with you.”

  “I’m going to kill you,” Jovan wheezed.

  “No, you won’t. Erem is going to.”

  Erem couldn’t protest. He was too overwhelmed with his sobs.

  Jud let out a pleased sound. “One broken. Five to go.”

  Chapter 12

  BETHANY HELD HER TONGUE while one of Jud’s lickspittles explained to Jonas that they had to relocate back to their ships due to a security issue that had arose. Jonas demanded to know the circumstances surrounding the “issue,” but received nothing but excuses and assurances that the Silver Knights were doing all they could, and so on and so forth.

  Since Bethany was doing this incognito thing, she couldn’t beat the answer out of the poor man. Tempting, though it was. She had to assume they knew she was here because there was no good reason for her not to show up.

  “Have you told Lady Kia?” Jonas demanded.

  “Yes, I have informed her. She cannot leave...the king’s side, so she instructed me to return the message to you folk.”

  “Do you have proof of that?” Jonas asked. “I want proof that Lady Kia is aware. This is...is...offensive.”

  Bethany was grateful her helmet hid her smirk. Jonas was the son of a farmer. He fought in the civil war, and he fought in the Magic War that followed. Then, he went home to his parents to help them replant their fields in between guarding the grounds of the Winter Palace. He was mostly illiterate, though he’d picked up how to sign his name in the pay ledgers, as opposed to the X so many signed.

  She held the guard position at the door during this exchange, which worked well in case she needed to bar the door and do a little light interrogation. She recognized this aide of Jud’s and would have probably just needed to offer to take him back to Taftlin and he’d spilled his guts. And, one hoped, Jud’s, too.

  Lord Halk. The name came to her in a rush of memory. He was one of the field commanders assigned to the supply route. Jovan had promoted him to the position just before she’d gone on her adventures across the straits behind enemy lines. He was a well-trained, dependable soldier. It made no sense for him to be paper pushing for Jud. Halk should have people paper pushing for him.

  Bethany let out a groan and it all made sense to her. The others turned to her and Jonas gave her a stern look that made her smile again. He was turning into quite the curmudgeon. She took credit for that, of course.

  “Sorry. Guard Sparrow’s Wing doesn’t like boats and isn’t keen on being sent back,” Jonas said, flashing Bethany one more reprimanding glance. He accepted a note from Halk, frowned. He handed the note to Bethany. She nodded. It was Lady Kia’s signature all right. She’d recognize it anywhere. “Fine. We’ll begin moving back to the ship, since you’ve not give us much choice.”

  Halk nodded. He glanced about the room, as if he were trying to guess the identities of the guards. He leaned forward and asked Jonas, in a voice so low Bethany wasn’t completely sure she understood all of the words. But she heard the one question plainly: “Is Brennus okay?”

  Jonas’ forehead crinkled, but he nodded.

  “He didn’t come, right?”

  Jonas shook his head. “He stayed to help with the protection of the Winter Palace.”

  “Good. Will you...are you able to provide him a mess
age?”

  “Yes. I can even give him a letter, if you wish.”

  “No, no letter. Simply tell him that Halk said to never come back. There is an arrest notification for him. Do not let him come back.”

  “I will pass the message on. Is there anything else? We aren’t friends as such, but I know him well enough to relay messages.”

  Halk hesitated, but then he leaned forward to whisper something to Jonas. Bethany was too far away to hear what he said, but it caused Jonas’ expression to tense. “Oh. I understand. I will tell him.”

  “Just him?” Halk’s expression was pleading.

  “You have my word. Just him.”

  Halk let out a breath. “Good. I am sorry for...the state you find us in here. Elven hospitality doesn’t exist anymore. Well, perhaps I should say it only exists for some. If only your Taftlin had better weather.”

  “The summers are pleasant,” Jonas said.

  Halk snorted. “Yes. I remember. Good day, Captain Jonas. I will send servants to assist you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Halk left the room and Bethany made a point to wait for him to walk down the stairs before she closed and locked the door behind him. She looked at Jonas and asked, “Well?”

  “He and Brennus were friends. Isn’t that Lord Halk? Like, Field Commander Lord Halk?”

  Bethany nodded. “Yup.”

  “Then why in Apexia’s name is he delivering messages? Don’t they have servants here for that?”

  “Halk is Elorian,” Bethany said.

  “So?”

  Bethany looked out the window, down at the courtyard. “Haven’t you noticed there are no Elorians or humans in any position of authority?”

  “Now that you say it...” Jonas said.

  Bethany turned away from the window and closed the curtains. “It’s only elves in charge now. Looks like I wasn’t the only one who’d been demoted back to the bottom.”

  “That makes no sense,” Myra said. When Bethany motioned for her to keep her voice down, she said in a lower whispered, “They can’t just keep promoting elves over the war heroes. That’s going to cause...I don’t know what, but that’s not going to work.”

  “I know,” Bethany said. “Did you get anything from Halk?”

  “He’s terrified,” Myra said.

  “Of us?” Jonas asked.

  “Of everything. He’s scared,” Myra said.

  Bethany blew out a breath, hoping it would release some of her built-up tension. It didn’t. “I got that from him, too.”

  “Half of the people here are scared. The other half, well...Lady Bethany, I don’t know if there is a word for it. Cruelty isn’t right.”

  “The word you’re looking for is power,” Bethany said in a low voice. “The ones who want power and control will do anything to keep it. That’s why the others are afraid. This is all fucked up. All right. Myra, I need you to find Jovan. His letter said he was hiding in the Elorian district. I don’t know what he means by that. There hasn’t been an Elorian district in Orchard Park in my lifetime. It used to be down by the tanners, but I’m not sure where anything is after the fires.”

  Myra nodded. “I know where the Elorian district is. I have friends who were moved there by Jud’s people.”

  Bethany shook her head. “Districts. Apexia’s mercy, what has he done to this place? Look, be careful. Jud is going to have spies everywhere. He’s paranoid in the best of times, and he hates Jovan. If he knows Jovan is anywhere near here, he’ll be looking for him. You’re still too recognizable.”

  Myra was wearing a muted brown shawl wrapped around her neck, tight up to her chin. She wore a peasant’s dress, the kind that serving women in Taftlin wore, along with a wide-brimmed hat.

  “Once I’m off the temple grounds, they’ll just think I’m an Elorian or maybe a Rygent. I will be fine.”

  Bethany looked down at Myra’s hands. “People are going to wonder why you’re wearing gloves in this heat.”

  “My sleeves cover part of my hands. No one is going to notice me. Lady Bethany, it’s going to be fine. I promise, I’ll be careful.”

  Bethany frowned at her. “I wasn’t worried.”

  Myra smiled. She was so young. Bethany had never been that young in her life. “I know you weren’t.”

  “I just don’t want Jud to find you.”

  “He won’t.”

  “Just...fine. Just be careful.”

  Myra snickered. “This isn’t my first time.”

  “One dungeon rescue and now you think you’re better at this than I am,” Bethany said crossly.

  “You fainted when you came to rescue us,” Jonas said.

  Bethany pointed her thumb at Jonas. “See?”

  “Lady Bethany,” Myra said in a firm, unyielding voice. “I’ll keep my head down. I have my basket. I have my money. I look like a servant. No one will notice me.”

  “You know, I liked you better when you were afraid of me.”

  Myra grinned up at Bethany. “I can’t help it if you’re nice.”

  “Don’t make me break your legs,” Bethany said casually. “Do you have enough money on you?”

  Myra rolled her eyes as she dangled the two purses from her skirt pockets. She pushed the pouches back out of view.

  “You can’t carry your money like that. You’ll get robbed.”

  “I tied them to my waist, just like Lady Eve taught me.”

  Bethany sighed at the mention of her old friend whose ashes now helped the grass recover on the final battle field of the war. She wished Eve were here. Allric, too. There would have been no need for sneaking about. They would have all marched off the ship and demanded Erem and a hundred knights would have climbed over each other to give Allric what he demanded. That was then, though. This was now. “Fine. Get as many supplies as you can while you’re hunting around.”

  “I have memorized the list. Walnuts for His Majesty. Almonds for Lord Kiner. Dried Lemons for Lord Edmund. Oranges for Lord Brennus. Dried figs for Lord Stanley. Vanilla for Lord Rayner. Nutmeg for Miss Amber. Cardamom for the Dowager. Cinnamon for Lady Lendra. Olives for Darien.”

  “All the olives,” Bethany said. “I want all of them.”

  “All the olives,” Myra promised. “I promise to find Lord Jovan.”

  “Be safe,” Bethany said.

  She watched Myra leave and a sinking feeling she didn’t particularly like hit the bottom of her stomach and refused to move. She remembered that feeling from the first mission she’d led, and the decisions of who to send to their deaths. She thought she’d long suppressed that feeling, but it rose back up and gave her heartburn.

  “Please don’t break any of my bones, Lady Bethany, but I think you’ve taken a bit of a shine to Myra,” Jonas said.

  Bethany made a disgusted sound. “It’s being around Arrago. He’s made me soft.”

  Jonas snorted. “You’re still the most terrifying woman I’ve ever met, next to my grandmother, of course. Gentle Goddess, that woman is scary.”

  Bethany smiled, though there was little happiness in it. “Perhaps I will meet her someday.”

  “I would fear for your safety,” Jonas said. His tone then turned serious. “So. When do you think we’ll all be running for our lives?”

  “I’m surprised we haven’t yet. If I were Jud, I would have ordered everyone out of the ship, did a full search, and I would have found me inside an hour. And then I would have set the entire ship on fire, captured Arrago, and held him for ransom.” The other knights in the room stopped their busy work to stare at her. “What? That’s what I would do if Jud showed up at Castle Gree unannounced.”

  “I take back what I said,” Jonas said. “Even my grandmother isn’t that terrifying.”

  “For our own sakes, let’s hope I’m the only one here who still thinks like that.”

  Chapter 13

  KINER READ THROUGH his report from Jackson about the palace’s outer wall. The report was written well beyond Jackson’s ability, so it w
as obvious one of the other guards helped him. It was even possible he’d brought one of the prostitutes Bethany had hired for him to write his reports for him.

  That was a thought that made him shiver. He had to speak to Jackson about that. He didn’t think the experienced soldier would make that kind of mistake, but it seemed a lot of men made plenty of mistakes whenever their faces were between naked breasts. There was no telling who was spying for whom these days. Loyalties could shift, and Kiner had to anticipate all possible movements. He’d talk to Jackson.

  Edmund marched into Kiner’s office, not bothering to knock. He collapsed in the chair across from his table. “Rutherford is here.”

  Kiner put down his letter and asked, “Define here.”

  Edmund thumbed at the door, though he didn’t take his gaze off Kiner. “Currently sitting in the throne room talking to Rayner and Stanley.”

  Kiner muttered various oaths under his breath. To Edmund, he asked, “Are you expecting an attack?”

  Edmund shrugged.

  “Let me rephrase. Are you expecting an imminent attack?”

  “I don’t think Rutherford is going to murder Stanley and Rayner in the throne room. After that? No idea.”

  Kiner nodded. “I worried this might happen after everyone left. I've been implementing some of the plans Bethany had after the last attack. She wanted people who we knew from the war, who we could trust. It's a good plan, but...”

  Edmund was able to finish the sentence. "But everyone is scattered and most of Arrago's men were farmers and labourers. We’re not ready for a full-scale challenge to Arrago’s royal authority.”

  “No, we’re not,” Kiner said. The honesty of the statement bothered him. “Brennus recommended hiring mercenaries in a pinch.”

  “Don’t. Any mercenaries in Taftlin aren't going to work for the king. Highest bidder. Most of them make their money off the slave trade in the east, and Arrago's cut well into their profits. It's not going to work. Not to mention, Arrago would kill us if he found out we’d hired a press gang by accident.”