Liberate

by Krista D. Ball

  Kiner blinked.

  “Oh, press gangs. It’s an ongoing problem along the border. Mercenaries are hired to convince people to join a local lord’s militia force. It’s not too bad until you end up with those who were pressed into mercenary gangs themselves.”

  “I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to become entangled in that,” Kiner said.

  Edmund shook his head. “It’s really not a good idea.”

  “All right then. We need a new plan.” Kiner stood up from his desk and pounded on his office wall. At Edmund's confused look, he said, "Brennus moved in next door."

  “No one told me,” Edmund said, with a hint of a sulk.

  Kiner scoffed. “You? No one told me. He eats smoked smelts every morning. I thought Jovan was back.”

  “What is it with coastal people and fish for breakfast?” Edmund said with a sneer. “How can you stomach that first thing in the morning?”

  Kiner returned to his chair. “I've seen you eat an entire hen before dawn.”

  “It was a small hen,” Edmund defended himself. He absently rubbed his wrist against his stump. “We were up all that night digging ditches in the fucking snow. I was hungry and cold. I needed that hen to keep going.”

  Kiner motioned at his stump. “It itches worse when you think about the war, doesn't it? I've had several soldiers under my command who have lost limbs. Some said it didn't make a difference. Others said it did. I always thought it was a personal thing. You know, how some things give you nightmares while other things don't even bother you? But it's different for each of us.”

  Edmund didn’t reply. He just stopped fussing with his stump.

  “I used to know a woman who lost her arm. She would position her stump against her skin and close her eyes, trying to imagine her skin was her missing arm. It was the only way she could...” It was then Kiner noticed the expression of frustration so clearly written across Edmund’s face. “I apologize.”

  “Huh?”

  “Everyone must be giving you advice. You probably know what is best for yourself. I apologize.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Still, I have all my limbs. I should keep my thoughts to myself until they are requested. I apologize.”

  Edmund gave Kiner a tight-lipped nod as a reply.

  Kiner decided to let the conversation die into awkward silence, one he deserved for being insensitive to Edmund’s situation. Thankfully, Brennus saved them moments later.

  “You banged?”

  “I did,” Kiner said. “Have a seat.”

  “Edmund,” Brennus said. Back to Kiner, he said, “When I moved in next door, I didn't realize you'd be summoning me all of the time.”

  “That was the first time,” Kiner said.

  Brennus gave him an unimpressed look. “This morning when you pounded on the wall to see if I could hear it?”

  “I was testing the thickness of the walls,” Kiner said with a shrug.

  Turning back to Edmund, Brennus asked, “Was he like this during the war?”

  “Worse because Bethany and Jovan were there.”

  “Hmm,” Brennus said. “I’m glad I was assigned to the royal guard, then. So, what do you need?”

  Edmund detailed the situation with Rutherford, including his request for lowered taxes. Kiner watched Edmund rub his wrist against his stump, but said nothing. It wasn’t his place to point out a man’s twitches. He had plenty of his own. Like twitching at the sight of rope.

  When he finished updating them, Brennus’ face darkened. “He means to attack us again.”

  “Very technically, we don't have evidence he was behind the last one, but yes,” Kiner said. “I believe he’s planning something.”

  “Can’t we just arrest him?” Brennus asked.

  Edmund shook his head. "Rutherford was an advisor to the king. Not just Arrago, but straight back to Daniel’s grandfather. You can't just arrest a man like that without reprisals. You need a lot of evidence, and we don’t have it.”

  “Bethany saw his servant with a mercenary,” Brennus insisted.

  “We don’t have the servant,” Kiner said.

  “I hate to say this, especially since this is technically treason, but we only have Bethany’s word. She is the queen, but she’s just an elf.”

  “She’s half-human. Kinda,” Brennus said. At Kiner’s eye roll, he clarified, “She pretends to be half-human. That's close enough, right?”

  “No. The south tends to be more forgiving of the ears. Many people were saved by Bethany's army. The north though? They were fighting amongst themselves more than fighting Magi. They don't care. Apexia's mercy, some of them probably blame Bethany for bringing the war to them,” Edmund said.

  “That's bullshit,” Brennus said. Then, he blushed and said, “I've been hanging around you lot for too long. I'm even swearing like you people now.”

  “Wait until Jovan gets here,” Kiner said.

  “It’s true. You’ll be talking about Apexia’s tits more than anyone else’s,” Edmund said with a heaping of disgust.

  “So what do we do? We just let Rutherford sit around until he kills us all in our sleep?” Brennus asked.

  “Yes,” Kiner said.

  “And, to think, they put you in charge instead of me,” Brennus said sourly. Though, he flashed Edmund a wide grin. “Is there a department of complaints?”

  “Lord Rayner,” Edmund said. “He is an expert in the field.”

  Kiner let Brennus and Edmund tease him for a bit. It wasn’t close to the level Bethany and Jovan could rip into him, but it made him feel a little bit like he was home. He was getting a little soft here, sitting around with all of these servants waiting on his every word. His ego needed a little chaffing, if for no other reason than to prepare for the inevitable onslaught that would be his friends getting back together.

  “Edmund, with your permission, I would like to begin implementing some of Bethany’s plans, as well as some of the plans Arrago had. Let’s not alarm the entire palace, but let’s not sit idle, either.”

  “You’re the expert,” Edmund said.

  “You’re from here,” Kiner said. “I’m just a pointed-ear foreigner.”

  “That’s true,” Edmund said and, just for that moment, Kiner saw a flash of the old, irreverent boy.

  Kiner took a little comfort in that. He liked Edmund well enough, and he was a good soldier. It was good to see someone healing, and he was happy to be the brunt of the joke if it let someone move on. The three men quickly let the verbal jabs subside and went to work remembering everything Bethany had said about problems she’d noticed about palace security, along with Kiner’s own notes. They had much to prepare and only a few hours of daylight left.

  RUTHERFORD DECLINED the offer of a guest suite at the palace, opting to instead return to his own house that edged the new, fashionable section of the capital. His sons and his many grandchildren used the house during the winter months, where the weather was milder and had less snow. It was abandoned for a few weeks now, though, as everyone was on their estates enjoying the early-arrived summer.

  He instructed his servants to advise any visitors he had gone to bed, then left through the servants’ back alley entrance when it was safe to do so without detection. He dodged the shit piles caused by donkeys, horses, and dogs, and made his way through the streets up to the other house he'd rented in the mercantile district. No one knew him there, and he’d used an intermediary twice removed to rent the small house in the row of housing along the steep street.

  By the time Rutherford arrived at the servants’ passage of his rental house, he was out of breath and chilled. He was unaccustomed to such physical exertion and his joints ached. He fumbled lighting the fire in the kitchen, but he managed. He’d not hired any servants for his new location, since it was merely for their meetings. He could not risk his own servants seeing them all together.

  The others began shuffling into the house when he�
��d gotten the water warmed enough to add to his wine. The youngest of them, Sir Liam, fetched chairs for the rest as they arrived. Soon, they were all gathered about his kitchen, enjoying warm watered wine and the heat of the fire.

  “How did it go?” Sir Sanders asked.

  Rutherford rolled his eyes by way of reply.

  “Should we assume they weren't interested in giving us what we want?” Sir William asked.

  “Rayner gave me a tax invoice,” Rutherford said. “Damn fool.”

  “You haven’t paid your taxes yet?” Sir Liam asked innocently.

  Rutherford glared at the boy. He had the smallest lands to offer them, and therefore the smallest income, militia, and prestige, but he was King Daniel’s third cousin. A tenuous link, but an important one. At least he had royal blood, unlike the current usurper on the throne.

  “Tell me you didn’t pay your taxes, Liam,” Sanders said.

  Liam shrugged. “My lands are south of all of yours. The collectors came, I paid. I didn’t want anyone to be suspicious of me.”

  Sir William scoffed. “What is the point for us to even have this fool here?”

  Rutherford sipped at his wine. “We need his fool’s bloodline.”

  “Arrago didn’t,” Sanders insisted.

  “Arrago is a young man. Something most of us are not anymore.”

  “Does this mean we get to attack them now?” Liam asked.

  Rutherford didn't like him. He was too big of a fool. All he wanted was power for the sake of power. Rutherford didn't believe for a moment that this idiot would be an improvement on the country's governance, but every cause needed either a scapegoat or someone to send to the far north to sit in the snow and rule there. They’d set up a ruling council, oust Liam, and then they could bring back the proper rule of law.

  “What is everyone's thoughts?” Rutherford asked.

  He'd already formed his own opinion. Attack tonight while they were still planning their security and new guard rotations. He'd heard they were hunting for humans who'd worked for Arrago during his rebellion, people who would be loyal to him. They were having difficulties, obviously, since most were farmers and tradesmen. The war ended, and they went back to work. He knew Arrago well enough to know he couldn't afford mercenaries. He could barely afford his own troops as it was. He'd heard rumors of them melting down several religious artifacts for the silver and the gems just to afford the servants' wages.

  Rutherford loved the idea that his withholding of taxes meant he was reducing Arrago's status and power further. The little brat pretending to be king should never had gotten rid of him. That was his second mistake. His first was ever deciding to get involved in politics. Rutherford would soon teach him a lesson.

  “I worry that this isn't the right time,” Sanders said. “The queen will eventually return and she is not a woman to screw with.”

  “The queen is a whore and a thug,” Rutherford said. “Assuming she survives her trip to the south, which isn't even guaranteed, she will come back here, see the destruction, blame anyone and everyone, and she will declare war on all of Taftlin to find us.”

  “How is that a good thing?” Liam asked.

  “Think of it, boy. She will alienate her allies. She isn't one of us. She doesn't trust humans. Anyone who served with her during the war says that. She hates humans. She isn't going to listen. She might even bring elves back to Taftlin to fight against us. No one will stand for that.”

  “The elves she brought fought Magic, though,” William said. “Many peasants and farmers had their lives saved by elves.”

  “Whose side are you on?” Rutherford demanded. “She showed up here with her Apexia-whoring elves and killed humans. That is a fact.”

  William didn't respond. Rutherford would have to watch him carefully. He seemed a little too taken with their elven queen.

  “I say we send word to the men. Tonight,” Rutherford said.

  “We've not even had a chance to plan,” William protested.

  “What is there to plan? We hired a band of mercenaries to snatch Prince Henry. We’ll hold him for ransom and, if our demands aren't meant, we kill him,” Sanders said. “That has always been the plan. We have our men standing by, ready to attack at our word.”

  “I'm not sure I agree with killing kids,” Liam said. “I thought we were going to attack the palace.”

  “What did you think would happen inside the palace, my boy?" Rutherford asked. "They would invite the mercenaries for tea and pie? This is a battle. If you don't have the stomach for it, then you know where the door is and I will expect your discretion or else you will find your own children suffering the same plight.”

  “You dare threaten my children?” Liam shouted.

  “I dare,” Rutherford said.

  “Old man, I could kill you where you sit right now,” Liam said.

  Rutherford didn’t flinch from the young buck’s words. He merely sipped away at this wine. “If you do, these men will kill you a minute later. Then they will order the mercenaries to kill your family, your servants, your friends, and your allies. This is a fight for our very nation. There is no place for cowardice, boy.”

  Liam lowered his head.

  “Good. Now I recommend we send in the men. William, have you ensured the money cannot be traced back to us?”

  William nodded. "Yes, Rutherford. I used a proxy to handle things. I found him in a poor house. I hired him, he organized the trade, and is now in the process of succumbing to his disease. The money I paid him will let him die in comfort, so he will not betray our cause."

  “Excellent,” Rutherford said. “More complex than necessary perhaps, but still a solid plan. I would have merely killed the man.”

  William shrugged. “Why kill a man when you can buy him?”

  Rutherford raised his wine goblet to him in a salute. “I see we have different views on the world. All right. Are we in agreement? We will have the mercenaries storm the palace tonight?”

  They nodded.

  Rutherford smiled. Either way, he would win tonight.

  BETHANY WAS SHOVELING white fish and salt-cured olives into her mouth when she heard the heavy stomp of running boots. The footsteps grew closer until the door to the small dining room swung open.

  Myra’s eyes searched the room, found Bethany, and said through gasps of air, “We have a problem.”

  Bethany chewed on an olive. Merciful Goddess, she missed olives. “Only one? Our odds improve.”

  “Jovan’s been captured. Apparently, Jovan has been hiding with some Elorians he knew. Retired knights and people who used to work for Lady Eve, mostly. But knights started doing raids on everyone's homes as soon as Arrago arrived. They found him a couple hours after we got here.”

  Bethany put her bowl down. “Where is he?”

  Myra shook her head, still gasping for breath. “All anyone knows is that Jud took him. No idea where.”

  “Shit,” Bethany said. She drummed her fingers on the table.

  Bethany talked aloud through the various places possible to hide someone for the better part of an hour. She knew she couldn’t leave without both Jovan and Erem, but she also knew she’d only get one chance at rescuing them. If they were being held in two different locations, she’d have to organize two different assaults or, barring that, stay behind with some of her troops to rescue the other. She didn’t like that second plan, as they were as likely to be caught as Jovan evidently had been.

  They had hoped to get everyone out within a couple of days, tuck tail, and run. Without Jovan’s help, the plan was already blown. There was still the option of stealth, which she wanted to do. However, there was always the “we’re all going to die anyway” plan, which involved her challenging Jud to a duel. It would make her feel better, but probably wouldn’t have the desired results.

  Bethany had started her second bowl of fish and olives when a knock at the door interrupted them. A servant handed Myra a note. She passed it over to Bethany, who opened it.

>   “It's from Andrews. Jovan is being held in the east dungeon along with Erem. Access is through a wooden door built into the stone face of the stairs. It's hard to see at night. Ah. Jud is considering moving them both tomorrow.”

  “Can you trust him?” Myra asked.

  Bethany shrugged. “I think so. More importantly, though, this is where I'd assumed from the beginning where Erem was held. Everything got cut off after Sarissa blew the place up, so I didn’t know how to get down there anymore. All right. Looks like we’re going tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Myra asked.

  “If Jud moves them, it could be days or weeks before we find them. We have a chance.”

  “What if it’s a trap?” Myra asked.

  “We won’t know until we get there. Wake everyone up. Let them know the plan begins at midnight.”

  Chapter 14

  THE NEXT FOUR HOURS were a blur of organizing, dressing, and getting everyone who was needed off the boat back to the docks without raising any alarms. Thankfully, Myra’s purchase orders had been coming in all evening, so there were rowboats constantly back and forth. Bethany, Jonas, and Myra easily slipped off one of the rowboats to manoeuvre their way down the wharf, across the cobblestone courtyard, and down the darkened stone staircases. They didn’t speak, having reviewed the plan with Jonas several times. He didn’t know the temple grounds well, but Bethany had grown up there.

  Arrago, Lady Kia, and several of the knights they’d brought with them, all waited on the docks under the guise of inspecting the cargo. It was a pathetic ruse, but the dockmaster was busy organizing the deliveries, so he paid little heed to the gathering that stayed out of his way.

  Even with the destruction of so much of the temple, Bethany still knew where every door and corridor used to be, even if hidden by rubble. She ran her hand along the rough stone wall now, looked for the latch. She couldn’t see, but she knew it was here somewhere. Sure enough, the stone gave way to wood. She pushed against it gently and it creaked open on its hinges. This door used to be inside a tower, which was lost to the sea now. But even Jud knew about the stairwell down and enough so to install a door disguised as just another wooden support.