Liberate

by Krista D. Ball

  One child who didn’t know he was hugging his father. One child who didn’t know she wasn’t hugging her father. His heart shattered when he looked up at Amber, knowing this was as close to a family he would ever have. And he ruined it by letting his emotions take over. Damn his feelings. Damn it all.

  Amber stood stoically over them. She wasn’t smiling, nor was she frowning. More than anything, she was puzzled.

  He mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  “Listen!” Henry demanded.

  “I’m sorry. I wanted to make sure Amber was fine. Did you take care of her?”

  Henry let out a petulant sound.

  And on his story went, about how he and Opal were very quiet when they heard footsteps in the corridor, and how brave and unafraid they were. All the while, the kids didn’t let go of him. Several times, Henry said what a big boy he’d been. Opal babbled a few things, which Henry said meant she was scared and cried a lot.

  He didn’t say it, for he feared his voice would crack. But someday, he’d have to explain to Henry that everyone, even him, gets afraid from time to time.

  He flicked a glance in Amber’s direction before giving Henry a big smile. For him, he was afraid things would never be repaired now.

  EVEN WITH THE WIND in their sails the entire way, the trip back to Castle Gree’s wharf was a slow slog. Erem wanted to be home, though he had no idea where home was anymore. There was a time the hot sun of Orchard Park was home, but Jud had ruined that for him. He had suffered in the cold and snow of Taftlin during the war, but now he grew stronger the cooler the air turned. Like he was going home.

  He didn’t want to think about if a land of humans could be his home. He simply wanted to be as far away from Jud’s reach. Somewhere he could heal, though he doubted that was something he’d ever experience.

  Erem looked at what was once Jovan’s bed. One of the healer’s assistants was asleep under the blankets, snoring softly in time with the rise and fall of the waves. The healers worked hard on Jovan’s legs, knitting back together the bones in his shins and feet. Eventually, Jovan could stand with help. He was never the kind of man to lie around when there was adventure to be had, so Jovan spent less time in the mending room now.

  A tinge of bitterness and grief hit Erem whenever he thought about how easy it was to heal Jovan. Erem was a far different story for the healers. Erem had been tortured, starved, frozen, and isolated. He struggled to even speak, let alone recognize people. He didn’t immediately know Arrago, nor did he know Myra. He vomited the food he’d been given because he’d gorge it, so they cut back the portions, feeding him more frequently. Then, he angered the healers because he kept hiding part of his food under his pillow, no matter what it was.

  He couldn’t help it. It came naturally now. Inhale half the food, shove the rest down his trousers. Once his trousers had become nothing more than scraps, he’d dig holes in the floor, carefully hiding food under pebbles. He had no nails left on his fingers, from the endless clawing at dirt and stone wall. He was little more than an animal now. He knew it. They knew it.

  The first day, he’d wept as the servants and healers carefully stripped the rags off him and washed the filth from his body. He wanted to feel humiliated, but it felt good to have the touch of a human being against his skin, even if was through a soapy, wet cloth. The elderly healer tackled the more intimate cleaning, while the others methodically cleaned his body. They shaved his head, not even bothering to untangle the mess. They poured oils, rubbed in ointments. When he was clean, a process that took so long he’d often fall asleep, they bundled him into clean clothes. They’d piled blankets on top of him and the healers would soothingly whisper comfort whenever he begged them to kill him.

  Then, and only then, would they let Bethany in to see him.

  Every day it was the same process. They washed and oiled him, treated his wounds, whispered soothing words, and sang songs meant to quell his racing thoughts. Then, Bethany would visit. The others would, too, but she always came in first.

  The first day they let her in was the day her mask slipped. He’d known her a long time, and it was through her eyes he realized how difficult his future would be. He had not seen that look on her face very often, but it was the expression that made nations tremble. Somewhere inside him, he knew he should worry that whatever Jud had done to him had caused such an expression, but he couldn’t sort through his thoughts. He just wanted to die. Anything to end this suffering.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been aboard the ship. They answered whenever he asked, and always commented that they were making excellent time, but he struggled to keep track of how long had passed. But he knew they were getting closer to Taftlin, to safety. They all kept saying that: safety. Taftlin was safe. It was strange hearing those words. A world where they had invaded, destroyed, burnt...but that was the world that was safer than his own people.

  He was never left alone. They must have known he would have thrown himself off the deck if he’d been allowed. One of them always sat with him, alongside the team of healers, assistants, and servants. Then there was the constant vigil of two knights at the door. He knew their role because he’d been given that job a lifetime ago: they were there to tie him to his bed if he tried to escape. The critical part of his mind, what was left of it, knew this was overkill. In his pathetic state, the tiny waif who collected the linens twice a day could have easily knocked him over.

  None of it mattered. He didn’t try to escape. It was too difficult to even formulate that plan, and his instincts wanted him to hide under the blankets for fear of what was beyond the door. Mercifully, they never asked for details. He never offered any. Part of him wanted to, in hopes of convincing them to slip something into his water to bring on eternal rest, but he struggled with even knowing how to speak basic sentences to them.

  The darkness was the worst, when the candle had gone out and his caretakers had fallen asleep. The boat swayed with the waves, carrying him farther and farther away from Jud. Only, Jud was still inside his mind, torturing him. Would he ever leave, or would Jud’s voice always be there? Did Apexia know this would happen to him? Had she given him her Power knowing it would be used to torture him? Had she forsaken him in a way that the others couldn’t even comprehend? Had she done this to him as a punishment? What great sin had he committed to make Apexia do this to him?

  His eyelids grew heavy and his thoughts sluggish. They were drugging his broth, he knew. He didn’t care. There were no dreams whenever they gave him the broth with the bitter taste. He wished they’d give it to him all of the time so that he could simply exist in the quiet nothing that the drug provided.

  He tried to dream of yellow ribbons in blond curls, but his mind kept going dark, void of all images. Perhaps it was just for the best, he thought, as he slipped into restful oblivion.

  BETHANY LEANING AGAINST the railing, enjoying the salt air and spray hitting her face. She had been cold for so long in Taftlin, and yet she rejoiced its impending return. It felt like home, security, family.

  Arrago and Jovan approached her position together. Jovan was on crutches, and in an exhaustive amount of pain. Still, it was the kind of pain that would heal with time and mending. The pain inside one’s own mind could take a lifetime. That was the pain she feared most of all.

  “How is he?” Bethany asked.

  Jovan’s brows seemed to be permanently knitted into an expression of repressed rage. She knew the feeling well. “I am tempted to swim back to the temple to murder Jud.”

  Bethany drew in a long, deep breath of the cold, refreshing sea air. She ignored the chill in her bones, the kind that made her old wounds ache. She had plenty of those. “What did Jud do to him?”

  She hadn’t expected an answer, but Jovan tried all the same. “Jud didn’t do much while I was there, but Beth...I barely recognized Erem. He was like Jud’s dog, doing whatever his master said. It was disgusting. He broke him. I don’t know what he did, but he broke Erem.”

  Arr
ago nodded in agreement. “There’s something else not right. The healers said there’s almost no scars in Erem’s body and they know there should be. His wrists were raw when we brought him on board, but the marks are gone now. Bethany...”

  “I know,” she said, exhaustion taking over her hatred. “I know. Jud knew about us. That’s why he took Erem.”

  “It’s worse than that. I think Jud was experimenting on Erem,” Jovan said in a hushed tone.

  “Apexia wept,” Arrago swore.

  Bethany closed her eyes. She couldn’t pretend the chill was from the wind now. “That’s how he’s been one step ahead of us this entire time. He was using Erem.”

  “What are we going to do?” Arrago asked.

  Fire burned inside Bethany’s soul. Do? She was going to burn them all alive. Anyone who touched her friend. Anyone who hid Erem from the world. Anyone who delivered his food, brought him water, stood guard while he was tortured, they would burn. Burn in the name of Apexia, Gentle Goddess of destruction and mercy...

  Pain surged in her hand, where the tender cuts and bruises still dwelled. The blood drained from her eyes and she could see past the blinding rage inside her. She looked down to find Arrago’s hand gripping hers.

  “Sorry. Sorry. It’s all raw again and close to the surface. I need...I just need time.” She drew in a lungful of cold air, held for a five count, and blew it back out, leaving a cloud of hot air in front of her. “I also need to get used to the idea that we’re not turning this ship around for me to finish the job.”

  “Arrago should have let you kill him,” Jovan said.

  “I agree,” Arrago said. “I did it so that we wouldn’t start another war. But...”

  “Fuck that,” Jovan spat over the railing into the water. “I’d fight another Apexia whoring war if it meant strangling Jud with my own fucking bare hands until his eyes popped out.”

  “I’ll help,” Bethany said. “When they come, I’ll help.”

  IT WAS ANOTHER WEEK before the ships approached the docks at Castle Gree. Bethany had never been so happy to see Taftlin’s shores in her life. She soaked in the fresh air, the sights, and let out a relieved exhaled. She was home. They could spend the next months rehabilitating Erem, taking their time while rebuilding the country. She planned to keep her promise to Stanley; she would organize the country’s defenses and she would get them back on their feet. There was no doubt, now, that Jud wouldn’t rest until they were all dead. She would be prepared.

  Arrago rested his forearms on the railing and looked out at the rowboats that were being dispatched from the dock. “I suppose we’ll be the first towed in.”

  “This is the royal yacht,” Bethany said.

  Arrago smiled. “It’s good to know there are some benefits to this king business.”

  “I thought you were staying with Erem,” Bethany said.

  Arrago shook his head. “He was having nightmares again, so the healer gave him something to help him sleep soundly. They’ll help him off the ship once he wakes.”

  Bethany nodded. “Thanks. For staying with him, I mean.”

  He straightened up and put an arm around her waist. “Bethany, he’s my friend, too.”

  “I’m sorry we’ve been fighting,” Bethany whispered.

  He tugged her closer. “This isn’t fighting. I hit you with a shovel once. That’s fighting.”

  Bethany chuckled as she leaned into him. “He’s going to come for us, you know?”

  “Let him come,” Arrago said, his voice full of steel. “I am not afraid of elven invaders.”

  “You married the last elven invader,” Bethany said.

  Arrago barked out a laugh. He kissed her cheek and said, “She was our savior, not our invader.”

  Small talk passed between them. Soon, the boats arrived and tied on their ropes. The ship began to tow into the dock. Bethany and Arrago stepped off the ship first, and were greeted with a rather grim-faced Lady Selene and five knights.

  She bowed deeply and said, “Majesty, Lady Bethany, there is grave news. Lord Rutherford attacked the Winter Palace several days ago. Lord Edmund got word to us. Sir James and most of the knights stationed here, along with most of the local men, went to help.”

  Bethany stared at her in disbelief. “What? Yes...of course. Do you have horses ready?”

  “Indeed. We have an escort of forty men we trust completely and I have armour and weapons set aside, in case you had none.”

  Bethany nodded briskly at the woman. “Thank you, Lady Selene. Excellent work.”

  The lady raised her chin. “You saved my husband and two of my sons in the war, Majesty. I am forever in your debt.”

  “I need details. What has happened?” Arrago asked.

  “One of the servants delivered the letter. He will have all of the details,” Lady Selene said, motioning at a man standing back from the group.

  Arrago looked at Bethany and said, “Can you arrange things? I’ll get the details.”

  Bethany nodded. She began walking with Lady Selene, who called for the horses and bread. “Is there word of the prince?”

  She shook her head. “When Thomas arrived, that’s the servant, he said they were expecting an attack, and that Miss Amber was supposed to get Prince Henry to a monastery. There’s been no word since, and I’m very concerned. I have ordered Castle Gree secured. I have been moving the children and elderly inside, and we women have been preparing for a siege.”

  Bethany looked around. There were almost no men. “You were going to fight without any men?”

  Lady Selene stiffened her back. “This is not my first fight at Castle Gree, Majesty. I held my husband’s ancestral home for three months until the elves broke through.”

  Bethany nodded. “My apologies. It’s been...a horrible journey. Lady Selene, I need a favour.”

  “Majesty, anything,” Lady Selene said, bowing deeply.

  “I need to leave Jovan and Erem in your care. Can you look after them?”

  “Of course. Are they injured badly?”

  “Can you keep a confidence?”

  “Of course, Majesty.”

  “Do not leave Erem alone, ever. Make sure there are always enough people around him to restrain him if necessary. Do not have anything rope or rope-like in his room. No glass or anything that can be turned into a cutting weapon. Give him court shoes if he wants footwear. Don’t give him proper riding boots with the laces.”

  Lady Selene’s face flickered with shock, but she smoothed it over. “Of course. I understand completely, Majesty. I will keep him safe.”

  “Thank you.”

  “He isn’t the first of our war heroes to...come back broken.”

  “I know,” Bethany said. She gave her a small smile. “I’ve come back like it once. They wrapped me in wool blankets until I was safe from myself. But even I...even I don’t know about this.” She drew in a breath and pushed Erem from her mind. “But no time. Please keep him safe. I’ll ride to the palace as soon as the horses are ready.”

  THE FIGHTING WAS LONG over by the time Bethany and her group arrived at the palace. The city gates were opened wide for them and there was shouting and rejoicing that their king and queen arrived home in safety. Smoke rose from the palace’s chimneys. Traitors hung from trees leading to the palace. The birds had already begun their work on the bodies, and Bethany looked away.

  Jackson had an angry scab on his cheek and some new bruises, but nothing that a bit of time couldn’t cure. He pointed at a smoldering area of trees. “That part of the forest keeps catching. It’s been dry the last month, so we can’t seem to get it out. I have men cutting down the trees further back hoping to make a fire barrier.”

  “Good,” Bethany said. “Good. How many dead?”

  “On our side? A couple dozen soldiers. About double that of servants. They went after the chambermaids first. Bloody bastards. About forty or so mercenaries died outside of the palace gates. Loads of injuries, but it could have been worse. Kiner, Edmund, and Bren
nus were planning how to defend the palace when it was attacked. It could have been a lot worse.”

  Bethany frowned. “Did the ringleaders get caught?”

  Jackson shook his head. “Just the mercenary leaders. Kiner has them locked up for now, but they don’t know who hired them. Nothing to link it to Rutherford.”

  “Do you think it was him, though?” Arrago asked.

  “Talk to Kiner when you’re inside. He thinks so.”

  “Is the palace secure?”

  Jackson shrugged. “For now. Castle Gree sent help, and I tell you with no shame, we needed them. Just so you know, that little shit Darien? He stayed with Amber and Prince Henry the entire time. Sounds like he saved their lives a few times over. I might have been wrong about him.”

  “As he should have,” Bethany said. “All right. Is Kiner inside? Oh, there he is.”

  Kiner and Brennus reached them and they exchanged handshakes. Jackson said his goodbyes and the rest began a brisk walk inside.

  “Brennus, I want a tally of the deaths and injuries. Have Lord Stanley arrange compensation to the families. I want an investigation into who hired the mercenaries. Kiner, can you arrange that?”

  “Already working on it,” Kiner said.

  She nodded. “Rose? Darien? Get over here. I want a map of this palace. Public passages, servant passages, secret passages. Every window that a child or a grown man can get through. I want them documented and want it within a week.”

  Rose bowed deeply. Darien said, “Yes, Lady Bethany.”

  “Kiner, work with Jackson. I want a detailed plan drawn up for how to properly defend the palace. Then I want all of the palace guards drilled as hard as I would drill them. Understood?”

  “Yes, Bethany.”

  “From this point forward,” Bethany said, “we are going things my way. Is that understood?”

  Nods everywhere, including from Arrago.

  “Let’s get to work.”

  EREM LAY IN HIS BED wide awake. He couldn’t sleep. It was over. Was it a dream? Had he really escaped? Had he really been at Castle Gree again? Was this really the Winter Palace? Would eventually he awaken to the torture all over again?