The Exile's Redemption (The Heart of a Tyrant Book 1)

by Reece Dinn

  When will this all be over? What's taking them so long? This country is ready to burn. They should attack now while they're unprepared. While they are weak. Distracted. Then I can be free.

  The Monster snored so loud that she roused herself. She sat up with a start, then glared at Koma as if she'd woken her, holding her head. 'How long was I asleep for?'

  Koma shrugged. 'Not long. It finished. No sign of the poison.' Not that I was listening.

  The Monster groaned. 'Now what?'

  'I don't think you'll find anything here, Sabu. I thought there'd be something in these Archives just on poison. All these creatures and not one of them has anything on the subject. Either that or that Archivist isn't very good at his job.'

  'Where's he gone?'

  Koma shrugged again.

  'Gods, why is the room spinning?' The Monster fell back onto the pillows.

  'You drank the whole bottle. I said not to. Your mother allows you a glass at dinner, not a bottle.' And if you're going to drink more make sure it's enough to kill yourself with.

  'Get the Guards. We're leaving as soon as the room stops,' the Monster mumbled.

  The Monster swayed as she walked. Reluctantly Koma held her arm to steady her, struggling not to scream or vomit herself at touching her bony limb. The two Guards clinked behind them. Koma had asked them to be quiet about the fact the Monster was drunk, hoping that they wouldn't and the gossip would spread throughout the palace by the end of the day. The male Guard would likely keep his mouth shut, but hopefully the woman would not.

  The Monster waved her deformity at the grebbin she passed by, like she was waving to onlookers from the Saban's carriage. She's almost likeable when she's drunk.

  A young Archivist feeding a shelf of grebbin eyed them as they passed by, unsure what he should do.

  'Don't you look at me, boy,' the Monster slurred, struggling to free herself from Koma's grip, but her pitiful body lacked the strength to do so.

  Densema was talking with the older Archivist at the front desk, the two engrossed in what appeared to be the same scroll he'd been reading when they'd arrived. The two looked up as they approached.

  'Did you find what you need, Sabu?' asked Densema, coming around the desk.

  'No. I found nothing. Nothing,' the Monster spat, a little drool running down her chin.

  'She enjoyed the wine though,' said Koma, trying to keep a straight face.

  'I shall keep looking through our records to see if there is anything else on the subject. If I find anything I'll send them up to the palace,' said Densema.

  'That'd be useful,' said Koma. She ushered the Monster to the door. If the girl Guard doesn't say anything then these old bastards certainly will. She smirked to herself.

  A Konar by the exit banged on the stone doors and moments later they opened.

  The Monster winced at the early evening light and shielded her eyes with her deformity. Koma glanced at the two Konar to see if they'd noticed it. They hadn't, to her disappointment.

  She led the Monster to the still waiting carriage, taking the steps down to it one at a time so the Monster didn't fall. It was tempting to just let her go, but she resisted. Best not overdo her humiliation. There'll be time before the end for that.

  Over to the left a small crowd had gathered around the newsreader. The newsreader's voice was loud and deep enough to carry across the open space.

  '..advises that all citizens remain ever vigilant during these testing times. The Saban assures us that the conflict between the gangs shall be resolved as swiftly and justly as possible. If any citizen's property is damaged during this period, please report it to your local Noban immediately.'

  Do these savages ever stop fighting one another?

  The carriage driver was brushing the backs of the burmas. When he noticed Koma and the Monster he hurried to the side of the carriage and opened the door for them.

  Koma pushed the Monster up the steps, shoving her inside when she wouldn't climb. She followed her in, sitting as far away from her as possible, lest she vomit. The Monster curled up in the corner of the carriage, holding her stomach with her deformed hand, and her head with the good one. She looked even more ill than usual.

  The two Guards climbed onto the back of the carriage and moments later the carriage was moving. The Monster groaned and turned away, burying her face in the red pillow of the seat. Koma chuckled quietly, then turned away, looking out at the setting sun through the window.

  'You're drunk,' snapped Lerama as Koma ushered the Monster into the private dining room.

  The Socrae-al looked mildly amused. He leaned back in his chair, arms folded. He wore a silken white shirt lined with red thread.

  'I don't feel so good,' said the Monster. Her face was deathly pale.

  'She drank a bottle of wine, Saban,' said Koma, forcing herself to keep a straight face. Lerama's furious glare made it easier to do so.

  'You allowed her to drink?' Lerma snapped.

  'She ordered the Archivist to bring it. I couldn't stop her.' Didn't try more like.

  'I need to lie down,' said the Monster.

  Lerama abruptly rose, pushing her chair away, the light pink gown she wore glowing in the torchlight. She stormed around the table and grabbed the Monster's chin, jerking her face up into hers. The Monster groaned. 'This is not how a Saban should behave,' Lerama snarled.

  'So what?' the Monster murmured.

  Lerama slapped her hard across the face, sending her sprawling across the floor. The Monster squealed, clutching her face with her good hand.

  'Lerama, go easy on her. Her father has just died. It's only natural,' said the Socrae-al, a disturbed look on his face. 'Gods, we all did it when we were her age. At least she has a good excuse.'

  Lerama's expression softened a little. 'Why was she at the Archives?' she asked Koma, calmer now.

  'She wanted to learn about animals,' said Koma.

  'Animals?'

  'She needed a break from learning about law and government, I think.'

  'She's been doing as I asked?'

  Koma nodded. 'Yes, Saban.'

  Lerama sighed, then nodded. 'Get her up and into her seat. Some food will do her good.'

  'I'm not hungry,' the Monster whined.

  'The chef has spent all day cooking this meal. You will eat it.'

  Koma squatted down to help her up, but the Monster refused her help. She pulled herself to her feet unaided and sat down opposite the Socrae-al.

  Lerama resumed her seat at the head of the table.

  'Gods,' the Monster groaned, burying her face in her good hand.

  'When I first signed up to the army,' said the Socrae-al, ' me and some of the other men drank a whole cask of ale we'd stolen from...'

  'Oh gods,' shouted the Monster, cutting him off.

  Lerama's expression soured again. 'Do not be rude, Saima. Paulu was speaking. You will be polite and listen.'

  'It's okay, Lerama. She probably doesn't wish to hear the tales of an old soldier,' said the Socrae-al.

  'Do you need anything else, Saban?' asked Koma, trying to hide the hope that she didn't from her voice.

  'In future you will not allow her to drink without my permission, do you understand?' Lerama's eyes bore into hers. Koma held her glare, determined not to let this savage get the better of her.

  'I will try,' she said as calmly as she could.

  'I shall send for you when we are done. Go.'

  Koma bowed slightly, feeling herself cringe at having to demean herself before this ruler of the unworthy. She turned and left, closing the dining room doors behind her.

  Maybe I should try harder to convince the Monster to kill her mother. Nothing would make me happier than to watch the two of them go at it with a set of knives. Stab each other until they were both full of holes. Gods, nothing would make me happier.

  She headed down the corridor, fists clenched tight at her sides. I hate this place.

  Chapter Sixteen

  'What's the news
reader said?' asked Batterox through swollen lips.

  'Drowners and Cutters are fightin' for territory, but aren't we all in 'ere?' asked Awon.

  'Cutter himself must have stepped in and stopped 'em from takin' our turf,' shouted Red from the other cell.

  Several karron screeched as they flew by the window.

  'How'd he know the Drowners'd be comin'?' asked Awon.

  Red shrugged his huge shoulders. 'Now that's a question. Must've been watchin' us.'

  'So once we get outta 'ere we can go kill 'em? Claim their turf?'

  'If the Cutter says. He might jus' kill us instead.'

  Awon jumped down off the bench and came up to the bars, pressing his lean frame into them. 'What's he like? The big boss?'

  Red leaned against the bars of his cell, his large arms draped through the gaps. 'Bit small actually. But the meanest bastard there is. Cut yer up and eat yer, he will. Can kill a dozen men on 'is own easy.'

  'You seen him fight?'

  'Aye. He once cut a guy up from his dick right ter 'is head.'

  'Can we stop talking about cutting people dicks off, please?' said Gentemu.

  'Shut yer mouth, old man. This is fascinatin',' Awon spat.

  'You won't find it so fascinating if he comes and guts you.'

  'Yeah, well, if he tries I'll gut 'im.'

  Red and Gentemu burst into laughter at that, Batterox too. The fin-less yegeyor groaned, holding his face.

  'Don't make me laugh, lad. I'm still sore,' sniggered Batterox.

  The Konar had beaten Batterox hard. When they'd returned him to the cell the night before his whole face had been bloody, his body bruised and cut. The Konar had left a bucket of water for him to wash himself. Oaten had helped him wash. lNow that Batterox was clean his face wasn't so banged up, just a bruised left eye and cut, swollen lips. Maybe a cracked tooth.

  Awon turned back to Red. 'How's Norox doin'?'

  Red glanced back into the darkness of his cell. 'Still not talkin'.'

  'Norox,' Awon shouted. 'Yer alright?'

  Somewhere in the darkness at the back of Red's cell lay Norox. He made no sound.

  Norox had been returned to his cell shortly after Batterox had. He'd taken a worse beating. His whole face was one big bruise, with a big cut down his left eye. The fins all over his body had been cracked and broken, reduced to shards protruding from his body. He'd wailed as Ekviv and Red had washed him, but he hadn't made another sound since.

  'Leave him be, lad,' said Red.

  'Bastards,' said Batterox. He rubbed his long face.

  'What I wanta know,' said Scoten emerging out of the darkness of Red's cell, 'is where Farma went?'

  'Probably suckin' off the guards, one after another, tryin' ter make bail,' scoffed Red.

  Scoten held the sides of his head. 'Don't say that.'

  Red smirked. 'Still got a soft spot for that whore?'

  'Aye.'

  'The girl can handle 'erself. Probably be out before us. Relyin' on 'er to get Cutter ter come get us.'

  'You think she will?' asked Gentemu, the old man looking hopeful.

  'That whore won't do shit,' said Oaten, his legs stretched out up one of the walls while he did stomach crunches.

  'I agree,' said Batterox.

  'We'll see, won't we?' said Red.

  The doors down the corridor opened.

  'What now?' snarled Red.

  A quiet bleat came out of the darkness of Red's cell.

  A single set of footsteps signalled that only one Konar was approaching.

  'Well look who it is?' said Red, clapping his hands.

  Fenon stopped in between the two cells, a smug look on his face. He removed his helm, revealing a head of thick, light brown hair that curled at the ends, though it was sticky with sweat. He ran a hand through it.

  'Never thought I'd see you looked up in here,' Fenon said to Red. 'You're such a good boy, aren't you?'

  'We had a deal, cunt,' spat Red, cracking his knuckles. 'Paid good money so this didn't 'appen. Fat loada fuckin' good it did me.'

  'This had nothing to do with me,' said Fenon, placing a hand over his heart, feigning innocence.

  'Don't make me laugh.'

  'You're in the Nuchai prison, remember?'

  Red cracked another knuckle. 'What were Nuchai Konar doin' in Nograi then?'

  'You were under the district wall, I heard. Neutral territory.'

  Red sneered. 'They came from our side.'

  'Must have been easier to get to.'

  'Or Jonbu paid 'em off ter catch us and let him escape.'

  Fenon shrugged. 'Like I said this has nothing to do with me.'

  'Whatcha doin' 'ere then?'

  'I had to see this for myself.' Fenon's expression became even smugger.

  'Cunt,' grumbled Red.

  'Now, there's no need for that, is there?'

  'Let us out an' I won't gut yer, yer prick' said Awon.

  Fenon spun around to face him. 'Ah, Tenemu's boy. As pleasant as ever I see.'

  'Fuck yerself.'

  'Actually, the reason I'm here is on your account. I've brought your father. He wished to see you so I escorted him here. He's still in bad shape.'

  Awon's eyes widened. 'Fat man's 'ere?'

  Fenon nodded. 'I'm also here to inform you all that in a moons' time you are to stand trial. If you're found guilty then you'll all be karron food. The Konar-chase here was going to tell you, but I asked if I could have the honour. Figured you'd prefer a friendly face to deliver the news. The Konar-chase here is an ugly man. You'll agree when you meet him.'

  'Bastard,' Red growled.

  'You're probably right.' Fenon clapped his hands.

  Three more Konar stomped down the corridor, rifles at the ready. They spun on their heels and trained all three rifles on the occupants of Awon's cell.

  'I'm going to open this up,' Fenon said to Awon. 'Try anything stupid they'll shoot you all without question.'

  Awon looked down the barrels of the rifles, remembering what happened to Goten in the tunnel. It was tempting to see how much damage those bullet beams would do to him, but it wasn't worth the risk. Besides, he still had a score to settle, he couldn't die yet. He nodded his assent.

  Fenon pulled the lever on the wall and the door swung open.

  Awon stepped out, looked right, then left. The corridor was the same dull grey as the cell was, albeit cleaner.

  'Gods, I've gotta shit,' said Oaten as the cell door closed behind Awon.

  'Don't use the hole. The drains blocked,' cried Gentemu.

  'Use the window,' roared Batterox.

  Awon smirked, but didn't look back.

  Fenon's face twisted with disgust. He motioned for Awon to follow him and he walked back down the corridor the way he'd come. Awon followed, the other three Konar trailing him.

  Fenon led him out of the cell block and down another drably coloured corridor. Several other corridors led off from it, presumably to other cell blocks. They descended a flight of spiral stairs at the end, then down another corridor at the bottom.

  'You guys not think to paint the place?' asked Awon.

  'I know what you mean,' said Fenon, glancing over his shoulder. 'My jail is much nicer. Want me to transfer you over?' He smirked at him.

  'Not if it means lookin' at you more.'

  Fenon placed a hand over his heart. 'Ouch. You hurt my feelings.'

  'Cunt.'

  A metal door at the end of the corridor barred the way. Fenon knocked on it and a face appeared in the small hole near the top, then disappeared. Seconds later a lock clicked and the door swung open. Fenon stepped through. Awon followed. A portly Konar held the door open, his bronze breastplate all that was keeping his gut from spilling out over his white trousers. Awon blew him a kiss as he passed him by. The portly guy grimaced.

  Awon weighed his chances of beating up the Konar and escaping. If he could wrestle the rifle from one of those behind him he'd be free. But he knew he couldn't just leave Norox up in t
hose cells, he'd have to go back for him, which would mean more Konar to fight. Suddenly his chances of escape dwindled.

  'Have ter think of another way,' Awon whispered.

  Fenon glanced back over his shoulder. 'What?'

  'Said I'll have ter think of another way.'

  'To do what?'

  'Escape. Obviously.'

  Fenon chuckled. 'You planning on beating us up and escaping, eh?'

  Awon shrugged. 'Sumthin' like that.'

  'At least you're smart enough not to try it.'

  'Temptin' though.'

  Fenon opened a white wooden door on the right. 'In here,' he said, motioning for Awon to go inside.

  The room was the same grey stone as everything else in the prison. It was empty save for a table, a chair, and Awon's fat father, who sat on the other side of the table. The bruising on his face had faded, but he still looked in a bad way.

  'Whatcha doin' 'ere, fat man?' Awon asked, sitting down as the door slammed closed behind him.

  'Are you alright?' his father asked, forehead creasing with concern, the expression clearly causing him pain. 'I've been worried sick. Literally.'

  Awon shrugged. 'Yer. It's alright. Get fed twice a day. Cell smells. Company ain't great, but could be worse. Konar are cunts, but ain't they always?'

  'This isn't funny, son. You're going to be tried. They could execute you.'

  'For what?'

  His father rubbed his forehead. 'Murder. They're trying you all for murder. For gang warfare.'

  'With what proof?'

  A tear ran down his father's right cheek. 'I don't know. What's it matter? I can't believe you're in here. It's breaking my heart. Confess, please. Tell them what you did. That you're not a part of all this gang stuff. They might let you off. Or not kill you at least.'

  'Snitch? Fuck that.' Awon booted the table into his father's gut. His father grunted and pushed the table back toward him, but Awon stopped it with his foot.

  'Son, listen to me. Please,' his father pleaded. 'You're a good boy. You pretend like you're not, but I know deep down you are. You're not like them. Please, confess. You can't die.'

  Awon laughed hard, nearly falling off his chair. 'Good? Yer as stupid as yer are fat. Good? Haha.'