Dangerous Crowns

by A K Fedeau

  “Did you hear something coming from the other floor just now?”

  “What?” Another guard answered. “No.”

  “Maybe I should go down there. Something feels off.”

  Livia’s stomach tightened.

  Come on, hurry! Hamid mouthed, and the two of them raced through the archway before the guards could turn around.

  “All right,” Livia whispered. “Two more?”

  Hamid whispered back, “That’s right.”

  So they crept up the next staircase, their nerves still wire-tight.

  They emerged onto the third floor and leapt from cover to cover like rats, creeping low along the ground to stay out of the torchlight. But as they scooted past a pair of convicts sleeping in their cells, they heard a third pair of footsteps from somewhere in the dark.

  Livia froze and glanced at Hamid…

  Hamid put his finger to his mouth…

  And before either of them could react, a guard grabbed Livia from behind.

  Livia flailed and writhed as her pulse pounded in her ears. She bit the guard’s hand. He yelped. She got free and elbowed him in the gut. Another guard rushed over, then three, to see what was going on - and Hamid moved through them like a wraith, with slashes, cracks, and stabs.

  “Livia!” He yelled. “Look out!”

  Livia turned a second too late, and the first guard kicked her down with a heavy boot sole to her back.

  The guard raised his sword…

  Livia gasped and tried to roll aside…

  Until Hamid grabbed him by the shoulders and flung him to the ground.

  Livia scrambled backward as she heard a sudden snap, and the guard’s hand dragged down the wall as his body went limp on the floor. The next guard ran in with his sword drawn, and without missing a beat, Hamid grabbed the first guard’s dagger, threw it, and struck the second between the eyes.

  The guard staggered backward - one step, then two - before he fell, and his sword clattered underneath him as he crumpled in a heap. The other guards stopped twitching, and the whole hallway went still - and Livia stared at the bodies with a mix of horror and respect.

  Hamid caught his breath, then stepped back and reached down to her. “Are you all right?”

  “I will be.” Livia nodded. “It’s just been a while since I’ve seen that.”

  Livia took his hand and heaved herself up on shaky legs - and as she gathered herself, she heard someone clang on their cell bars.

  “Psst!” A man’s voice whispered across the hallway. “Over here.”

  Livia let go of Hamid’s hand and gingerly rubbed her back, then ventured down the hall one quiet, cautious step at a time. She found a battered group of soldiers in a large holding cell, some fidgeting, some standing, nursing bruised hands and black eyes.

  “Are you here to get us out?” One asked.

  “Maybe.” Livia inched forward. “Who are you?”

  “We’re part of the 38th Phalanx. We were arrested at the docks.”

  “Wait!” Hamid cut in. “We don’t know if they’ll turn on us.”

  “It’s all right.” Livia held her palm up. “I think we can use them.”

  The soldiers watched her in silence, their wide eyes blinking in the dark.

  “Who are you?” The soldier asked.

  Livia approached the cell. “I’m a friend of General Incipio.”

  “General Incipio?”

  Another leaned forward. “Do they have General Incipio?!”

  “Hector’s branded him a traitor.” Livia unlocked the door. “He’s going to be executed at dawn.”

  “Mira’s blood.” A third soldier shoved her squadmates aside. “We have to save him!”

  “They’re holding him in this cellblock, but we may have to fight our way up. He’s on the top floor, heavily guarded.” Livia opened the door and pulled the key out. “They’re changing shifts now, but I have no idea what we’ll find up there.”

  “So we follow you. Then what?”

  Livia gripped the key. “I don’t know. We’ll have to find out.”

  “We don’t have any weapons…”

  “No.” Hamid frowned. “You’ll have to make do with what you have.”

  One stared at the dead guards. “We’ve got theirs.”

  “Well.” His friend gulped. “It’s a start.”

  A couple of the other soldiers shuffled and cleared their throats - until one stood up in the back of the cell and timorously clenched his fists.

  “I’m not afraid of a fight,” he said.

  “No.” The one beside him stood up, too. “Neither am I.”

  Another added, “I’d rather die for him than Operation Nightfall.”

  “All right.” Livia backed away, then took a deep, shuddering breath. “Are you ready?”

  The first soldier strode through the open door. “Let’s go.”

  •••

  The squad’s boots thundered on the floor as they charged up the last flight of stairs, with Livia in the front and Hamid bringing up the rear.

  Their bodies crammed into the narrow passage as the light faded behind their backs, and they elbowed each other to get ahead and stepped on each other’s toes. But when they made it to the top, they found no one else there - just a long, dim corridor, with a reinforced wooden door at the end.

  “Thank the gods,” one heaved, and planted his hands on his knees. “It’s empty.”

  “We got lucky with our timing,” Hamid mumbled. “Let’s make good use of it.”

  “All right.” Livia strode a few paces down the corridor, then turned around and faced the soldiers. “Who has the highest rank?”

  A Juban woman with a long, braided ponytail came forward. “Me. I’m a lieutenant.”

  “Good.” Livia watched Hamid kneel down and pick the lock on Marcus’ door. “I have an idea coming, but I’m not sure how it’ll work. I may need you and your squad later.”

  “When?” The lieutenant asked.

  “Tomorrow at dawn.”

  “We’re going to go back down, find more weapons, and secure the floor.” The lieutenant eyed her squad. “Can you do that?”

  The other soldiers nodded.

  “Good.” The lieutenant folded her arms. “When you’re done, we’ll get back in the cell, so it looks like nothing’s wrong. But give us a set of keys, so we can break out when you need us.”

  Livia fumbled with the keys, then handed them over. “That’s a yes?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The lieutenant straightened her back. “Tell General Incipio we’re here for him.”

  “All right.” Hamid got to his feet. “The lock’s done.”

  Livia wiped her brow. “Thank you so much.”

  “Take as long as you need with him.” Hamid headed for the stairs. “I’ll be watching for guards.”

  “Wait!” Livia called after him. “Will you be here when I’m done?”

  “I will.”

  Livia bit her lip. “Do you promise?”

  “I promise.” Hamid stared into her eyes. “Now go.”

  •••

  Livia took two slow, deliberate steps into Marcus’ cell, and felt an eerie pall in the room as she carefully shut the door.

  She found Marcus in the cloak she’d given him and a tunic like her own, at a knotty wooden table beneath a barred window. He sat across from an iron-rack bed hanging from chains on the wall, writing on a piece of parchment like no one had come in.

  “Marcus?” Livia crept closer. “Marcus, are you all right?”

  “Oh,” Marcus answered, in a soft, melancholy voice. “It’s you.”

  The lamp on Marcus’ table flickered, and Livia got a closer look at his head - and she saw that someone had shorn his hair so short, they left bloody nicks on his scalp.

  “Marcus, your hair!” She cried out to him. “What did they do to you?”

  “Go away.” Marcus stopped writing. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  Livia’s chest tightened as
she searched for something to say, and Marcus dipped his pen in his inkwell without even turning his head.

  “At least have the dignity to look at me.”

  Marcus finally did as she asked, and Livia saw finger bruises on the side of his throat.

  “I don’t think they’ll leave a pension for me after this. But I’ve got a little coin put away in case I ever needed it.” Marcus looked back at his inkwell and tapped the excess ink off his pen. “I’ve left some to my mother, in case they take away my father’s, too. But the rest is yours. I’ve left coded directions for how to get to it.”

  Livia’s face twisted with horror. “You can’t be serious.”

  Marcus didn’t answer.

  “You’re not actually going through with it.”

  Marcus opened his mouth and took a deep breath before he spoke.

  “Livia - in the past three months, I’ve become someone I don’t recognize. I’ve lied, manipulated, stolen, and desecrated my uniform.” He set his pen down as he continued, his voice still dreary but calm. “And what came of it? They’re still going ahead with Operation Nightfall. The city I love is burning, and Hector is still on the throne.”

  Livia’s grimace grew deeper and deeper as she shook her head.

  “At the end of the day, I’m a man of duty. I have to go where I’m told. I see that now.” Marcus sat up straight, with almost too much dignity for the chair. “That may not mean much to you, but it’s been my compass since I was eighteen years old. I’ve run from it long enough. At least I can do one last thing right.”

  Livia backed away from the table, too disgusted to respond.

  “Now. Listen.” Marcus slid his chair back and stood up from the table. “When they come for me tomorrow…”

  “They’re not going to. Not while I…”

  “No, Livia, please. Shh.” Marcus raised his hand to silence her. “When they come for me tomorrow, the whole city will turn out. All the prefects will be watching the scaffold.”

  “Mar…”

  “Livia, hush.” Marcus went on. “Everyone will be distracted. It’ll be the perfect time for you to slip out. You can leave the city.”

  “And do what?” Livia protested. “Where do you expect me to go?”

  “I don’t know. You can change your name. Maybe live with Hamid for a while. You’re resilient. You’ll survive anything.” Marcus sank onto the edge of the bed. “I know the weather’s rough, but Severin wouldn’t be so bad. The spy who tried to kill Hector? They’d probably give you a royal welcome.”

  “That has nothing to do with this.”

  “It has everything to do with it. You don’t need me.” Marcus tucked his chin. “You’ll be fine on your own.”

  “I know I don’t need you.”

  “Livia, don’t make this any harder than it is.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Livia’s nostrils flared. “Because you’re wrong.”

  Marcus hesitated, and his tired, stoic face almost cracked.

  “I saw the way your face lit up when I told you we could end the war. You’re not just a soldier. You’re a hero.” Livia gripped his shoulders and gazed into his eyes. “You may shrug off your victories, but I know what you want. To do right. And if you weren’t so busy falling on your sword, you’d see this is your chance.”

  Marcus’ troubled expression softened as he listened to her.

  “Now, I’ve got a bunch of soldiers downstairs from the 38th Phalanx. They were arrested earlier today. They wouldn’t get on the boat to Jormunthal.” Livia spoke without pausing for breath and stared too hard to blink. “They risked their lives to help me break in here and get you out. And I am not going back and telling them that you chose to let them down.”

  Marcus turned his eyebrows up in confusion and whispered, “What?”

  “That’s right. They disobeyed orders for you. And if you won’t do it for them, do it for me. Because I didn’t come all the way up here to kiss you goodbye.”

  Marcus’ arms slumped into his lap as Livia’s words sank in.

  “I’ve lived without you, Marcus. It’s a bitter, unfulfilling life. If you want to give up now, fine.” Livia snarled. “But you won’t be half the man I thought you were.”

  A silence hung between them, and neither of them dared to move - until Marcus threw his arms around her and pulled her to his chest.

  Livia buried her face in Marcus’ throat as he cradled her head, and she clawed at the back of his tunic as his strong arms squeezed her ribs. They sighed into each other’s skin and breathed each other’s air, and they held each other tighter than they ever had before.

  “I don’t deserve you,” Marcus murmured, and screwed his eyelids shut.

  “Yes you do, dammit.” Livia sniffed. “Just get out of here alive.”

  They lingered for another minute, and Marcus stroked Livia’s back - and after he gathered himself, he pulled her ear close to his mouth.

  “You said something about soldiers?”

  “I did.” Livia rubbed her nose. “They’re downstairs. Hamid’s with them. I’m starting to put together a plan.”

  “A plan? What kind?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like it before.” A spark lit in Livia’s eyes. “It’s a long shot. Very long. But it could be our only chance.”

  CHAPTER 22

  The next morning, a chilly haze blew over the Vincula, where a murmuring crowd gathered around a wide wooden scaffold.

  Merchants, clerics, maids, beggars, artisans, and drunks elbowed each other aside and peered over each other’s heads. Prefects hovered at the edges to keep the crowd under control, and Hector fidgeted in the upholstered seat of his covered box.

  In the buildings around the square, hooded figures watched from the highest floors, with crescent moons on their armor belts and quivers on their backs. Three in attics. Four on rooftops. One in an abandoned flat. Two on the Vincula turrets, peeking over the parapet. Livia herself lurked in the window of a fourth-floor storeroom, and the leather of her gloves creaked as she tightened her grip on her bow.

  In the distance, someone shouted, and glass shattered down the street. An argument echoed from an alley, but the prefects didn’t move. Around them, the city smoldered, but for the moment, the courtyard stood still - a corner of fragile, restless silence in the roiling chaos.

  And in a round stone room at the top of the left turret, Marcus watched Hamid fasten himself into an executioner’s gear.

  “So…” Marcus began, as he fidgeted with his hands - “you’re the Hamid Livia’s always telling me about.”

  “And you’re the great General Incipio.”

  Marcus tucked his chin. “I don’t know about ‘great.’”

  “She said you were humble,” Hamid remarked. “I thought she was being generous.”

  Hamid strapped on his bracers as footsteps echoed up the stairs, and the lieutenant from the 38th Phalanx strode through the doorway.

  “Sir.” She saluted. “I’ve passed your message up the chain of command. Ligari knows. She’s ready.”

  “I knew I could count on her.” Marcus reached up and adjusted the clasp on his cloak. “Now. Go down and have the rest of the phalanx blend into the guards. Keep your distance if you have to. Just don’t be suspicious.”

  The lieutenant nodded. “Understood.”

  As she turned away, Marcus called out, “Wait.”

  The lieutenant glanced back at him. “Sir?”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Okafor, sir,” the lieutenant said. “Xenia Okafor.”

  “Chin up, Okafor,” Marcus told her. “You’ll be a captain if both of us make it out.”

  Xenia nodded again, more forcefully this time. “Yes, sir!”

  And as she hurried back down, Hamid buckled his sword belt.

  “All right.” Marcus raised his eyebrow. “Why are you really doing this?”

  Hamid answered in a deadpan voice. “Out of the goodness of my heart.”

&n
bsp; “That so?”

  “Livia’s like a sister to me. I’m looking out for her.”

  “Come on. You’re a professional. There has to be something in it for you.”

  “Fine. I want protection for Syndicate goods moving through the northern strait, and immunity from searches and seizures at the Histrian docks.” Hamid paced across the room and picked up a flat-tipped sword. “I have twelve sentences I want commuted, eight cases I want closed, and I want part of the public tax to go to renovating the slums.”

  Marcus whistled under his breath.

  Hamid frowned. “If you can’t do it, tell me now.”

  “No. I’ll talk to Livia.” Marcus stood up straighter. “At least I owe you that.”

  As Hamid sheathed the sword, a commotion started to brew outside, and Marcus peered at the gray sky through the tall, narrow window.

  “Now.” Hamid took a pair of iron handcuffs off the table, then waved Marcus over, picked up the key, and pointed to the lock. “Watch how I put these on you. You see the locks are on the sides. You’ll have to unlock it while you’re not looking, so practice a few times.”

  “You’re going to give me the key?”

  “I am. Just hold it in your fist. Wait until you put your head down to start, so people don’t see you doing it.”

  Hamid slapped the cuffs on Marcus’ wrists and handed him the key, and Marcus poked at the locks without looking until it came apart.

  “All right,” he mumbled. “I think I’ve got it.”

  “Good.” Hamid tapped the end of the chain as he fastened the cuffs back on. “If you lose the key, or anything fails, these ends are the weak spot. You can bash them open. It’s not perfect, but at least you’ll separate your hands.”

  “You seem pretty confident that all this is going to work.”

  “It’s not my first execution.” Hamid smirked. “I’m hoping it won’t be the last.”

  “Something tells me the others didn’t have the royal guard watching them.”

  “I like a challenge.” Hamid rubbed his hands. “It’s been too long since I’ve had one.”

  And with that, the crowd grew louder, and a draft crept through the walls - and the guards outside beat a slow, ominous rhythm on their drums.

  Hamid asked, “Are you ready?”