An Emperor's Fury: Most Favored

by Paul Heisel

  #

  "Taawn, is that you? Taawn! They told me you were dead!"

  Feln shut the door with a crunch as flakes of rust were crushed in the tight seam. The voice was familiar, regal, and brought back memories of his youth traipsing around the castle. It had to be a man he knew, but how could that be? Why was he here in the dungeons? As he secured the door, he prepared himself to be assailed by requests for release by the numerous prisoners.

  "No, it isn't Taawn," Feln said, keeping his voice low. Without waiting for a response, Feln took the sputtering torch and moved forward. He was in an unused dungeon cell. The cell door looked damaged so no one could lock it. He went through the iron door, careful not to make too much noise, and thrust the torch at the gray cold wall. There was another torch in a sconce and it was unlit, and he put his torch against the new one to light it.

  "Who's there? Who are you?"

  "My name is not important. Quiet!"

  There was silence. The new torch caught fire and illuminated the hallway and the block of cells. Feln took it and put his sputtering torch in the sconce, soon it would be spent. The cell he had come from looked as if it hadn't been used. It was bare except for a stone bench, a small hole in the floor, and the secret door he had come from. The walls separating the cells looked thick and strong, and the cell bars looked formidable. This dungeon was built to last.

  "Why have you come?" the voice asked.

  "Quiet!"

  "Please, I'm locked up here, alone. No one else is down here! There's no need for silence. Check the other cells, there is no one else down here!"

  Feln did a quick review of the cells up and down the hallway. Only one had a man clawing the air with his arms through the bars, the others were empty save for debris and remains.

  "What crime did you commit to be shut away by yourself?"

  "I have committed no crime! My name is Makison Borgard, the rightful heir to the Borgard throne. My brother Jakks imprisoned me for no other reason than he wanted the throne. Taawn, who I thought you were, visited me." He paused, the moment lingering. "Will you not let me go free?"

  "I see no reason to free you," Feln said.

  "You come from the Accord of the Spirit, yes? A monk? Release me so I can stop this madness. I know about the war! The armies will listen to me. I can stop the fighting! I can bring peace!"

  Feln thought Makison had been considered a reasonable man, but particular details of his character he couldn't remember. As a child, you don't remember such things. Feln recalled that Makison had died on a hunting trip at the same time Frederick Borgard had died, giving the crown to Jakks. That was scandalous in the least, coincidental at best. What concerned Feln was Makison knew about what was happening outside of the dungeons. Another person besides the now dead Taawn had visited him in the last day or two. It also meant he couldn't be trusted, not yet. Desperate men will say anything.

  "There's nothing you can do to stop this war," Feln said. He could hear the bars rattling down the cell block.

  "Set me free!"

  The sound seemed loud and Feln cringed, half expecting guards to come running through the door at the end of the cell block. He stepped to the wall, blinked, and hid. Moments passed and no one arrived.

  "Don't waste your energy," Feln said. "If what you say is true, I'll free you later. If I remember."

  "You're a kind and generous monk, please, have compassion. Taawn, he would have released me if he hadn't died. Please help me."

  Feln stepped down the hallway, the torch casting light up and down the block. It felt cold to him down here, and a chill went through him as he thought about having to pass by Makison to exit this part of the dungeon. As he walked, Feln laid his eyes upon the man who should be king of Borgard. Makison had wasted away, and though Feln had predicted this, the sight was more disturbing when he recognized the face. Thin and wiry, pale from years of imprisonment, the former prince had become a haggard man, looking like a shadow of his former self. The odd thing was Makison looked cleaned up; he had no facial hair and his hair was haphazardly cut short. His clothing was new, unstained, not ripped or frayed. The same person bringing him information had brought him new clothing, and had given him a razor to shave and to cut his hair. The look was fresh, as if he had been prepared.

  Preparations for what? A return to the throne?

  A hand reached out of the cell bars toward him, grasping for freedom. "Please," Makison begged. "I'll give you anything. I'll promise you anything if you release me. Please release me. I beg you, I beg you!"

  "You have no power to change the course of past events, to prevent this war from ever happening," Feln said. "You have no authority to stop the war, you're not king. You're useless to me."

  The arm retreated into the cell as if stung. "That voice…I know you…don't I?"

  Feln came to a stop and jammed the torch into another sconce to free his hand. He felt sorry for this man, left here to wither away. Feln removed the cowl from his robe to reveal his face.

  "Francis? Francis Surrey?"

  "I'm Francis Eln Surrey the Second. Feln is my name. Francis Surrey was my father. Your brother Jakks executed my father ten years ago, leaving me an orphan. My father believed Jakks was ruining this kingdom. His views got him killed as a traitor."

  "Feln, Feln! The boy! The boy! It's so good to see a friendly face." Makison's voice was genuine and kind. "Please, I beg you, set me free. I'm so sorry, I didn't know your father had died. I will make amends for your father's death, I promise. You'll have whatever you want, repayment for everything you have suffered. I will punish Jakks. I promise you! Let me out of here!"

  "You're in no position to make promises, you're a prisoner."

  "Then why have you come here?"

  "I was trapped in a tunnel," he said. "This was my only choice - to come here."

  "You've come here to force my brother to surrender," Makison spoke. "You're going to do this alone?" Makison laughed. "Jakks will have numerous well-armed guards. You won't make it far and you won't force him to surrender - he'll never surrender, not to one monk." Makison babbled on about how he could help, how he could stop the war, and how he would reward Feln if only he would release him.

  Feln ignored his pleas. The noise of a door opening and closing echoed in the distance, as did footfalls hurrying along the ancient stone.

  "You have no time to lose," spoke Makison. "You'll be discovered and they'll bring the whole castle down upon you. Side with me and I can guarantee your safety. Decide now," he whispered.

  "Quiet." Feln stepped away from Makison's view and blinked.

  #

  Velinole trudged forward with a lantern in his hand. In his pocket was the only key to Makison's cell, and the large metal thing dug into his leg with every step, punishing him for every dastardly deed he had ever committed. He was going to free Makison, and if he were lucky, he would survive this ordeal. The layers of deceit were many, too many for him to remember. It was time, though, to begin a new legacy of treachery. Change would be welcome, and of course, profitable for him.

  The light stretched forward as Velinole raised his lantern - had he seen something? Heard something? Was Makison talking to himself again? He came to a stop in front of Makison's cell, put down the lantern and reached into his pockets for the key. He looked up. Makison was deathly pale, sickly looking. Velinole left the key in his pocket and put his hand on his dagger. He couldn't see anything, but experienced an unexpected presence that he shouldn't feel so deep in these dungeons. There was also a smell of dirt, as if a gardener had been toiling in the soil and hadn't cleaned up from the day's work. Everything looked normal, except for Makison. Velinole glanced at the wall and looked directly at the torch burning there. A torch?

  It registered.

  #

  Feln let go of his chi, strode forward, and came behind Velinole. Lightning quick, he grabbed him from behind and cinched his neck, using his free hand to keep Velinole from using his dagger. Blood flow to the head stoppe
d. Velinole struggled, but he was no warrior, and moments later he went slack. Feln dropped him to the ground, knowing he would become conscious in ten or twelve seconds. This bastard was an advisor to the Borgards, wielding power from behind the throne. This weasel was one of many faithful to the Borgards, but Velinole in particular was a scoundrel of the worst sort, scum. Even as a ten year old, he had known who the louts were. This man was instrumental in Borgard treachery, probably responsible for his father's death. Feln took Velinole's dagger and discarded it.

  Velinole awoke and writhed on the ground. He sat up, his fear apparent, and stared at Feln. His hand casually searched for his weapon, but didn't find it. The shifty eyes drifted up. "You're…you're dead. I saw your head removed from your neck! You're dead!"

  "My name is Feln. It's my father you speak of, Francis the First. I know who you are."

  Velinole stood using the cell bars for support, trying to dust off his royal green robes. He wriggled as if he had an itch but no way to scratch it. His advisor composure returned. "Ah yes, the little Surrey brat returns, no doubt to vanquish all of us with your bare hands. So that is where you disappeared to…" Velinole's eyes drifted, and though Feln tried, he couldn't tell what Velinole was looking at. A thought must have stopped Velinole cold, because he said nothing more.

  The bars next to them rattled and creaked. Makison shook the bars with additional vigor. "I don't care who does it, one of you release me! Whoever does will have a fortune, whoever doesn't will lose his head!"

  Velinole hissed, trying to get Makison to shut up. "I was about to do that, but it seems we have an Accord of the Hand monk in the castle. I can only guess why you're here, let me see, you found the tunnel, which means you escaped when the monastery was torched. Now you've come here to capture the king. Surely you know many guards will be ready for you? Many Knights of the Jackal protect Jakks, and behind them stand battle-hardened protectors. You're foolish. I can't believe they sent one monk to do the work of thousands."

  Feln gave no answer.

  "I do have another question, hmmm, how did you get in here? Where is the secret door?"

  Feln remained silent, the best course of action was to let Velinole ramble and for him not to answer any questions. This gave him another bargaining chip to consider as his plan formed, but he was certain he couldn't take two men with him. There would be too many chances for failure, so he could only manage one guest. Velinole would be valuable because he would know intimate details of what was going on. Any information he had would be useful. On the other hand, he wasn't trustful at all, not in the least. Stretching the truth was one thing Velinole did well. The decision made itself, and Feln understood what he needed to do so he could get to the meeting place, then escape. He snatched Velinole by the shoulder.

  Velinole's eyes flipped wide open and he resisted, striking with his fists. The Accord of the Hand monk deflected the blows easily and spun Velinole around, forcing him to his knees.

  "Don't kill me," he pleaded. "I'll tell you anything. Everything…your mother…I know about your mother! Kill me and you'll never know what happened to her!"

  The words rang true, although it took a moment for Feln to realize why Velinole was acting so desperate - he thought he was going to die. The words finally sunk in. Mother. What in the devil was he talking about? What does he know about my mother?

  "My mother died bringing me into this world." Feln remembered what Suun had said, they hadn't found her body. Could his mother be alive? Could she be somewhere? Maybe Velinole knew where she was! Maybe Suun was wrong in thinking she was dead. "Start talking."

  "She was imprisoned down here by the Borgards," Velinole said, voice nasal and congested. "Jakks Borgard had her imprisoned. Over there. That was her cell. She died a horrible death of pain, torture, and starvation. Jakks did it, Jakks is responsible!"

  Feln followed Velinole's hand motion, his eyes settling on a cell. He could see skeletal remains. His heart sank. They had imprisoned her, done terrible things to her, and left her there to die, never giving her the chance to see her son grow up. Why had they imprisoned her? Why did she have to die? Feln quelled his anger, suppressing it, but he wasn't sure he could contain it any longer. His father had talked how wonderful his mother had been as a friend and spouse. She had an infectious laugh and a sense of humor that would bring everyone in a room to tears. Sari Roan had also been a great speaker and had been on her way to becoming a diplomat. She had given up her station, though, to marry Francis Surrey. His father had spoken about her stubbornness and sense of justice, as she had strong views on what was right and what was wrong. He wondered, though, if her strength here was driven by her station in Pyndira. Suun said she was important…

  "Keep talking," Feln said. "Why did this happen?"

  "Jakks was jealous, so jealous of your father. In the social circles, they couldn't believe Sari Roan would be interested in a commoner, a musician for shades sake! It didn't bode well for her when she rejected Jakks Borgard. It did not. Oh, no one refuses Jakks. When Sari married, it was like a dagger through his heart, and he plotted his revenge while your parents were rutting to make you. When she was with child - you," Velinole pointed to Feln, "Jakks plotted to have her murdered. The opportune time came when she was weak, right after your birth. I was not privy to all of the details, but the result is over there. When Jakks was really drunk, he used to brag about destroying her life. She was chained in that cell and left to die. Jakks used to visit her. He told me all of the tawdry details." Velinole sighed. "She begged him for release and promised him favors of an unsavory sort. All of which she was very capable of performing." Velinole's eyes darted left and right. "Very capable indeed. Have you heard enough? Would you like me to describe the lurid acts Jakks says she committed, prior to and after being imprisoned? Or have you been sheltered from the pleasures of a woman because of your monastic order? Oh, that's right, you aren't like the Spirit Ones. But you're hardly a man…"

  Feln didn't answer, his mind trying to sort out what Velinole had said, trying to ascertain the truth. He couldn't trust Velinole, and Feln doubted much of what he had said was factual. This snake wanted only to stay alive and he would bend the truth to do that.

  "I've heard enough," Feln said. "I understand that Jakks must pay for his crimes, including what happened to my mother, and he will. When he's on his knees ready to die at the whim of the Accord of the Hand, he'll speak the truth as you have. You better pray his story is the same as yours."

  Velinole let out a long breath through his nose. "Yes, I have spoken the truth. Jakks Borgard is to blame for your mother's death. He's the man you want. Please, kill the bastard and do all of us some good. We need to be rid of him."

  "Open Makison's cell," Feln demanded.

  Velinole took the key. His hand quivered as he slipped it into the lock, rattling and clanking. As Velinole removed the key, Feln snatched it from him. The door swung open and Makison tried to get out. Feln pushed him back.

  "It's not your time yet," Feln said. "I'll return for you."

  "I don't understand! Release me!"

  The man had no weight to him, and Feln pushed him farther into the cell with ease. Makison collapsed. With a rough hand, Feln grabbed Velinole and dragged him into the cell. He threw the sniveling weasel to the ground next to Makison. After locking the door and sealing both of them inside, he went to his mother's cell to see it for himself.

  #

  "You're one slimy bastard," Makison whispered through clenched teeth. Freedom had slipped from his fingers and he couldn't stand it any longer. "When we get out of here I'm going to put your head on a pike."

  "One thing at a time," Velinole said. "He'll release us so we may help him take his revenge upon Jakks, he'll be so angry that he'll foolishly attack the king. You see, he needs both of us. I have information, you have the power as the true king. He needs both of us."

  "Is that your useless plan?"

  "Best I can come up with. We can use this Accord of the Hand
brat to solve our problem for us. If he succeeds in killing Jakks, then we can have others hack him to pieces when he least suspects it. As long as he kills Jakks for us, I don't care. I'm firmly on your side."

  "No wonder you've been in the employ of my family so long, you're a snake."

  Velinole sighed. "I kept you alive these long years, just you remember that."

  #

  Feln could hear them whispering, yet he couldn't make out what they were saying. It mattered not. They could make plan after plan, but it wouldn't prevent him from getting out of here alive. In front of him was the place where his mother, a woman he had never known, had died at the hands of the Borgards. There were so many things he wanted to know, and he wondered how different his life would have been with his mother caring for him. It was true; his father did a good job of raising him for the first ten years of his life, yet Feln pondered often if his mother's influence would have changed him. If she had lived, would he still be here as a monk from the Accord of the Hand? Would he not be on the other side, defending the Borgards as a soldier or knight, ready to meet the invaders head on? Or would he be in Pyndira? Would he be Suun's friend? Worst of it, he would have never met Owori.

  The cell in front of him was small and contained a stone slab; it was a black rock flecked with gray and pink striations. Embedded in the stone slab were rusty iron shackles. There were loose bones and a skull and layers of dust, cobwebs were everywhere. Bits of cloth clung to the bones. Feln unlocked the cell with Velinole's master key and opened the door, the squeak reverberated in the secret prison, and he entered after the harsh sound subsided. He was sad and upset, yet he had never known his mother, he had only imagined her. Could the skeleton be one of Velinole's tricks? Was this truly his mother? Everything looked untouched, unchanged for countless years. It was a sadder scene than he could have ever dreamed of. Suun came to mind - could this be true? His mother was from Pyndira? Is this why they couldn't find her? She was imprisoned by Jakks?