Traitor to the King

by Clare SM Keating

Those thoughts caused the red head to grind her teeth together in frustration as she made sure her hair was tucked beneath her new white hood and Ling had done the same. Karani and Damara were wearing the white robes of the priests to show their importance and holiness in finding the stone. Anouk grumbled to herself softly in thought as she considered what was going to happen next and how this party would not be to her pleasure and unnecessary. Having a party just before they could be attacked by a massive army of demons was not a valuable use of their time….

  They reached the great iron gates that were opened wide for them to march through and into chaos! The moment the stone began to gleam against the black fabric there was a great scream and roar of utter delight as the crowds seemed to erupt from the earth itself. There were more people out on the streets and market plazas then the arranged curfew should have allowed and as the group were marched past the steps of the library they were smothered in beautiful flowers to show their adoration and love. Flowers were expensive, difficult things to be simply thrown out to them as such things were so special and the sight of them made Karani and Damara burst into tears. The reaction caused the Karayan to pause slightly, turn about and shift his mouth within the mask as if to smile at them.

  People were screaming for the Karayan and the others, it was a confusing situation for him considering not long ago they were all terrified of him. It was a little unusual for Karayan to be called to with love and appreciation, something he could not recall ever feeling in his entire life. To be fair, Karayan could not cry because of his curse but he could feel an unusual warmth within his heart that was wonderful but not as beautiful as something else he knew. The people were being so very kind to him and it just seemed so very different and caused the Karayan to breathe a gentle sigh of relief and bow his head in thanks to everyone that spoke to him.

  Alard found himself curiously uncomfortable with the situation and grasped hold of Ling’s wrist firmly for assistance in dealing with what was going on. Alard was not used to having things thrown at him with love and he was not used to being accepted the way he was by the people of Virenheim right now. Above the surface people feared him because of his pact with Anouk Benaga and believed that he could be used to murder anyone that did not accept her views, but now they were praising him? Ling was startled by the grasp of Alard’s arm and she found herself looking up to him with a thick blush on her face. In fact, her expression was so shocked that she found her heart beating with excitement, more so for Alard’s attention then for the praise being swamped on her. In fact, she was scared by this sensation and quickly pulled her hand from his hard grasp and swiftly clasped his shoulder.

  “I still owe you for what I broke… I’m sorry buddy I hope you’re not angry with me.” Ling stated with a grimace of concern and to her surprise Alard smiled down at her and gently patted her shoulder. He was too nervous to say anything with the eyes of the crowd upon them, but the message was clear that she was forgiven. Ahead of them Karani and Damara were blushing so heavily and so happily that many people appeared in love with their delight. Anouk kept her eyes flicking back and forth at Yeruell and noticed he was staring at the back of Karayan’s head with daggers in his eyes. She did not appreciate it all and wondered what her old friend might think if he knew that the stranger had saved her life and was probably one of the only people she believed in. But then she noticed that Jarl was starting to pull back as if he wanted to run away from the attention and swiftly, Anouk stretched forward and grasped him gently at the shoulder to pull him back and whisper in his ears.

  “If one remarkable thing has come from this Jarl, it is my belief that I was wrong on my thoughts… also your father is going to be very pleased with you.”

  The group were marched through the main market in screams of pleasure until they reached the lower plaza near the Council Bunker where there was an unpleasant image meeting their eyes. They were stopped before they could move further forward, and Anouk stepped to the others and gave a snarl of frustration; Sarag was being held back by members of the Core from the beaten and bloodied form of Ijah. She hissed at the sight of the traitor but also at Sarag’s lack of control though she knew it would have been worse if she were in the boy’s position. With a sigh of frustration, they let Anouk step through the group and go over to the injured and chained form that was wheezing heavily upon the ground. Sarag tried hard to get through the soldiers so that he could get a chance to hold onto the traitor and allow Anouk to slaughter him; however, Anouk merely sat him up and got him to stare at her.

  “Tell me Ijah… did you know your father was possessed? Did you know who or what was controlling him? Why did you let Kaloon die?” Anouk was gentle in her questioning, but she knew very well that Ijah was not the kind to talk. The part of her that had been trained for such, requested mentally to deliver a dose of her poisonous blood cocktail and cause so much pain his tongue would loosen. Torture was not a useful way to get information of course, it was more a deterrent, but some of the poisons were very good in activating the mind to react as if drunk. Anouk wished to dive in and get to work but it was inappropriate to do so considering she was in the position of his commander and whatever knowledge she gained would not be accepted by the council. Although Anouk was the head executioner and could kill him already, she knew any information was vital and so she turned toward the waiting members of the police, who would probably just beat a few answers out of him. “Be gentle with him… the information he has could be of more importance then you could imagine.”

  Ijah remained silent, dreadfully silent as if he had indeed known something but not the complete picture and was shamed. The slender silver-haired figure was pulled onto his feet and yanked towards a small office near the financial booth where he would undergo a brutal interrogation. Though it was frowned upon to see someone hit in public or to acknowledge that the police did a fair amount of beating, Anouk regrettably chose to ignore the possibility although Damara was swift to grab her by the wrist and look at her sister pleadingly. For Damara the memories of Talon’s tattered state when he’d been beaten by the police rang in her head, but Anouk pulled from her grasp and gave a soft growl.

  “Do not speak unless you are asked directly by the king or have my permission. The only people within our group with the rank to open their mouths are the Karayan and I. Is that understood?” A bitter tone had returned to Anouk’s scowling face and Damara steadily nodded her head in acceptance alongside the others. Jarl had thought for a moment that her words were wrong regarding himself, but he had no rank whilst his father was alive and would not be foolish enough to raise his voice in the presence of the king anyway. The group watched the door open to the council chamber and Sarag stepped amongst them to march down into a centre strip where a blue carpet lay for those involved to sit and listen. There were sudden deep intakes of breath from the others and the moment they saw the stone throne surrounded by the thick creamy-foggy veil and the robe clad figures of the King’s Watchers, their tongues were robbed of words.

  Anouk sat calmly beside her sister and Karani with the Karayan on the other side of Alard with Ling and Sarag to his side. He could sense some form of hostility coming from the Aeron male and assumed it was regarding Anouk’s peril. About them the other lords shuffled inside with whimpers and whispers of excitement and concern over the situation with Ijah and the possibility of trouble. But the moment they spotted the throbbing stone within the Karayan’s grasp, they all went silent and sat down to await the king’s arrival. Of them all, Yeruell and Lutas were the last to settle into their positions, having quickly spoken to each other in a corner just out of earshot. The Karayan sensed their hostility as well but he was aware of the Speaker’s distaste for him.

  “My lords and our honoured guests… King Otzell has arrived to greet you and bestow his gratitude upon you.” Yeruell called out to them and then stepped up onto the platform beside the veil where there was some shifting. The stone seemed to start vibrating within the air and eyes flickered f
rom the glowing crystal to the shadowy form of the king as he stepped off his throne with the veil still smothering him. The eyes in the room widened in delight although Anouk immediately encouraged them all to lower themselves in respect as the king allowed the veil to be pulled aside. Everyone was frozen as the hands, rickety and old with their curious spots of colour, trembled towards the stone and all eyes were averted so as not to offend the king.

  The Karayan felt suddenly very afraid and angry at the sensation of the king’s hands straining around the cloth and gently the being locked his eyes with those of the king. The royal froze in his trembling, weakened, decrepit form as Yeruell turned his head toward them and glowered at the stranger. The cursed being breathed a heavy sigh before pulling his hands away the moment their warmth was snatched by the freezing clawed forms of the king’s hands. The Karayan snarled within his mask, his eyes narrowing in frustration as the king wrapped his hands about the stone and the colour changed from blue to an amazing aqua green. Otzell took in a deep breath of relief and as the aqua stone began to produce soft waves of blue about it, the king’s body began to change. His back straightened, skin relaxed and muscles began to return to him as he shuddered and wheezed with the fresh life coming into his very body.

  The king did not become suddenly young however, the power of this new stone was not enough combined with the others to cure his damaged body completely and instead he was brought back to the vigour of his seventieth year. His hair grew back about his ears and the back of his head, the ears straightened, a soft white beard formed upon his chin and he no longer stooped. Otzell remained in the form of an elder man but a warrior all the same that appeared capable of fighting and this transformation encouraged the king to smile and speak.

  “Well done my beloved children… you have not only revealed the troubles within our land but restored something so important I can hardly explain how much it has assisted my body. Our barriers are strengthening and for this we will survive the demon attack that you believe is due.” The voice was deeper, less hoarse and weak but it allowed all eyes to lift and stare up at him shinning in awe.

  For Damara, Karani, Jarl, Ling, Alard and Sarag who had never seen his form before it was a hallowed moment of pleasure. They had assumed he would probably be stooping considering his age but to see him standing tall and possibly like he might be able to swing a sword, their faces split with happy smiles as tears dribbled to the corners of their eyes. There was nothing so magnificent then the deep voice, the strength of body and the return of the beauty within the king’s eyes that bathed them all with affection and kindness to see the youngsters looking up at him with as much awe and delight as their elders. The king noticed though that Anouk had not lifted her head and he gave a soft sigh of understanding.

  “I do not wish to waste strength with words, so I will state what it is necessary to say – there will be a wonderful party for you all tonight but once the party is over preparations for evacuation will continue. With the information on the development of spores at the Goblin Meadow we must assume the attack will come sooner rather than later.” Otzell stated and though the youngsters were filled with glee and many of the nobles were excited by the opportunity, Yeruell stepped forward to whisper into the king’s ears. His great greyish coloured ears flickered slightly with thought as he listened to the words and Anouk grimaced as she recognised Ijah’s name being brought up. Once Yeruell pulled away the king nodded his head and then lifted his hand, before turning one long finger to point downwards… a sign known only in trials as a death sentence. “Very well… Floryas can you bring Ijah in to have the chance to talk; he can be executed in the public square tomorrow at noon.”

  There were a few shocked gasps and grunts of frustration at the thought but Lord Floryas bowed low in his neat black cassocks as he spun on his heel and marched toward the entrance. With no sound audible within the bunker, everyone present was shocked as the door was open and there were screams from a woman. As some of the lords stood up ready to go and inspect the scene, the woman came rushing in and straight towards the king with tears spilling from her eyes and a look of desperation upon her face. All this as Ijah’s now beaten up form was dragged into view of everyone in the shadowed light of the great fire pit. The woman nearly made it to the king, which would have resulted in her immediate death at the hands of the watchers, but Anouk lunged forward and grabbed her by the waist.

  “Show respect in the presence of the King, Contusa Melayra. Get down on your knees right now and wait for him to request your words…” Anouk growled into the delicate ears of her healing assistant as she wrestled to get out of her captain’s arms. Karayan stretched forward, grabbing the girl by the ankles and yanking her down to land heavily on her knees with a grunt before Anouk pressed her soldier’s face into the soft stone of the ground. She continued to heave and wheeze in her sorrow and the lords were all upset and frustrated as Yeruell ushered the king back to his throne and then permitted Floryas to bring Ijah over, ignoring the fact that the left side of Ijah’s face was thoroughly smashed in.

  Blood was pouring from his nose and he gave uncomfortable gurgling sounds as he wheezed, dragged in by the arms and grumbled at. Ijah was no longer a proud young man with a vicious scowl but a broken form with a stench of death about him. Damara and Karani shifted uncomfortably within the room, suddenly quite petrified by the scene and what was going to happen in their presence, but Ling shuffled between them and grasped their hands tenderly. She whispered to them to keep quiet and to lower themselves, so they did not have to see what was going to happen. Ling lowered herself too and Alard swiftly grabbed the snarling Sarag and the shocked Jarl by the scruff of their necks and encouraged them to bow with him.

  This was council business… not their business.

  “Ijah Ynvirius… you’ve been involved in a demonic possession and according to the test performed by the Mage Circle an hour ago you were proven to be infected with demonic suggestions and a heretic. You have been unwilling to cooperate with the police and your fate has been decided by the king. You will not escape justice… but you have the chance to speak to your lord now and inform us of your sins and your knowledge. If you do so then your eyes will be presented to the sun as per tradition, if not your corpse will be thrown into the Black Fire and your soul will never rejoin Nabuto.” Lord Floryas hissed evilly as his two policemen held the gasping form toward the nobles for a chance to repent. To hear that Sarag had probably dragged the figure straight to the Mage’s Circle when he’d heard about the demon in the marsh was frustrating. No one was supposed to go to the Mage’s Circle before being judged in a fair trial and no one was supposed to be sentenced already, which frustrated Anouk, though she was glad Ijah and his father had been the only members of their family to have survived. But before Ijah could try and speak, Contusa wriggled out from underneath Anouk’s grip and managed to pull herself up into a kneeling position and scream at them.

  “Please don’t kill him! Please… he’s done nothing wrong he never would hurt anyone it’s all a lie!” Contusa screeched and to Anouk’s great dismay it was Lutas who stepped forward and slapped her face to silence her. Though she gave a cry of upset she was startled to feel Anouk’s grasp lessen and permit her to scrabble across the ground to Ijah, whom she wrapped her arms about and wept against. “I love him… please don’t kill the person I love… he did nothing wrong it is all his father.”

  “Shut up you ridiculous female!” Ijah spat, blood leaping out of his mouth to coat the woman’s bald head. She remained locked around him despite his aggression and Ijah tried his best to knee her away despite the scowls of everyone watching them. Alard had always assumed that Contusa had such affections for the male but it was a forbidden kind of love, Contusa was not permitted to choose a husband for herself and yet somehow it was obvious Ijah did not want her to be hurt for his sake. “You stupid thing… I don’t love you; I never have you’ve only ever been a friend. I am guilty… but I have nothing to tell them all exce
pt to speak to my master… Lord Benaga.”

  The name was spoken with such frustration that it vexed the council and they automatically began to mutter to themselves. Although Contusa was not willing to pull away from him, the Karayan stepped over and picked her up though she screamed, holding her as she began kicking at him. Anouk stood herself up and stepped to Ijah’s side, her hands stretching to her belt, which she’d insisted upon wearing with these strange white robes. When she looked at him his eyes snapped on hers and there was a strange expression in them, a mix of hatred and desperation as if he were begging for her assistance. Anouk could not explain it fully, but she understood that there was pain here and just as Ijah declared his undying hatred for Anouk and who she was, Anouk pulled out the dagger portion of her weapon, stuffed it swiftly into Ijah’s stomach and dragged it upward. There were screams at the sound of his agony and gurgling, from women and men present as they watched the swift disembowelment of the figure followed by a sharp stab to his heart.

  No black ink like substance fell from his body but there was no telling where the usual sign of demon possession was sitting. It might have been that Ijah was not infected at all, but his assistance in killing Kaloon was enough to mark him a traitor and Anouk would have needed to kill him for it anyway. The eyes of the room were hollow with their depression at the scene and the spoiling of such a sacred place. The moment the body stopped bleeding the policemen and some guards lifted it up and marched out ready to take it for burning. Contusa lunged out of the Karayan’s arms to go after the body but Anouk’s old boss leapt over and swiftly tapped her in the shoulder with a sedative dart. The prison warden then ushered some of the Core members to assist in taking Contusa away as Yeruell gently questioned why Anouk had decided to kill.

  “It’s simple… I am the executioner and he was to be culled; but he was also a great soldier in my service and as such his death was due to be quick and respectful. His father did not receive such an honour nor did my other soldier whom he killed; perhaps it is penance for it.” Anouk sighed in frustration before turning towards Yeruell with an expression of depression. “It also spared Contusa the pain of watching a much more horrendous execution… although it is clear to me as it is to those who know her, that she will not stand living in this world anymore.”