Traitor to the King

by Clare SM Keating

  “Really? Oh, thank you Saravona… it really eases my mind.” Damara sighed before grasping the creature in her arms in a tight hug and then grasping Saravona in a hug. They sighed gently at the softness of the embrace but the Karayan merely grit his teeth in frustration. He could not imagine what was going on with Anouk right now, only that she had been put in a place that echoed with the screams of madness with walls painted red like blood and completely blackened so that she could only feel terror. She was probably not afraid though, from what he had learnt Anouk was never afraid for herself or his heart would not have been beating as steadily and calmly as it was.

  Saravona strolled up the long flight of stairs of the Grand Tower towards the secret room where the king himself would be waiting with Molwesa for a report. Whenever Molwesa was in this highest room with the king it was strictly forbidden for anyone outside of the Sacred Women to enter and even so, only Saravona was permitted. She was feeling nervous as her soft silvery fingers stroked the coiling flight of the narrow stairwell in complete darkness to keep herself pressed to the wall. If she wobbled just slightly to the right then Saravona would fall to her death in a straight shot, making it the ultimate defence if any hordes came charging up here to attack the king.

  The Grand Tower was not the largest, sacred tower of the king’s palace with the glass roof however, so most did not even consider it the kind of place the king would be living. The tower stood beside the greater one and poked high out through the underground city to sit just above the line of the wall of the second dam. If one where to step to the lonely looking door of the tower they would meet one lonely guard who would ask for a password; get the password wrong and you would be killed by protective spells linked to the stone magic. Even if you breeched him you would find yourself looking up to an endless flight of stairs with no elevator to speed your journey. It was Saravona’s most exhausting trip and she knew the secret route to get up quickly with rope to the surface layer, but then it was walking from that point on!

  All of this to protect the bed chamber of the king and right now to reduce the likelihood of Saravona stepping in at a moment of coitus between the two great figures and seeing…

  “Your majesty… it is Saravona… are you decent?” Saravona always felt stupid to ask the question of King Otzell, but when she heard the reassuring tones of Molwesa through the door she breathed a sigh of relief and then gently opened the lonely black coloured stone that formed the hidden doorway. The moment the stone was pulled towards her the stones about it unpacked and un-stacked themselves to form an extension of the wall around her body and to allow her into the glittering golden and sunshine filled room of the king. The moment she saw the sun roof was open, Saravona unlatched her veil of black beads from the top of her hood to prevent damage to her skin as she stepped inside to see the figure of the king, bathing in sunlight on a massive red and brown carpet within the centre of the room.

  “Ah… Saravona… are you prepared for your task tomorrow?” It was an odd place to see Otzell but Saravona had learnt that when a stone was returned to the kingdom, the king went through a period of great immunity and strength to the sunlight and to the normal wear and tear of a body his age. Indeed, it had been thanks to the stone coming back that he had decided to call Molwesa in to his chamber after several years ignoring her… it had made the head healer insanely happy. Saravona could see her lounging on the great black bed of the king that was shadowed by soft grey veils and she appeared pleased enough. But Saravona bowed her head to her king and tried not to think more about the old male sitting in cross-legged contemplation in fine blue and gold silks beneath sunlight.

  “Of course, My Lord… it is always my greatest honour to assist your people at times of need… aside from the great honour of being able to speak to you without Lord Yeruell present or the Watchers.” It was indeed a rare privilege that only the individual lords or Molwesa could expect to have. But Saravona’s joy seemed to slip into a grimace and she lowered her head gently in concern before breathing a soft sigh. “My lord… the Karayan told me a story today about his relationship to the Benaga Household. He informed me that when Anouk was a child she was called to him when he was dying and exchanged a piece of her heart for a piece of his wounded one. He is bound to her… so your expectations of Anouk are indeed well founded.”

  “The dragon bones never lie… they are sacred items that only my kind can read and interpret. If she were born in the south, then Anouk Benaga would have been sent to the order of the Poison Tasters of Hathorna. She is a very suitable choice for the task ahead, don’t you agree?” Otzell turned towards Molwesa to give a chuckle of amusement but she did not make a sound or gesture in return. Instead it encouraged Saravona’s eyes to widen in surprise as well as some shred of delight; to think that they had such an important being within the bloodline of the king’s family meant that somewhere in that same line there had been dragon blood. Saravona could only imagine what truth there might be in that idea and in old legends regarding it from their past. But her thoughts were noted by the king’s great shining eyes and he gave a soft chuckle. “I don’t know if that’s the case Saravona… but you have certainly resolved a great fear for the future.”

  “I have?” She questioned gently, and the king slowly nodded his head.

  “Yes… if the time comes and the stones are not returned, I may place a piece of my own body inside Anouk’s to be healed enough to keep this place safe. Destiny marked her as the one most suitable and I had been looking for the vessel for a very long time, since the stones were taken in fact.” The King sighed before he settled back into a slow, languid motion of pulling himself up to go back to the bed. Saravona merely nodded her head gently in fascination, so there was no dragon in the Benaga line but there was prophecy and she smiled gently. In her mind it was right and the most satisfactory way to explain how the Karayan and Anouk could have survived such a thing together, especially as she understood the extreme power within the Karayan’s being. But then the king swatted his hand towards her and Saravona bowed lower before turning on her heel and slowly pacing towards the door.

  The moment she left Molwesa pulled herself off the bed with a growl of irritation and stomped over to the king’s side. She sat herself down firmly at the feet of the king as he stood straight and pulled his great dark robes about him. He seemed to begin to shield himself from the sunlight and Molwesa simply glared at the floor, remaining silent because she knew he would not allow her to speak out of turn right now. Otzell knew the reason his dear healer was so upset and gently he stretched his hand down to stroke delicately at the side of her face and Molwesa heaved a sigh of sorrow.

  “You know what I feel about this matter… I do not mind if you wish to take either of my nieces as brides or use them purely to produce offspring I cannot give you…” Molwesa spoke bitterly through her gritted teeth, snarling as she thought of the idea of either of those girls being touched by her partner. However, with a soft sigh Molwesa shook her head gently and then stroked her face softly before stroking the edge of his old hands. “But I fear that you would ignore me if you did.”

  “How? You know the truth and reasoning behind everything that we have managed to achieve… you alone are my sole confidant in this kingdom now that all my old friends have long passed. You alone know everything…” Otzell stated very gently and calmly as he stroked her face again. But he looked out towards the sunlight and his body gave a shudder of pain and fear of what was to happen. Then gently he shook his head and patted her shoulder with a chuckle. “It is time to prepare for the evacuation, we must go say farewell to the people and hope that the old tunnels are still strong with the ancient powers. I should also like you to visit Anouk… to see that she is still as strong as she should be; now we know her secrets… you can also tell Saravona that her efforts with the Karayan should continue steadily. He will give in eventually, all men do.”

  “Of course, but as for my niece Anouk… what do you wish me to do with her if her
mind has slipped in that hell hole?” Molwesa questioned nervously, feeling a sudden creeping sensation of disgust fall upon her mind as she considered going to such a place. Normally the Head Healer would never have to set foot within the prison, that was the job of the lesser members of her organisation and yet she could not ignore the orders of the king or refuse him, even if the thought scared her greatly.

  “As long as the body remains working… her mind is welcome to crumble into the endless sleep.”

  In the stories of her youth, Anouk had been told of a great deep place within the Orcreich known as Hell; it was a place the demons stored the souls and bodies of their victims for constant torture. It was said there was a constant stench of piss and blood, the walls were red with fire and entrails and the air thick with screams of agony and the wails of self-pity for those foolish enough to have agreed to their captivity within the terrible kingdom. She had been told that though it sounded and felt crowded and claustrophobic, the fear and agony of the place was increased by the fact that victims never saw another soul but heard them… they were trapped in a constant state of anxiety and questioning. But though at times there seemed a clear route to the surface, any attempt to escape would make the walls become smoother and higher… and that was where Anouk seemed to be.

  But at least in Hell she would not have to suffer the humiliation of the myriad of visiting nobles that would come to discuss matters with her regarding her will and her fortunes. People would come to torment her during the usual hours in the day given up for such things, but most of them were the members of the Police, Core and Army that still hated her for being female. If anything, that was the only point they ever made about her, none of them were willing or indeed foolish enough to call her a traitor… in fact they even seemed to believe that she was innocent and would be released soon enough. The taunting was just a way for them to cope when they felt as if their lives were about to be stolen away by the army that would stroll after the spores. She could not begrudge them the relief, she only wished that the walls of her lonely, isolated cell were not painted the same red of her now gone hair and that she could be deaf to the howls of the lunatics that she shared a row with.

  Every night the constant howling and moaning, the self-pity and the weeping of those that had no real understanding of the here and now echoed through the hollow pathway. Anouk remained lying motionless in silence upon her bunk, staring up at the blood-coloured wall and trying not to slip into the same degenerative howling. She repeated to herself mentally that this was all just some test by Nabuto and that she would be fine in the end. Her enemies were going to bubble up now that she was out of sight and they would be dealt with; this is what the king had wanted to happen and she accepted it. But each time she thought it over she felt the sorrow and upset as she stretched out to rub her sore scalp where a paste had been lathered to clean the skin of bacteria and lice from the prison but also prevented the hair from growing back. The lack of hair made tears dribble down her face as she felt for non-existence strands and the memory they had held of grasping her grandfather’s similar coloured hair for comfort as a tiny child.

  But then she would bite back her sorrow and scowl at the ceiling before letting her face split into a vicious grin before she gave a snort of amusement. It might be that she did not survive because of the foolishness of this kingdom, but she knew that Damara would be safe. Her sister would be fine, Karayan would find her a great husband and protect whatever child they produced. As far as Anouk was concerned the Karayan was now Damara’s guardian and Alard would be too… the line would be secure even if it was not from Anouk’s own womb. But then that thought would sink in and bother her, wrap its way about her mind and try to ask her what she remembered of the blue-haired boy with a tail and horns!

  She had not recalled the horns before… as she blinked hard and rubbed at her forehead, she tried to squash down memories that were disjointed, and she wanted to howl. The pain of this betrayal on behalf of her companions was eating its way into her body, warning her that everything she had believed in was greatly distorted. Her mind was racing as she began to question what indeed was real and what she had been told growing up or what lies she’d been force-fed. But Anouk did not want to give in to that kind of thinking when she was in here, just in case her mind might break apart and turn her into another raving lunatic. However, the memory of that child seemed to soothe her thoughts as she pondered over where the baby was and began to close herself off to the worry of the prison, thinking hard and searching with her mind for anything to say if the child was alive.

  If the boy were alive then he would be just a little older then Damara… he would probably look a lot like their father, only with the sharp features of Anouk’s face and possibly her stubborn temperament too. Knowing that he could still be out there in the wilds gave Anouk something to focus on for when this whole chaotic matter was over. She had been disgraced so far, she’d been put in prison, she was thought to have spawned a child with a devil so why not bring it back and give it the rightful position of Lord Benaga? Why not teach it to be loyal to the king as she was and prove, despite what it was, Benaga blood was thicker than any venom of the Orcreich!

  Her mind jolted in those thoughts one evening, or at least she assumed it to be the evening, there was different food being passed around and for once she was permitted to have contact with a member of the council. It had been a strange sort of point to be awoken from as she’d tried to remember what it had felt like to be pregnant and yet nothing had come to her. Instead it had startled her to see the flapping robes of a familiar figure stroll over and then talk to the guards. This figure dared to pass money off to the guards to encourage them to leave them alone with Anouk for a while and straightaway she sat up to lock her vicious green eyes onto the bold figure she believed to have been the traitor all along.

  “Oh, did I disturb you, old friend? Nabuto knows I did not mean to cause you concern… how are you holding up in here?” Lutas stated with a vivid grin as he sat down on the cold stone floor of the prison just in front of her cell. He looked down the window of iron grating towards the figure lounging on her bed of straw nearby and staring up at the red coloured roof. His expression was as smug and patronising as ever, but it made Anouk curiously frustrated as well; he would have to be an idiot if he was going to try and get rid of her in here or confess anything. In fact, Anouk was quite sure he’d come here to gloat and as she rolled onto her front to stare up at him, Lutas’ eyes fell upon her sore bald scalp and he grimaced. “It’s the saddest thing to see… the beautiful blood-red hair lost in the treachery of a murderer and his devoted father.”

  Anouk’s eyes narrowed, she was not sure what he was getting at, but she had a suddenly painful and sickening feeling over it. Her mind began to dart with questions, but she kept them all away from the surface so that he might not have the satisfaction of piquing her interest, let alone giving her some kind of titbit. Instead Anouk kept staring upward, her eyes not strolling back to him to find out what was going on and therefore not attracting his interest. But Lutas knew her too well and that she was indeed listening in to him and his face split into a malevolent grin as he gave a soft chuckle and then gently swept his hand through his beautiful hair. He dropped his hand down, looking towards his fingers before giving a soft sigh and gently shaking his head.

  “Hard to believe that someone as handsome as I have never married and produced children myself… but you already know the reason for it, don’t you Anouk? It’s nice to know that you were kind enough not to play on all the secrets you have on every lord to get them on your side. I wish I had some secrets on you though, yours seem to guard themselves… but did you want to know some of the secrets I have?” Lutas chuckled gently as he settled himself down onto the floor and peered down the metal towards her form. He was frustrated that she was ignoring him, but he knew she would listen at the very least and maybe even let something slip or hint towards something. After-all, when he mentioned about his
marriage and children her eyes had shifted harshly towards him before looking towards the roof again. “So, what is it you’d like to know? I’ve got time on my hands to talk so I thought that firstly I’d tell you the evacuations went well and oh yes, it looks like Saravona will eventually get impregnated by the Karayan.”

  The words were untrue, at least a little and yet there was a sudden growling sound from deep within her throat and Lutas’ face exploded into a more violent grin than ever. He looked at the fire burning in her eyes and produced a soft little chortle of fascination before gently itching at his chin in thought. When Anouk realised that her thoughts had been disturbed and her emotions flared, the figure pulled herself up from the ground and slowly scrabbled onto the stone slope up to the iron grate. She hissed gently at the sensation of moving her broken legs so soon but when Lutas noticed the determination he sighed and shook his head.

  “Careful Anouk… if you’re not you’ll make your legs even worse and I don’t want to ruin our chance of a decent conversation by calling in the healers. We need you to heal fast Anouk; you have to be ready to kill something pretty devastating.” Lutas chuckled but there was a slightly compassionate and truthful glint in his eyes that quite startled and frustrated her. She could read the threat too; she knew something bad was on its way but why then tell her this? Did he expect or perhaps wish her to kill him? When he realised that she was still under the impression that he was the culprit, the figure rolled his eyes and produced a sigh. “Anouk… I’m not the traitor; at least I’m not someone who would be stupid enough to mess with demons. Not when you know the curse upon me has kept me from stepping beyond the power of the stones and…”