by Logan Joss
‘You’d better be letting us out now! You’ve got no right keeping us down here—’
‘Get out,’ said the guard, in a bland tone.
‘I’m not going with you until you tell us where—’
‘Get out. Now,’ the guard said, rattling a chain he was holding.
‘You’re going to chain us up? You have no—’
Mèlli’s protests died in the scuffle that followed.
Peering around the door, Trevor saw the boy being dragged out of his cell in shackles. ‘Hey, let him go! Don’t hurt him,’ he said, but soon took a step back in fear as the guards turned and fixed their steely gaze upon him.
‘It’s okay, Trevor,’ Mèlli said, concerned for his friend’s safety. ‘We may as well go quietly. We have no choice now.’
Chained together by their ankles and with their wrists shackled, Trevor and Mèlli were marched along the row of cells. They were brought to a halt at the end, while the guards opened another three cells and removed the dejected-looking inmates, whom they shackled in a line in front of Trevor and Mèlli. The first man was smartly dressed and looked out of place in these dingy surroundings, but the other two, who were unkempt and rough-looking, appeared to be familiar visitors to the cells. As they marched on up some narrow stone steps to the floor above, these two men, who seemed to know each other, grumbled loudly.
‘Stupid war!’ the first said.
‘Yeah. Nothing to do with us anyway. If I wanted to fight I would’ve joined the king’s guard.’
‘They could’ve at least let us finish our drinks.’
‘Soon as I get a chance, I’m doing a runner!’
Trevor turned around to Mèlli with wide eyes. ‘War?’
Mèlli just shrugged.
At the top of the stairs was another floor of cells, where a line of prisoners, similarly shackled and chained, stood waiting. The guards linked the two lines together and led them off again along a damp, narrow stone corridor that sloped upwards steadily. Trevor looked along the line of prisoners in front of him, easily able to see over the heads of the small runians. Towards the front of the line, he thought he could see Burtlùs, shuffling along with his head down.
He turned to Mèlli. ‘Mèlli, look, it’s Burtlùs!’ he said. And then louder, ‘Hey, Burtlùs! Burtlùs!’
Burtlùs lifted his head in surprise and glanced around. Seeing the boys behind him, he managed a small smile.
‘Where’s Freya?’ Trevor asked.
Burtlùs seemed about to say something, but the guard at the back of the line prodded Trevor roughly on the shoulder and ordered, ‘No talking. Eyes front.’
Downcast, the group marched on in silence until they reached some heavy double doors. The guard at the front of the line banged on them twice with his fist and they swung open, flooding the corridor with the stark light of dawn. Beyond the doors, the prisoners emerged onto a large parade ground which, despite the hour, was teeming with people. Men and boys lined the square, their faces pale with fear, while soldiers of the king’s guard, armed with crossbows, performed drills on the ramparts. The prisoners were led to the edge of the square where they were unchained and made to stand in the ranks.
An runian man in military uniform painted with decorative insignia made his way to a raised platform at the front end and, with a bugle call, the parade ground was plunged into silence as he began to speak.
‘runians, we find ourselves in dark times, but we also find ourselves, as ever, united. The people of runia have always been free, but today that freedom comes at a price. Today, we must stand and defend our country against the armies that would enslave us…’
The rousing words washed over Trevor like they were part of a dream, unreal and distant. He pushed them aside and focused instead on thoughts of Freya, looking along the row to where Burtlùs was, standing straight with his eyes fixed on the speaker.
‘Burtlùs!’ Trevor called out of the corner of his mouth. When Burtlùs didn’t respond, he tried again but this time louder. ‘Burtlùs!’
Burtlùs turned towards Trevor, his eyes flitting to the guards at the end of the row, and nodded cautiously.
‘Burtlùs, where’s Freya?’ Trevor asked again.
‘I don’t know,’ Burtlùs said in a hushed voice. ‘They took her away last night. I haven’t seen her since.’
With a forlorn moan, the doors to the Great Hall opened and the king’s guards stood aside to allow the throng of women and children through. With tear-stained faces, they emerged into the vestibule, clutching bundles of blankets and holding their smallest children close. The guards organized them into straight lines and led them in single file into the courtyard outside. From here they would be taken to the Southern Forest, where a temporary camp was to be set up. King Somúlùs had told them this was their best hope to survive the war.
Freya hung back towards the rear of the group. She had been waiting for this opportunity all night. She had heard from the other women about the impending invasion and the fates of their husbands and sons, and couldn’t allow Burtlùs to be taken off to war without at least saying goodbye. But more than this, she needed to ensure Trevor and Mèlli’s safety. Since neither boy had a mother here to care for him, she felt the responsibility lay with her.
She joined the tail end of the procession of women and followed them out into the vestibule. Checking that the guards were not looking, she slipped through a doorway into a narrow service corridor and down some stone steps into the servants quarters. Here she hid the bundle of blankets and provisions she was carrying and rummaged through a chest of drawers until she found a maid’s uniform. She quickly changed into it, hiding her clothes beneath the bed, and slipped out into the corridor again, this time heading in the opposite direction. Upon reaching another set of stone steps, she ascended and came out into the open air of an enclosed courtyard. On the opposite side, she entered another door which led into the scullery. Inside was a commotion of activity as cooks and scullery maids prepared food to feed the new army. Huge pots of broth bubbled and steamed on the stoves, while kitchen staff peeled and chopped mountains of vegetables.
Freya grabbed a large metal jug from a shelf near the door and scurried over to the sinks to fill it with water. She carried the full jug purposefully out of the kitchens and headed into the main hallways of the palace, looking like just another servant. No sooner had she left the scullery, than a maid came hurrying towards her, carrying a platter filled with empty dishes.
‘Excuse me,’ Freya said. ‘I’ve been ordered to take this jug of water to Ormostrious, but I wasn’t told where I could find him.’
‘Try the Eastern Drawing Room,’ the maid said over her shoulder, indicating in the right direction with a nod of her head, before disappearing into the kitchens.
Freya walked as quickly as she could in the direction that the maid had indicated. After making several turnings through the maze of hallways, she saw a lone guard standing at the foot of a staircase.
‘Excuse me, sir, could you tell me how to get to the Eastern Drawing Room please?’ Freya asked in her meekest voice.
‘On the right at the end of the corridor,’ the guard said.
Freya approached the door nervously, gave a firm knock and waited to enter. It was opened moments later by a distinguished looking gentleman with kind eyes. He looked at her, puzzled. ‘We didn’t ask for any water.’
Freya said nothing and barged straight past him.
‘Excuse me, you can’t just—’ the man said.
His concentration broken by the ruckus, Ormostrious looked up from the scrolls he was studying and saw Freya standing before him. He studied her unusual appearance over the rim of his glasses. ‘Freya, where are Burtlùs and your friends?’ he asked with his usual calm demeanor.
‘Do you know this person, Ormostrious?’
‘Well of course,’ he said, beckoning Freya to be seated. ‘Don’t just stand there Frèuitùs, get her a drink.’
Frèuitùs bowed slightly and did
as he was asked, pouring Freya a nip from a decanter on the side to calm her nerves.
Freya sipped from the goblet and took a deep breath. ‘Oh, Ormostrious, they’ve been arrested!’ She began to sob as the emotion of the previous night overwhelmed her. ‘They’ve been arrested.’
Ormostrious patted her on the shoulder. ‘It’s alright. Take another sip and tell me everything.’
Freya explained to Ormostrious about how they were confronted by the guards in the town, about the scuffle that followed and how they were arrested. She explained how Burtlùs, Trevor and Mèlli were taken off by the guards and how she was taken to the Great Hall with all the other women and children. Ormostrious stroked his beard thoughtfully as he listened.
‘They say we’re going to war,’ Freya gasped.
‘Yes, yes, but first things first.’ Ormostrious placed a reassuring hand on Freya's shoulder and turned to the consul, who had been listening with interest.
‘Frèuitùs, where would they have been taken?’
‘At first, to the dungeons, but by now they will be out on the parade ground with all the other new recruits.’
‘Freya, wait here and help yourself to another drink. Frèuitùs, I’m going to need your help,’ Ormostrious led the way swiftly out of the room.
‘…With your unity, your strength, your resolve, by standing as one, I assure you we will emerge victorious!’
The speaker raised his fist and gave a shout of triumph. He was echoed enthusiastically by the guards on the ramparts but was met only by a muted response from the newly enlisted recruits. Seeing the mood of the crowd, he tried to get a cheer by raising his fist once more, but his efforts were interrupted by a guard tapping him on the shoulder and whispering in his ear. They both stepped down from the platform to be replaced by Frèuitùs. He addressed the crowd.
‘Would Burtlùs, Trevor and Mèlli please raise their hands?’
Trevor looked at Mèlli, but the boy just shrugged. He turned instead to Burtlùs, who met his gaze and slowly raised his hand. Trevor and Mèlli followed.
Hope
Finally. Finally, I have translated all the symbols.
I begin reciting the words immediately. I cannot stop myself. I feel a sense of achievement. But it is overshadowed by something else. I cannot quite put my finger on it, but it feels like loss. Emptiness.
Memories. Memories that belong to another. A voice that calls a familiar name.
No, not memories. A dream.
So why the feelings?
I push them aside. No time for dwelling on the past, not now.
At first, the words are silent, my mouth moves and I hear them in my mind, like a rhyme.
I am excited. I fight the emotions back.
Composure. Composure.
After going over the words a dozen times, I begin to say the first one out loud. My excitement, the emotion gets the better of me. I stutter. I curse myself.
Composure.
Slowly the words become louder as my confidence grows. Again and again, the words flow from my lips. I can feel the power in them and the hope they bring. Time is running out for this world.
My own salvation, however, is now assured.
I keep the words in my mind as I unroll the delicate parchment. It shows the familiar outlines of these wondrous objects over which I now have full power. Along with the words I keep in my mind, they will protect me, they will sustain me when I finally leave this place.
I am so close now.
I move my hand down to the last object. I run a finger around its outline before laying a palm on top of the handle. I imagine holding it. I close my eyes. I see it.
A smile?
I feel the unfamiliar expression crumple my face. It has been so long since...
I wonder if it has happened before?
But it is quiet here. No one to confirm my suspicion.
I close my eyes again. I see myself holding it. I see the world saved.
I look around this room I have lived in for…I cannot recall how long exactly. But I know the value of my sacrifice, how all of this will be worth the pain, the suffering, the risk.
Hope now flows through me, back into the world like a river.
It will not be long now.
17
Volunteered
AS TREVOR FOLLOWED Frèuitùs off the parade ground and into the magnificent palace of rus, his body buzzed with a bizarre mixture of nervousness, excitement and relief. The ornate interior through which he, Mèlli and Burtlùs now walked was a beautiful but alarming contrast to the dingy cell they had been in the previous night. Now that he was no longer a prisoner or a new recruit to the army, Trevor managed to relax a little and was immediately overwhelmed by a wave of sheer exhaustion.
As they approached the king’s parlor, Freya came running along the corridor to greet them and threw her arms around her husband.
‘Oh, Burtlùs, I’m so glad you’re okay,’ she gushed, before turning to the boys and giving them both a little squeeze. ‘I was so worried about you all.’
Burtlùs’ face lit up with joy upon seeing his wife again. ‘Oh my dear, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you.’
Frèuitùs showed them all into the parlor, where Ormostrious was waiting for them, and advised them that the king would be there to see them shortly. The elaborately decorated room was, thankfully, home to an assortment of comfortable chairs and, with an air of relief, Trevor made his way to the back of the room and allowed his weary body to drop into one of them. He listened as Ormostrious explained about the war and what was happening around them in the city. Every now and then, Frèuitùs would interject a comment on King Somúlùs’ behalf.
When they had finished, the room was silent for a moment.
‘So this Nirikö is really coming here, to rus?’ Burtlùs said, pulling his wife closer.
‘Yes and he could arrive at any moment,’ said Frèuitùs. ‘You understand now why we have had to take such extreme measures?’ He took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow.
‘So what you’re saying is Nirikö has torn his way through the whole of Mèssorós and not one person in runia even noticed?’ Mèlli snorted with derision.
‘Well, it’s not quite as simple as that.’ Frèuitùs seemed flustered. ‘You don’t know all the facts yet.’
‘What my good friend here is trying to say,’ Ormostrious interjected, ‘is that measures were taken to ensure that King Somúlùs was somewhat preoccupied.’
‘Preoccupied? How?’ said Freya.
‘Ah, I’m afraid Princess Viöla is very sick—’
‘He was betrayed,’ Frèuitùs spat. ‘We’ve all been betrayed.’
‘Betrayed?’ said Burtlùs. ‘Who by?’
‘Edùliph.’ Frèuitùs paced the room, a forlorn look on his face.
‘Edùliph? But he’s been the royal physician for…’ Freya let her words trail off as she sank back into her chair.
Frèuitùs and Ormostrious went on to explain everything that had happened with Viöla’s curse, Edùliph’s deceit and his plan to divert the king’s attention.
‘My apologies, my friends,’ King Somúlùs said as he burst into the parlor. ‘I am so sorry for the misunderstanding.’
He pulled the bell cord to summon a maid, who appeared almost instantly, and requested refreshments for his guests. He embraced Freya and then shook Burtlùs by the hand, before deciding to embrace him as well.
‘It’s so good to see you Burtlùs, my dear old friend,’ he said. ‘I just wish it could be under happier circumstances.’
The maid returned with láven and a platter of fruit and bread, which Frèuitùs helped to distribute among the guests.
‘And who are your companions?’ the king asked after they had all had a bite to eat and a restoring cup of láven.
Freya pointed in turn to the boys. ‘This is Mèlli and this is Trevor.’
‘These are the ones I was telling you about,’ Ormostrious said.
‘These two
?’ Somúlùs was surprised by the children before him. ‘Are you sure? When you explained your plan to me I wasn’t expecting to put my daughter’s life in the hands of mere boys.’ He looked up at Ormostrious, wide-eyed.
‘Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?’ Mèlli said, standing up from his chair with his hands on his hips. ‘Whatever he said we can do, we can do it.’ He paused. ‘What is it we’re supposed to be doing anyway?’
He looked at Trevor, who had jumped up from his chair. ‘What do you mean, put your daughter’s life in our hands?’
‘You are to go to Borreós to—’ King Somúlùs started to explain but was interrupted by Ormostrious.
‘As I told you yesterday, I have complete faith in these two, despite their appearance.’
‘Borreós? What? But I need to get home? I can’t—’ Trevor protested.
Ormostrious raised a hand to calm the boy. ‘You are to go to Borreós, the most northerly continent, to claim a tear from a dragon that is imprisoned beneath the mountains there, to save the life of the king’s daughter.’
Trevor’s eyes widened. ‘But, but…’
Ormostrious silenced Trevor with a look, ‘I know I said I would help you, and my intentions have not changed. But there are more urgent matters to attend to first. As I mentioned yesterday, Somúlùs, there is something you can do to help Trevor as well.’
‘Ah yes, that old thing. I haven’t seen that for years.’ Somúlùs waved a hand dismissively. ‘I’ll have Frèuitùs locate it for you.’
Mèlli nudged Trevor and whispered in his ear. ‘Is he talking about the glÿmpse?’
‘I hope so,’ he whispered back.
Just then, there was a knock at the door and it swung open as a group of officers of the king’s guard entered.
‘We’ve come to give you a strategic update, sire,’ one of the captains said.
King Somúlùs nodded. ‘Very good.’
‘Ah, Ormostrious, I’m glad you’re here,’ the captain continued. ‘I was wondering if you could give us a progress report on the development of these weapons of yours.’