The Kingdom

by Bryan M. Litfin

  Teo’s rejoinder infuriated the Iron Shield. He bared his teeth and shrieked as he started forward. The two men leaped into battle again, their combat even more fierce than before. Teo grunted and strained as he fought his opponent, but the dark warrior’s ferocity began to force him back. Teo could feel his own attack growing weaker.

  “Not . . . long . . . now!” the Iron Shield said through gritted teeth. He pressed his advantage all the harder.

  “Arrgh!” Teo’s battle-ax was knocked from his grasp by a massive blow from the mace. His left arm went numb. Now that he couldn’t parry or counterattack, he had to give ground to his foe. His field of vision narrowed. The rest of the warriors on the hillock disappeared from his awareness; all other sounds were blotted out. Teo focused his full attention on the cat-eyed adversary before him.

  The Iron Shield charged fast, raising his mace above his head. He stepped onto a boulder that propelled him high in the air, almost as if he were flying. His mace seemed poised to crash down from heaven itself. Yet bold courage seized Teo as his enemy hurtled toward him. Instead of pulling back, he gripped the sword of Armand in two hands and thrust it up at the oncoming maelstrom of death.

  The Iron Shield did not expect it. Pirouetting in midair to avoid the thrust, he twisted in a full revolution. As Teo’s blade sliced through empty air, the dark warrior’s forearm came whipping out of his spin. His fist crashed into Teo with an impact like a blacksmith’s hammer. Teo hit the ground hard, his blade flying from his grasp. His head swam, and the world tilted on end. Though the Iron Shield’s mace was knocked from his hand by the tremendous collision, he managed to land on his feet with his dagger still in his grip. Helpless, Teo lay flat on his back, staring up at his enemy.

  The warrior drew back his knife. “Now die!” he snarled.

  His hand started forward—and then he was gone.

  What?

  Teo scrambled up.

  The Iron Shield staggered backward across the uneven ground, clawing at his throat. A rope was there. A white-clad figure tugged on it.

  Ana!

  She had looped the rope from the crane around the Iron Shield’s neck, crisscrossing it like one of the Exterminati’s own garrotes. Now she yanked on the rope in her fierce determination to bring the giant down.

  But the Iron Shield was too strong. With a savage pivot he knocked Ana sprawling. Throwing aside the rope, he towered over her with his dagger. She raised her arm in defense.

  Teo exploded into a run. He had no weapon but his two hands. At full speed he crashed into the Iron Shield, shoving him as hard as he could. The violent impact lifted the man off his feet. He tumbled across the hillock to the rim of a dark crevasse, then plunged over its edge and disappeared into the steaming earth.

  Teo ran to the crack. Though it wasn’t lava-filled, the fissure was narrow and steep. If there was a way out of it, the exit wouldn’t be anywhere nearby. And no man could climb back up those serrated walls.

  Ana stumbled to Teo’s side, panting hard. She touched his shoulder. “Teo, look!” He turned.

  A party of Clan soldiers had arrived, equipped with crossbows and short swords. Their leader was a tall, swarthy warrior with a square chin. Beside him was the middle-aged man who seemed to be in charge.

  “Lay down your arms!” the swarthy man shouted. The crossbowmen fanned out and leveled their weapons. To resist would be suicide. Marco’s pirates complied with the order, and the knights begrudgingly followed. Teo’s own weapons were already on the ground.

  The Clan leader stormed over to one of the shamans. “Where is your master?” he demanded. The shaman looked around and shrugged.

  “Tancred, do you see him anywhere?”

  “He’s gone, brother.”

  “This is my island,” the boss spat, “and we do things my way! I won’t have anyone trying to take over!” He stared at the shamans, whose black attire and secretive hoods gave them a mysterious aura. “I ought to have you all hanged,” he muttered, though his expression appeared conflicted. He pursed his lips in a frown. “But who knows what that would unleash? Just get out of my sight!”

  In a matter of seconds the shamans melted away.

  “Tancred, are all the women here?”

  The strongman curled two fingers to some of his troops, who held several of the Christiani girls in a tight grip. The men pushed the girls toward the rest of the captives. “A few tried to slip away,” Tancred said, “but we rounded ’em all up.”

  The boss nodded. “Good. Mulciber shall receive his full due.” He pointed to Teo and Ana. “Now bring those two to me.”

  Though Teo tried to resist, four soldiers converged on him with drawn swords and escorted him to the boss. Ana was brought as well. Meanwhile the other Clansmen collected the dropped weapons and put them all in an empty water barrel. Teo watched his own sword and ax get wedged in with the rest.

  “So you’re the man Antonio hates so much,” the Clan Boss said.

  “That’s not even his real name.”

  “I assumed as much, but no matter. He’s gone now, and you belong to me.”

  “What do you want with us?” Teo asked defiantly.

  The Clan Boss leaned on his staff. He seemed to be sweating more than everyone else, if such were possible. “Certainly not the same thing as Antonio,” he said. “He wanted to kill you, so he left a trail for you to follow. Lots of hints and secret messages. He knew you’d come. And sure enough you did—all for this pretty little thing.” The boss gripped Ana’s chin in his hand and examined her face before releasing her abruptly. It angered Teo, but he held himself still.

  “Why are you in league with those shamans?” Ana asked.

  “Ha! I have no choice in the matter, little one. That decision was made long ago in the presence of gods more powerful than you could ever imagine.” The Clan Boss waved his hands. “But enough of this! There are some things I wish to know from you before we proceed with the wedding.”

  When the Clan Boss snapped his fingers, Tancred and his men sprang into action. Some of them forced a Sessalayan slave girl to stand with the Christiani sisters. Other soldiers held Teo’s arms behind his back.

  “Teo?” Ana whispered. “What’s happening?” Her eyes were wide as she watched him be led away.

  He knew Ana was seeking encouragement from him, so he gave her a confident nod, though inside he was afraid. His enemies owned every advantage, and he didn’t see any way out. He glanced toward his men under guard. Marco stood at the front of them, and Teo met his gaze. Though no words were exchanged, their eyes communicated the message: Be ready.

  The Clansmen lashed Teo’s wrists to the base of the crane. It was a strange thing to do, but at least it meant they didn’t plan to swing him over the lava. Even the heat at the lip of the ravine was overpowering.

  A hush fell on the hillock. Every eye held on the Clan Boss. He began to walk to the place where the lava parted to give access to the mound. As he reached the steaming gray sludge, he turned and looked at the crane. Smiling, he dipped the end of his staff into the molten rock, revealing its red-hot heart.

  “No!” Ana screamed, thrashing in her captor’s grip. The man cuffed her. She fell silent, though her face bore a look of sheer horror.

  Teo clenched his jaw. Now he understood.

  The Clan Boss’s staff blazed into a bright flame where it touched the lava. He lifted out a clump of the glowing orange goo, which bubbled and dribbled from the end of his staff. As he returned to the crane, little blobs fell to the ground, but most of the lava congealed into a black mass on the staff’s tip.

  Teo peered over his shoulder as the Clan Boss approached. His heart raced wildly, and his breath came in gulping pants. He steeled himself for what was coming.

  “Now then,” the Clan Boss said, “we have some vital matters to discuss.”

  “Perhaps there is an arrangement we could negotiate,” Teo said.

  “This is not a negotiation. I will ask the questions. You will give the an
swers.”

  “If I can,” Teo said. His knees felt weak. Deu, help me endure!

  “Teofil of Chiveis,” the Clan Boss shouted, “what are the ingredients of the explosive powder?”

  The powder! I can’t put Astrebril’s fire in the hands of the Clan! They’ll murder countless people with it!

  Teo shook his head; and so the pain began.

  For the briefest moment it felt like nothing more than being touched with a piece of ice. Then, like a volcanic eruption, agony exploded in the center of Teo’s back. The torment was beyond his worst imagination. It was the sort of burning pain from which one normally recoils with a cry of distress—except in this case the contact remained, so the pain multiplied with every passing second. Teo threw back his head and howled as the Clan Boss ground the superhot mass of fiery stone into his back. It burned through his jerkin and shirt to sear his flesh. Teo had never felt anything so terrible.

  At last the Clan Boss retracted his staff. Teo struggled to remain upright as the pain pulsed from the fresh burn. He inhaled and exhaled in quick bursts, trying to cope with his suffering.

  “It seems you are somewhat resolute,” the Clan Boss said. “Your courage is admirable. Yet I doubt it is unbreakable.” He turned to his henchmen. “Take him down.”

  Teo’s wrists were untied, and he was forced to lay prone on the ground. A soldier put the tip of a sword against the back of his neck. By turning his head just a little, Teo could see the Clan Boss return to the lava with his staff.

  No! Not again!

  He grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut. Please, Deu! Not again!

  “Hold still,” the soldier said, pressing the point of his blade firmly against Teo’s neck.

  He heard a commotion as he waited, then footsteps approached. The Clan Boss uttered an evil laugh. Teo gritted his teeth.

  “I have thought of a way to increase your pain, Teofil,” said the boss.

  There was a long pause—then something happened that Teo would never forget.

  Ana’s agonized scream shattered the unholy stillness on Fire Mountain.

  It hurt so much.

  Ana stood with her hands tied to the crane, weeping at the pain in her back. It burrowed into every fiber of her body and wouldn’t relent. “Ahhh,” she moaned, unable to remain silent in the face of such affliction.

  “Do it again,” Tancred said. “Make her hurt.”

  Ana wriggled in her bonds. “Teo, help me! Don’t let them!”

  But the boss came near with his stick. “Maybe a little longer this time?” he suggested.

  “Deu!” Ana screamed at the top of her lungs. “Stop them!”

  And he did.

  The earth heaved underfoot, throwing everyone off balance. Ana would have tumbled to the ground except for her bonds. High above, a thunderous boom shattered the sky. The vent that had been spewing lava all night now sent up a gigantic plume that reached for the stars. Chunks of molten rock rooster-tailed from the summit, swathing the mountain’s head in a corona of flame. The tremors intensified as ash and pebbles rained down on the terrified spectators. Everyone cowered beneath the assault. Some of the soldiers fled. The mighty conflagration no longer inspired awe; it foretold judgment.

  Ana saw Teo leap to his feet. He was at his best in moments like this, as if he were carrying out a prearranged plan instead of improvising on the run. He dashed to the barrel that held the collected armaments and kicked it over. Before any of the Clansmen could react, Teo had pitched weapons to a dozen of his men. Others snatched them from the quaking ground.

  But the soldiers didn’t hesitate forever. Tancred was a warrior who knew how to fight. “Engage!” he shouted. “Cut off their escape!” The clash of arms rang out across the mountainside.

  The thongs on Ana’s wrists weren’t well tied, so she pulled them loose with her teeth. Though the throbbing pain in her back was relentless, her urge to survive was even stronger. Ana crouched down next to the crane and glanced around. On the far side of the mound, Vanita was leading the women toward the opening in the lava’s flow. Meanwhile, Marco had gotten some of his men with their shortbows behind a jumble of rocks. Ana could see right away that if the women could get through the narrow opening, the archers could hold the gap and prevent any enemies from following.

  Tancred, his face livid, saw it too. “Crossbows! Crossbows! The brides must not escape! Dead or alive, men! Take them down!”

  “Teo!” Ana screamed. His head swung around, and she pointed desperately at Tancred’s soldiers as they cranked their weapons. “Stop them!”

  Teo reacted swiftly. He ran to a barrel of drinking water and slammed the lid on it, pounding it down with his fist. Then he tipped the barrel on its side and shoved it with his foot. It careened down the slope toward the bowmen, whose focus on their quarry prevented them from seeing the approaching danger. The barrel smashed into them from the side, toppling them like dominos. After hitting a bump, the barrel caught air as it went over a drop-off. It landed in the lava and exploded in a hissing cloud of steam. The vapor billowed across the women’s escape route, blocking them from view. A few crossbow bolts chased them through the mist, but the shots were random.

  With the women gone, the knights who were fighting hand to hand with the Clansmen began to retreat. Ana realized she needed to move too or she’d be left behind. Though every motion was like a knife stab in the back, she set her jaw and started to go. Then a cruel hand wrenched her arm.

  “Where do you think you’re headed?” said a menacing voice.

  The Clan Boss began to shove Ana toward the lip of the ravine. Though he was middle-aged and overweight, his sheer bulk gave him the advantage. Ana struggled but was inexorably pushed back. The heat from the river of lava grasped at her like voracious hands trying to pull her down. She wrestled with her opponent but couldn’t prevent him from pushing her to the brink of death. One more step backward would send her plunging into the deadly orange flow.

  “Tell me the formula,” the Clan Boss demanded, “or I’ll throw you in!”

  “Let go of me!”

  The boss gripped Ana’s dress in his fist and shook her hard. A chunk of rock broke away beneath her foot. She arched backward, her hair dangling over the flaming abyss. The shimmering air distorted her enemy’s sweat-drenched face. His lip curled up, and his teeth were bared.

  “Tell . . . me . . . that . . . formula!” he snarled.

  “I’ll never tell you anything! Never!”

  “Then you belong to Mulciber!” the Clan Boss screamed.

  Suddenly the man’s head tumbled from his shoulders in a fine red mist. He released his savage grip. His decapitated body collapsed to the ground, and Teo stepped into his place with the sword of Armand in his hand. He caught Ana around the waist and drew her close. His gaze met hers.

  “You belong to Deu,” he declared.

  Grabbing Ana’s hand, he turned toward the narrow exit from the mound. Battle was raging there as the knights retreated into the shadows. Several of the Clansmen who weren’t part of that fight turned and saw Teo and Ana standing by the crane. They began to advance with their swords drawn.

  Teo snatched the rope that dangled from the end of the boom. “Hold this,” he said, then bent to the crane’s base and heaved it around. The effort was intense, and his face showed it. Ana couldn’t look at the raw red wound in the center of his back.

  When the boom was out over the lava, Teo stood up and took the end of the rope from her. He cupped her cheek in his hand. “Can you trust me one more time?”

  Ana flung her arms around Teo in the tightest embrace she could manage. “I trust you completely,” she said. Then she was lifted from the ground.

  The ovenlike heat engulfed her again. Ana screamed as she swung over the inferno, clinging to Teo with her arms and legs. Red-hot death flowed beneath her, but only for a moment, and then it was gone. Teo let go of the rope and landed on the far side of the ravine. He released Ana from his grasp and drew his battle-ax in the
same motion.

  The man who had been given the job of pulling the cable on the crane charged at Teo with a thick quarterstaff, but before he could close the distance Teo sent him reeling. The Chiveisian battle-ax had a secret weapon in its haft. Made by the clever metalsmith Shaphan, the ax could dislodge steel balls into a cup at its tip by pressing a button. When the ax was flicked with a strong whip of the arm, it would send the balls flying. Teo’s practiced hand put the missile on the point of the Clansman’s chin. The man’s head whipped back, and he dropped to the ground, moaning and clutching his jaw.

  Ana felt something whiz past her. She glanced up to the far side of the ravine, which was slightly higher than her current position. Men were standing by the crane with their crossbows aimed at the fugitives. Bolts ricocheted from the volcanic rock at Ana’s feet.

  “Teo!” she shouted. “Up there!”

  He saw the danger, then beckoned her with his hand. She ran to him. Side by side they dashed to the horse of the man with the broken jaw. Teo swung into the saddle and helped Ana up behind him. Though she clasped him around the chest and was pressed against his injured back, he didn’t flinch. Dark fumes swirled across the mountainside. Angry shouts and hissing bolts filled the air as Teo and Ana disappeared into the night on the back of a single horse.

  C H A P T E R

  10

  Stratetix and Helena made their way up the trail from the ferryboat on the river. The headquarters and barracks of the Fifth Regiment sat on a low hill called the Belpberg. The name was ancient, predating the founding of Chiveis, though the buildings of those days had long since disappeared. Today the Royal Guard used the forested prominence to guard the Farm River and spy out the surrounding land. The view of Chiveis’s snowcapped peaks was magnificent on a clear day.

  As the married couple walked uphill, Helena admired the way her husband moved so effortlessly despite being encumbered by a bolt of thick woolen cloth. It was early spring, which meant no grain or vegetables were available for sale to the guardsmen. However, the dark winter months were perfect for spinning and weaving at home, so Helena had some excellent fabric to offer. That was the genius of the Chiveisi. Though the kingdom’s natural resources were few, its clever and industrious citizens excelled at processing raw materials into something worth having.