Kudisha Departure Episode 1 Journey to Rehnor series

by J. Naomi Ay

  Journey to Rehnor

  Departure – Episode 1

  Kudisha

  by

  J. Naomi Ay

  Published by Ayzenberg Inc.

  Copyright Ayzenberg, Inc. 2012- 2015

  All Rights Reserved

  090115

  Cover Design by Amy Jambor

  Cover Art by Depositphotos.com/diversepixel

  Also by J. Naomi Ay

  The Two Moons of Rehnor series

  The Boy who Lit up the Sky

  My Enemy's Son

  Of Blood and Angels

  Firestone Rings

  The Days of the Golden Moons

  Golden’s Quest

  Metamorphosis

  The Choice

  Treasure Hunt

  Space Chase

  Imperial Masquerade

  Rivalry

  Thirteen

  Betrayal

  Fairy Tales

  Gone for a Spin

  Journey to Rehnor Serial Episodes

  Departure -1- Kudisha

  Departure -2- Shrotru

  Departure 3 – Kirkut (Coming Feb 2015)

  Chapter 1

  Karukan was never meant to be king. That exclusive honor was destined for his elder brother, Sorran, who had been groomed and prepared for it even before his much anticipated birth. Should Sorran have been unable or deemed unfit to perform the duties entrusted upon him, the next eldest, Revak was designated as a replacement. Karukan, being the youngest male child, and the baby of the family, never anticipated that he would ever be called upon in this capacity, and thus, had led a relatively untroubled and happy life.

  Of course, there was that ongoing war with Hahr. No one could be truly carefree with young men marching off to their deaths on a daily basis. Yet, after all these many, many years of battling, the war was more of a background noise than anything else, and consequently, never given more than a passing thought by young Karukan.

  No one was entirely certain what the war was about any more anyway. Land and God most likely, as that was what usually incited men to declare all others worthy of defeat on the field of battle.

  However, if any young person should dare to ask, ‘What danger requires that I march off to my imminent death, as well as slay the other guy in the process,’ an elder person might respond with some complex and complicated explanation or obfuscation that essentially answered nothing.

  “Well, you see, the people of Hahr are our enemies,” the elder might say. “Long ago they did this or that to us. They crossed this red line, and violated that treaty. We need to war with them for our own safety. Do it for your mother.”

  And so, countless generations on both sides spent their best, and in some cases, only, years attempting to annihilate the other. Karukan was oblivious to it, though. He was the quintessentially handsome, and pampered prince, adored by his loving mother, and three elder, and equally doting sisters.

  When Karukan was fifteen years old, and in prep school, spending his days ignoring teachers and forgetting homework, Sorran became king. Their father had died suddenly of a heart attack, literally falling over and out of his throne, during a parliamentary meeting that had gone on for hours. No one was certain why the old king had expired so suddenly. Although the meeting was boring, it was no more stressful than usual. The arguments were certainly not worthy of causing the old man a coronary. A headache, yes, but nothing more lethal than that. However, gone he was, and thus, Sorran was now in charge, something the twenty-five year old Crown Prince assumed with relish.

  Determined to end the wars forever by overwhelming Hahr with every means at his disposal, Sorran immediately unleashed a barrage of his most incendiary, although conventional devices. Karupatani had an arsenal of nuclear missiles, something Sorran was game to deploy. However, his father’s advisors did their best to convince him otherwise.

  Also, there was that annoying Parliament that, in Sorran’s mind, served only to stay his hand, and nothing else. This was contrary to the responsibilities of his office, as defined and obeyed by Sorran’s forefathers for centuries already, which were simply to agree and add his signature to the bills passed by the people’s representatives. Sorran was to keep his opinions neutral, smile handsomely, and put on a good show by marrying an appropriately beautiful princess, and siring darling children who would do the same.

  However, the young king found these restrictions intolerable, for he was inclined to believe himself both more handsome and intelligent than anyone else, including all parliamentary politicians, who were by definition both ugly and stupid. He was also in possession of a pen and a phone with which he would first sign off an order to nuke Hahr to bloody hell, and then, phone it in to his airforce.

  “No, you mustn’t, Sir,” the Lord Chamberlain had begged, whilst wishing that he too had fallen over and died like his friend, the current king’s father. This young man was rash, and had no respect for the way things had always been even if those things might be considered less than perfect. Life had been good though. Not great, but good most definitely, and certainly better than life after nuclear decimation.

  Fortunately, at least for a while, Sorran’s hand was stayed by the current crop of politicians who possessed backbones. The bombs subsequently unleashed upon Hahr killed many, but not all, and thus, the wars continued just as they always had done.

  In the meantime, Hahr retaliated with their own bombs, for they felt likewise about Karupatani, and were ruled by an equally young and enigmatic king named Markiis Kalila. He also had a nuclear arsenal as vast and as deadly, with the same desire to blow Karupatani to Hell, and back, or just to Hell. Markiis Kalila’s princely hand, was also stayed by his late-father’s advisors. Thus, like Hahr, Karupatani was spared becoming a sheet of glass, if only temporarily.

  However, Markiis Kalila was bold, and he, too, thought himself far superior to anyone else, so with his own pen and phone, he matched Sorran’s barrage, as well as upped the ante. Using one of the largest devices in his possession, a body buster of an amazing amount of force, Kalila had it dropped upon the Royal Palace of Karupatani.

  At the exact moment when King Markiis Kalila’s kiss plummeted heavily from the sky, King Sorran de Kudisha happened to be entertaining his mistress, as well as her friend, and two other young women in a hot tub on the Palace’s back deck. Sorran’s mother, the dowager queen, and his three princess sisters were in the dining room eating quail in a sauce Béarnaise with a side of sautéed mushrooms, and new potatoes.

  Prince Revak, the next in line, was not in residence at that moment, having just this day, completed officer’s training school for the Royal Guard. He was celebrating his new commission at a café in the city of Tirkoop, joined by a few girls, who were tussling over who might sit next upon his lap. Revak was enjoying this minor commotion, for all the girls were beautiful and well endowed, and ultimately, he would end up with everyone before the night was through.

  Before Revak could sip the foam from the top of his espresso cup, and before the brunette was knocked from her perch on his left knee, he was interrupted by the ringing of his cellphone. Having been informed of the fate of the king, his elder brother, something Revak had only dreamt about for most of his life, and with only a tiny measure of regret for the night he would now be missing, the new king immediately departed for the Royal Palace in Kudisha. As the Royal Limo had been parked inside the palace garage, and like the residence, was now reduced to a pile of smoldering ash, King Revak was forced to travel to his throne by city bus.

  A temporary palace was established at the family’s summer residence near a lake, a small cottage with only
nineteen bedrooms, and forty baths. It was large enough for just Revak, and his retinue of lords and ladies, with only a single room to spare for his youngest and sole remaining sibling.

  “Summon my brother immediately,” King Revak commanded, from the throne which had been his father’s favorite deck chair. “I need the baby, Karukan, here to help me out.”

  The next day, while standing on a soccer field in the midst of a driving rain, and wishing he was inside doing something else, Karukan was confronted with the most horrific news. This was immediately after the ball was lobbed in his direction by a passer. The boy had intended for the prince to receive it, and follow through with the effort of driving it to the goal. Karukan had been standing cold and bored, for soccer was merely a sport he was required to play in order to fulfill the physical education credit demanded by the school.

  Dispassionately, he gazed at the bouncing ball as it trundled almost exactly to his feet. Half-heartedly, he held out a foot, and unfortunately, trapped it. Languidly, he coaxed his legs into a run, only to be flattened by the opposing team as they converged upon the ball, three men abreast.

  Karukan was left to lay upon the grass newly covered in brown mud, as well as in possession of a few new bumps and scratches to his royal knees. He was considering how much he truly hated this game, and always had, when the referee’s whistle blew to immense relief. Karukan assumed this was due to an injury timeout, as he had made no effort rise from his prone position. In fact, he preferred to lay amongst the muck, delaying the game for as long as he possibly could, running the clock, and hoping it would soon be over.

  “I’m okay, Coach,” he mumbled, grabbing his knee and moaning dramatically, when several legs and feet gathered around his head.

  “Sir,” someone other than the coach replied. “Your Royal Highness, are you alright?”

  “I’m just winded, and maybe, slightly injured. That’s all. I’m getting up.” Karukan half rose to his knees, before realizing he was surrounded by Royal Guard.

  “Sir. Your brother, His Majesty King Revak requests your presence at the Royal Palace.”

  “Kari-fa!” Karukan swore. “King Revak? What’s happened now?”

  Chapter 2

  Karukan was summoned to his brother’s side, not to provide assistance or wise counsel. Rather, King Revak, having acquired the much coveted crown, meant to do everything in his power not to lose it. This would include keeping his brother under tight supervision, surrounded by Royal Guardsmen for his own safety all night and day.

  “You see, dear brother,” Revak proclaimed, upon issuing the edict which confined Karukan to the estate. “You are my only heir. I must make certain you stay alive. Without us, the crown will pass from the princes of Kudisha to our unworthy distant cousins of Tirkoop. We wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?”

  “No.” Karukan shook his head, woefully following the Royal Guard who locked him in his room.

  Karukan understood the reasoning behind his brother’s limitations, but disagreed when it came to the implementation. However, he did not protest, as his brother was the King, and Karukan had been raised to obey his liege’s command. In an odd way, the boy was actually pleased that he was now prohibited from exercising beyond a daily walk about the grounds, as he was no longer required to suffer the indignities of a soccer.

  Further, the King insisted that his brother’s meals be strictly controlled, lest someone attempt to poison the heir with something in his food.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the maid was often heard to say, as she left his dinner at the young man’s door. “It’s hard biscuits and water again for this meal.”

  “It’s fine,” Karukan sighed, grasping the tray through the small slot. “I’ve quite grown to like them.” And, indeed, he did, especially with cream and jam.

  Karukan enjoyed staying alone in his room, as he was a prolific reader of literature of all sorts, and he wrote extensively in journals, recording his every thought. On many days, it was only the serving maid who shared words with the young prince, except for the invisible companion, which everyone had heard about, but no one else saw.

  “It is a concern to me,” the Lord Chamberlain announced, during a quiet moment with the King as he toured the reconstruction efforts at the Royal Palace. “Your brother is quite happy conversing with no one but the air. The maids and guards are all gossiping that he is insane.”

  Revak made appropriately concerning noises, while running a hand along a newly installed gold rail, for his rebuilt palace would be significantly improved from the somewhat modest building that had been before. This new edifice would be a testament to Revak in both beauty and size, dwarfing the King of Hahr’s place by more than twice.

  “Perhaps, letting him out on occasion for fresh air and exercise would do the boy good. Allowing him to socialize with young people of his own age would encourage him to speak to someone real, instead of a mental fabrication.”

  “Mhm,” Revak mumbled again, testing a foot upon the smooth and glossy marble floors.

  “Furthermore,” the Lord Chamberlain continued. “The Prime Minister is suggesting you both be matched to appropriate young ladies who will be capable of providing the realm with future heirs.”

  Revak waved a royal hand dismissively, for he had heard this refrain before. A bride for himself, and one for his brother to ensure the line.

  “Fine. Whatever.” The King strode away to his car, which would return him to the summer house by the lake. There, his latest paramour waited patiently for him in bed, which aside from retaining his throne, was Revak’s only concern.

  Two young ladies were then designated as the most appropriate marriageable material for a king and his brother, the mad young prince. The elder was the Lady Myra, daughter of the Duke of Kirkut, tall, blonde, and exceptionally lovely, although a bit of a shrew. This fact was something Revak wouldn’t find out until it was too late, but by then, he was too far gone to care.

  Lady Lorena, the daughter of the Duke of Tirkoop was also available, although she was young yet at only fifteen years old. She had a pretty face, and a genetic makeup which included a shared ancestry with the de Kudishas, but Lorena was a bit chubby to put it mildly.

  Actually, the girl enjoyed food far too profusely. Had she dropped half her body weight, she would have still been fat. However, she had a personality as lovely as her bright eyes and smile, and was forever laughing joyously, endearing all with her full and compassionate heart.

  “That ought to make her the perfect nurse for my mad brother and his invisible companion,” Revak decided. “Certainly, there’s room for both of them at her enormous breast.”

  Thus, Revak and Myra were quickly wed, while Karukan and Lorena were betrothed to be wed in seven years upon the prince’s twenty-third birthday.

  The royal wedding of Revak and Myra served to knock Karupatani out of its doldrums for a brief time, as good news was few and far between. Both the war and the constant stream of battle deaths were an immense drain on the economy’s growth, as the people’s enthusiasm for shopping rarely went beyond anything not required for survival.

  Wedding parties and banquets were planned and many dresses commissioned, while the new palace was finished at a breakneck speed. The new queen was photographed and adored for her every move, often seen waving to the people as she rushed in and out of her chauffeured car, or occasionally posing with a brave soldier heading off to war.

  Lorena, in the meantime, vowed to commence a new routine of both diet and exercise in order to reduce her body prior to her own wedding. Seven years ought to be a sufficient amount of time to acquire a figure similar to her future sister-in-law.

  Although the couple had never met in person, Lorena had seen pictures of Karukan on TV, and she knew he was exceptionally handsome by anyone’s standards. Her greatest fear was at the altar, he’d gaze with horror upon her size, and immediately declare her unsuitable as a mate. Lorena would be standing alone, shamed and embarrassed before a prime-time planet
wide audience, forever after, a laughing stock to be mocked on daytime TV. However much the young prince insisted this would never happen, for the couple corresponded by email regularly, Lorena did her best to dramatically cut her intake.

  Karukan, in the meantime was still confined to the summer house, released only once to attend his brother’s wedding. Immediately afterward, he was returned to his lonely room in the near empty estate, except for the single maid, and the single butler who saw to his needs, however few.

  “I’m perfectly fine with this,” he told Lorena in an email the next day. “I enjoy both the solitude and time I have available to reflect.”

  “What about school?” the girl inquired, for she was attending the local preparatory academy, a place where the daughters of only the bluest blood were allowed.

  “Online classes,” Karukan replied. “Although His Majesty, my brother may allow me out when I am old enough to enlist in the Royal Guard.”

  When Karukan turned eighteen and Queen Myra was pregnant with the Royal Heir, Revak finally relented and allowed his brother the freedom to join the Royal Guard. The young prince’s release was only granted with the provision that upon commission, he would be sent to the front, for the King still felt great fear he’d lose his throne to his usurper sibling.

  Karukan, who despite his treatment remained forever loyal, and upon the advice of his invisible friend, gladly jumped at the opportunity to leave the summer house.

  “I’m off to fight the war, and secure Karupatani,” he wrote to Lorena, who was now attending the university in Tirkoop with the intent to acquire a degree in something useful. As to her size- well, she still had five more years until the wedding.