DAWN OF THE PHOENIX

by A. J. STRICKLER

  They made their way to the back of the palace. Kian knew this entrance well. The queen had him brought through this door when he had needed to enter the palace.

  Kian saw the four guards who had been assigned to the back entrance. He sheathed Malice and walked up the short flight of steps as if he was meant to be there. “Who are you?” one of the Abberdonians asked.

  With a burst of his unnatural speed, Kian killed all four of the unprepared guards before they could cry out. The first hit the ground as he pulled Malice from the fourth.

  “I thought the plan was to use stealth, not just kill everyone in the city,” Rhys said.

  “If I was only going to rely on stealth, I would not have brought you and a pregnant woman with me,” Kian said without turning around. “I don’t know how many men occupy the palace, we will just have to see. If there are too many, I want you two to get yourselves out. I will manage.”

  “How many is too many?” Endra asked jokingly.

  “More than I can kill,” Kian whispered.

  Rhys patted the swordsman on the back. “It will be hard to judge, as we have yet to find that number, my friend.”

  They walked through the back doors. They were large and ornate and made a lot of noise when they were pushed open. In the rear foyer, another pair of guards met a swift and bloody end. The palace seemed almost deserted. “K’xarr sent most of the queen’s staff with her to the Bluff,” Endra said quietly. “Havalon must not have had time to replace them.” Kian nodded his agreement as the three moved silently through the halls. They needed to find the entrance to the dungeon. That’s where Cromwell and K’xarr would be, if they still lived.

  They drifted through the palace like shadows until Rhys spotted an elderly woman he knew. The old woman was roaming the halls of the palace on a late-night errand for one of her new masters, no doubt. She had been the servant the queen had assigned to see to his wishes during his stay at the palace. The old servant must have wanted to stay or had been left behind when the queen went south. He went forward away from Kian and Endra and talked to her quietly. “I remember her,” Endra told Kian. “Rhys saved her daughter from a terrible fever; she will help us.” The maid smiled at Rhys and gave him a quick hug before going back to her duties. Rhys came back to the dark alcove where the two were hiding behind a large statue of the late King Aaron.

  “She said there are few Abberdonians in the palace. Havalon looted the place then left. There are eight besides the ones you killed near the main entrance. She told me how to get to the dungeons too. The rest of the Abberdonians are down there with the prisoners. She said she takes them their meal.”

  “Has she seen K’xarr or Cromwell?” Kian asked.

  “She said she didn’t know if they were down there or not. She never got a look at any of the prisoners.”

  Kian thought a moment. “This place is big enough that we should be able to get down there without the guards at the entrance hearing us. If we keep quiet, we should only have to deal with the guards below. Lead on, Rhys, and be careful.”

  Kian and Endra followed Rhys to the dungeon passageway. They eased the door open and headed down. Kian took the lead. The passage was not lit well and there were a lot of stairs. Kian had to slow his pace so Endra and Rhys could keep up. They couldn’t see in the dim light as well as he could.

  Kian stopped abruptly and sniffed the air. “There are men just ahead,” he whispered.

  Endra drew her sword and Kian tightened his grip on Malice.

  As the trio got to the bottom of the stairs, they could see six guards sitting around a table. They were throwing dice and drinking. Everyone froze as the two groups spotted each other.

  One of the Abberdonians started to stand. Kian kicked the table into him, pinning him against the wall. Malice glided through the air and severed two of the guards’ heads before they could stand up. Endra caved in the skull of another. The man pinned by the table tried to wiggle free. Kian kicked the table harder, breaking the man's pelvis.

  Rhys winced at the sound of the bones crunching and the man’s screams of agony. One man had managed to draw his blade and sent a deadly thrust at Endra. She parried it and kicked him in the chest. The Abberdonian guard fell into his remaining companion, knocking both men on their backsides.

  Kian put his blade on one man’s throat. Endra did the same to the other. “Take us to the prisoners.”

  The guard was too afraid to talk, but he nodded in agreement until Rhys thought it might come off. The Abberdonian stood up. Kian disarmed him. Endra stripped the other guard of his weapons as well. Rhys had moved the table and was examining the man with the broken pelvis. The Abberdonian was in a great deal of pain. He was pleading for the healer to help him. Kian walked over and plunged Malice in to the man’s chest, ending his life. Rhys looked up at the half-elf, stunned by the swordsman’s callous act. “I’m sorry, but there is no time for that, Rhys.” The healer solemnly lowered his head in agreement.

  They walked down the filthy hallway of cells. The place was damp and smelled of urine and feces. A few of the cells were filled with dirty and half-starved prisoners. Kian had the guards set them free. The freed men hurried down the hall, elated to be out of the dank prison.

  The guards led them to the final cell in the hallway. K’xarr and Cromwell stood looking through the bars, Cromwell was smiling and K’xarr was staring dumbfounded. “I told you the gods would not let us die in this squalor,” Cromwell said, as he reached out of the bars and grabbed Kian by the shoulders. “You’re a prettier sight than a Celonian whore. It’s good to see you, Arradar.”

  “I would have bet my last copper you were dead,” K’xarr said as Kian opened the cell, letting both men out.

  “Endra, may I see your dagger?” K’xarr asked pleasantly. Endra handed him her large hunting knife. K’xarr looked at the knife, then he slit one guard’s throat and plunged the blade into the other man’s crotch, both falling to the floor, bleeding profusely. Then the Camiran handed the blade back to Endra. “That’s for the beating and the bad food, you filthy curs.”

  “For the love of…” Rhys moaned, surprised by the sudden violence. He looked at the two Abberdonian soldiers and shook his head. There was nothing he could do.

  The group started back up the hall. “Where the hell have to you been?” K’xarr asked as he slapped Kian on the back.

  K’xarr and Cromwell rearmed themselves with the dead guard’s weapons; neither man looked well. Rhys kept trying to see if they had a fever, but both shooed him off.

  “This is not a two-handed Toran war sword, but I guess it will do,” Cromwell said as he looked over one of the dead men’s swords.

  “It works the same. You stick the pointed end in your enemy, you thick-skulled bull,” K’xarr said, grinning.

  “The front of the palace is guarded by eight men, they should not be much trouble,” Kian said as he looked up the stairs.

  “Wait a second, Kian, didn’t you say you came in the back way?” K’xarr asked as he sheathed the sword he had chosen.

  “We did, the guards there are dead. There is no one to fight in back,” Kian said as he looked at the general, confused.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to get out that way? It would be faster and we wouldn’t have to fight?”

  Kian thought a moment. “Yes, I guess it would.”

  K’xarr sighed. “How you managed this without me, I will never know.”

  Cromwell patted Kian on the back. “I would have gone out the front too.”

  Kian looked at Endra, she was trying hard not to laugh.

  Kian frowned. “I don’t get it.”

  The group left the palace unseen and slipped quickly through the garden. “We need horses,” K’xarr said.

  “Why? Let’s just climb the wall and get out of here. You all have wounds that need seeing to, and I can tell that you feverish just by looking at you, K’xarr.” It was easy to see the healer was irritated that his assistance was being ignored.

 
K’xarr’s body agreed with the Rhys, but he didn’t. “No, I plan to get to the Bluff before Havalon and his army of bastards. He just left a few days ago. We can travel much faster than his army does. We can beat him to the Bluff if we hurry, we just need some mounts.”

  Just before dawn, the small group slipped into the royal stable and saddled some horses, heading to the southern gate. Kian had already killed the guards there and their bodies had not been found as of yet. So they simply rode away, leaving the fallen city behind.

  K’xarr didn’t let them slow down until nightfall. A breeze was coming out of the south. The warmth it brought felt good to the haggard group.

  They stopped long enough for Rhys to treat them and bind their wounds as best he could without any supplies. “K’xarr, I’m not happy with the way that arm looks. The wounds in your leg are clean enough, but the arm is infected and I have nothing to give you for it, and Cromwell is not in much better shape. If you would let me rest awhile, I could use my talent to treat your wounds.”

  “We will be okay until we reach Braxton Bluff, Rhys. I’ll last a few more days. Don’t worry.”

  Rhys’s lips tightened. “You have a fever. I don’t know if it can wait that long, General.”

  “It will have to, we ride on.”

  Rhys stomped to his horse. “You’re a foolish ass, General. I might be cutting that arm off when we get to the Bluff.”

  K’xarr gave the healer a weary smile. “I have faith that you will find another way, my friend. I won’t be much use with one arm.”

  “You’re not much use with two,” Cromwell said as he climbed up on his horse.

  “And you’re of no use no matter how many arms you have, you brainless ox,” K’xarr said, glaring at the Toran. Cromwell laughed grimly as the group turned their horses and rode hard to the south.

  It took less than a week before the Bandaran people opened the gates for their prince and his army. A huge battle ensued inside the city.

  Havalon had left six thousand men behind to hold the city until he returned. It would have been enough to do the job if the citizens had not opened the gates and let the Bandarans in. In the end, the Abberdonians just didn’t have enough men to keep Cain from retaking the city. They did make a good account of themselves, cutting the Bandaran forces down to less than fifteen thousand men.

  Cain stood in the middle of the Great Market with Duke Blackthorn and Lord Justice Milara. The Bandaran people were overjoyed that the Abberdonians had been pushed out of their city. They were chanting “Prince Cain” over and over, giving the young man a hero’s welcome home. The Abberdonians had made them forget about Cain’s tax levies.

  As Talorn approached to give his report, he saw anger written all over Cain’s face. It surprised the Bandaran general. He thought the people’s warm reception was just what Cain wanted. “What’s wrong, Majesty?”

  Cain did not look at his commander, clutching at the hilt of his sword as if he was trying to crush it. “Do you not hear them? Prince Cain? She has turned them against me. Your wife has stolen the people from me. How does she do it, Talorn? What is the secret that draws the people to her like flies to shit?”

  “Majesty, they don’t know what has happened, they only know their prince has saved them from the Abberdonians. They are unaware of the politics of the kingdom. When things are settled and you retake the throne, everything will be fine. You will see. Once the Abberdonians are driven out of Bandara completely, Raygan will most likely hand you back the crown without a word.”

  Cain didn’t answer. He knew his sister better than Talorn did. She would never give the Phoenix Throne back to him willingly. He turned and hurried toward the palace. The three men watched him go without comment.

  “Talorn, you should see to the army, make sure they are fed and billeted,” Duke Blackthorn suggested, ignoring Cain’s outburst and patting his son on the shoulder.

  “I was just about to do that, Father. Uh, Lord Justice Milara, Your Eminence? Once I’m finished with my duties, I will start finding out what I can about the whereabouts of the half-elf. If he is in the city, my men will find him.”

  Milara inclined his head toward the Talorn. “I thank you, General Blackthorn. I will be at the cathedral if you have need of me.” The lord justice gave Duke Blackthorn a knowing look and headed in the direction of the royal cathedral accompanied by Commander Deverall and his Knights of Deliverance.

  “Father, I will talk with you later.”

  “Fine, Son, that will be fine.”

  Talorn shook his head. He could tell his father had other things on his mind. He pulled himself into his saddle and rode to where the majority of the army still lingered, awaiting his orders.

  William stood in the square a bit longer with his personal guard. He didn’t hear his captain approach. “Glad to be back in Turill, sir?” Greyson asked.

  The duke slowly turned toward the young officer. “Ah, Captain Kyle, nice to see you. You look no worse for wear. To answer your question, yes, it’s good to be back. I want you to know I will see you are rewarded for your efforts. Without you and my men, it would have been a much more difficult return to Turill. ” The duke turned away from his captain and gazed at the crowd of people that had turned out to see their prince’s return. The civilians had begun to disperse and return to their daily activities.

  Greyson could tell the old man was planning as he watched the men and women of Bandara carrying on with their lives. The duke’s mind was seldom at rest, looking at every situation to find how he could make it benefit him. Greyson wished he had the duke’s insight. If he had, he would be far more than a captain now.

  “Greyson, I want you to bring a small group of our men and follow me.”

  “Where to, my lord?”

  “We need to go see the king. He is out of sorts and I have just the thing to set his mind at ease.” Greyson looked at the duke quizzically as he called for a squad of his best men.

  Cain was sitting on the throne. He had tried to quell his anger, but the more he thought about his sister, the angrier he got. He imagined wrapping his hands around her delicate throat and strangling the life from her. Prince Cain. How dare the people call him “prince”? He was king. His birthright had been stole from him, were they too stupid to see that? They had readily accepted her as queen. She had always been the people’s favorite, and she exploited that every chance she got. Raygan had gotten her way once again. “By God, it will be the last time,” Cain muttered through gritted teeth.

  “May I have a word, Majesty?” William Blackthorn asked as he walked into the throne room. The self-proclaimed king had been so engrossed in his plans for revenge that he hadn’t heard the duke come in.

  Cain motioned the duke in. He recognized the man with Blackthorn as the duke’s Captain Greyson Kyle, the man who had betrayed his sister. He was going to have the man charged with treason, but perhaps he should have him promoted instead. “What do you want, William? I’m not in the mood for any nonsense.”

  The duke put his hands behind his back. “I wanted to talk about your sister and those traitors out there calling you Prince Cain. I think the people of Bandara have forgotten who their king is. They have made it clear where their loyalties lie, sire. They have chosen Raygan over you.”

  Cain gripped the arms of the throne. “Just what do you suggest I do, Duke Blackthorn? My sister has run away, she is not here to deal with. If she were, I promise you she would answer for her treachery.”

  The duke raised his eyebrows. “No, your sister is not here, but the people who support her are. Believe me, Majesty, if your sister returns, we will have a problem. We have spoken about this before and what must happen regarding your sister. I have asked the lord justice to help us, but if his agents fail, we must be in control of the streets of Turill. We can’t deal with Raygan right at the moment, but the people can be taught a lesson now. They must learn who has the power in Bandara.”

  Cain threw his arms in the air. “What would you have me
do, hang them?”

  “Why yes, Majesty, that is exactly what advice I would give.”

  Cain slowly lowered his arms. The young prince was shocked by the duke’s response. He thought for a moment, tapping his finger on the arm of the throne. No ruler of Bandara had ever done anything like that in the history of the kingdom.

  “Do you always want to be Prince Cain? If your sister escapes Havalon, do you want to serve her? The people are the key, you must show them who wields the power of the Phoenix Throne. Majesty, Bandara is your birthright, will you stand by and see it torn from your grasp?” The duke shook his head and shrugged. “Perhaps you will be satisfied to be known as the Phoenix Queen’s brother.”

  “Have it done,” Cain shouted.

  “Captain Kyle, if you would be so kind. I know this is a tough order, but see one thousand citizens are hanged from the walls, pick them at your discretion.”

  Greyson was taken aback by the order, but he saluted and left the room.

  “That should do the trick, Majesty. By tonight, the people will know their king has returned.”

  Greyson was waiting as the duke came out of the throne room. “Are you sure you want me to do this, my lord? The people will be furious and it will cause unrest in the city.”

  Blackthorn patted him on the shoulder. “Yes, it will cause the citizens of Turill to hate the man that gave the order.” The duke smiled at his captain. “Greyson, just make sure you let everyone know it is in Cain’s name you’re doing this. Tell everyone it is on his order, understand?”