Freedom by Fire

by C P MacDonald

  “That was a Gypsy?” asked Gunn. “I thought they stayed on their caravan ships in deep space. I’ve never heard of them planet-side.”

  Morgan shrugged, his eyes constantly scanning for dangers around them, “It happens. Sometimes, if they lose their tribe or the caravan needs repairs, they get stuck dirt-side for a while.” Gesturing around them he added, “But even low-level societies like this will eventually kick them out. All they do is stir up trouble, steal, and use their fortune-telling to confuse Fate.” He scowled and whispered hauntingly, “Men should not meddle with destiny.”

  Morgan’s tone surprised Blayne. Looking sideways at the Knight he asked, “Do you believe they can tell the future?”

  Shaking his head Morgan said, “I don’t know if they can or not, but I’ve heard some of the fortunes they told my soldiers, and they ended up being eerily accurate. I don’t want to tempt fate by knowing her plans. Better safe than sorry.”

  Blayne smirked at Morgan. Here was the Head Knight of the planet Dunadd, and he feared a little old gypsy woman.

  “Here we go,” Morgan pointed. Above their heads was a small blinking sign, only half of the neon lights worked, spelling out Junction 89. “Looks like an apartment building,” Morgan commented, leaning back to stare up at the building.

  Blayne looked at the building in surprise and frowned in disgust, “People live here?”

  Swinging the rifle off his back into a ready position, Morgan pounded on the door with a fist. To Blayne the thumps sounded like a solar system-wide announcement, “Hey everyone, We’re over here! Come get us!”

  The old door slowly creaked open on rusty hinges to reveal an empty dark hallway leading back into the decrepit building. Morgan hurried them inside and into the darkness before closing the door behind them. It surprised Blayne to hear pneumatic locks hissing as it locked into place. It seemed there was more to this place than what met the eye.

  “Well, someone wanted us here. Let’s see what they want,” Morgan said dryly and led the way down the hallway. Blayne pulled out his blaster and followed. Together they crept down the hallway, peeking into the dark doorways on either side. So far all the rooms were empty, with old stained mattresses on the floor and trash piled in the corners. Blayne's nose itched from the harsh smell of rot and decay that filled the hallway.

  “Psst…” Morgan hissed and pointed forward with his rifle barrel. At the end of the hallway, one door had a soft light shining through the crack at the bottom. Motioning for Gunn and Cadee to stay behind them, Morgan and Blayne silently crept to either side of the hall, weapons pointed at the door. Holding up his fingers, Morgan counted down from three, and when he reached one he kicked the door open. Together they sprung through, diving to the side, guns at the ready.

  Both blasters immediately tracked to a figure in the center of the room sitting at a desk. The hooded figure held its hands up in the air, and said, “I am unarmed. I see you got my message, Sir Knight and Your Excellence.”

  Blayne kept his gun trained on the mysterious figure and asked, “Who the hell are you? And how the hell do you know who we are?”

  The figure calmly pointed at its hood before lowering their hands to pull it back. An old woman sat in front of them, silver-white hair pulled tight against her head, the deep wrinkles that creased her face, a testament to great age. “I am Uta. I oversee the Dunadd population here on Crorix. Well, what’s left of us anyway,” she huffed and gestured at their weapons. “You can put your blasters down, you are in no danger here.”

  The feeling that he had met her before, that he should know her, unsettled Blayne. A memory itched in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t place it.

  Blayne followed Morgan’s lead when the Knight lowered his rifle. To Blayne’s shock Morgan stepped forward and gripped the old lady’s hand with familiarity and a warm smile before saying, “Well, this is a surprise. It’s good to see you again, old friend.”

  Although hunched in frailty, the woman’s voice carried surprising strong authority, “And you too, Morgan. It has been a long time.” She turned to Blayne and Cadee with a low bow. Morgan pulled her up gently by the arm saying, “Please, not here. We need to keep a low profile.”

  “Oh, sorry. Please forgive this old woman, decades of habit are hard to override, hmm?” she asked.

  Morgan turned to the group of young people, “Everyone, I would like you to meet my old Master, this is Knight Uta.” Morgan said with a flourish and bow toward the old lady.

  “Former Knight, former.” Uta corrected with a small laugh.

  Cadee interrupted, “Uta, Uta… I seem to remember that name. Did you serve at the Palace?”

  Nodding, the old Knight replied, “Yes dear, I did. I served your grandfather for several decades before I retired. You have a good memory, you were just a wee one when I left.” Patting Morgan on the shoulder gently, she added. “Morgan here was my prized pupil and took my place as Head Knight.”

  Blayne cocked his head. A memory came flooding back. “You gave me my first skyboard. Well, a toy one anyway.” He was young at the time, eight or nine, and now he remembered the old Knight giving him a toy skyboard that rolled on wheels. He unconsciously grinned at the memory, surfing down the hallways and ramps in the Palace for hours, people desperately dodging out of the way of the reckless Prince.

  Nodding, the old knight said, “Yes, and your mother gave me hell for it,” she said with a grin. Leaning forward, she asked, “I've heard about Dunadd. Where is your mother? And your father? Why aren’t they with you?”

  Cadee’s eyes fell, and she softly said, “Mother didn’t make it.” Blayne wrapped an arm around Cadee in a one-armed hug and added, “And the King stayed behind to fight Kessen. We have heard nothing about him since we left.”

  “Oh my dear, I am so sorry. So sorry. Your mother was a great Queen and an old friend. Come on, let’s get you all settled.” She waved them further into the building. Leading the way, her cane clacked loudly on the worn floors.

  Blayne walked beside her and asked, “What is this place?”

  “After I retired, I volunteered to set up Crorix’s safe house for any expats that might need it. I have been here for almost fifteen years now.”

  With a bag apiece, it only took a few minutes for everyone to get settled into their rooms. Cadee had a room, surprisingly clean and maintained, to herself while Uta corralled the guys into a dingy barrack style sleeping room. They met in the kitchen area after they unpacked. Uta sat at the table drinking what smelled like the TriadVerse’s strongest coffee from a metal tankard while Morgan peeked through the boarded-up windows onto the street below.

  Cadee peered into the cabinets, “Is there any food here? I feel like I haven’t eaten in a week.”

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t have time to stock up for visitors. There is a bar next door that serves a decent meat pie.” The old Knight suggested. Cadee’s eyes lit up at the mention of meat pie.

  Gunn stood up, “I’ll take her.” Morgan's eyes squinted but before he could open his mouth to object Blayne interjected, "I’m sure it’s all right. As Uta said, it is right next door. If they need help, we are right here.”

  Morgan sighed, “OK, but be careful. And remember, keep a low profile.”

  Blayne added, “Gunn, you take care of my sister. Oh, and bring back a few beers.”

  “Just a few?” asked Gunn with a knowing grin as he slapped Blayne's shoulder in jest before they left.

  Morgan, checking the power levels on his rifle, “Blayne, this is a dangerous and highly volatile environment we are in now. You do what I tell you when I tell you, you got it? We may head into some dangerous areas while we are here so stick tight and pay attention.”

  Nodding, Blayne checked his own blaster’s power levels again and snapped it into his holster before he asked, “Uta, are there many expats here? We are looking for whoever we can find.” Gesturing around them at the building in concern, he asked, “They don’t live here, do they?”


  The old woman shook her head, her voice was laden with sadness, “No, not anymore. Over the years Dunadd's expats were forced deeper and deeper into the dark Districts of Crorix to hide. Bounty hunters, pirates, and Tyrell’s soldiers hunted many of our people, along with the expats of other Kingdoms.” She gripped the handle of her cane tighter, “Illegals and undocumented citizens are a prime source of slave labor here.” She paused and glared at the floor before she shook her head and tapped her cane.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Blayne offered.

  Clearing her throat, Uta stood up quickly for a woman of her apparent age and pointed to a cracked old couch against the wall, “Where are my manners? Here, sit.”

  The two men settled onto the offered couch, with the old woman standing in front of them. “When I received word of two new arrivals from Dunadd, I had to see for myself. Imagine my surprise when I learned the Head Knight and the Prince of Dunadd were here in my little District. So I sent for you.”

  Morgan looked at Blayne in concern. He was of the same mind. If someone knew they were here, there was a mole in the Palace, or the Federation.

  “You said our people used to live here. Where are they now?” Blayne asked.

  Shaking her head with sadness, Uta clasped her hands, “Last year the slavery raids got more frequent and dangerous. Even Tyrell's soldiers don’t come down this deep, very often, but when they do it gets deadly. They forced most of our people to move off-planet. There are a few of the more hardy types that stayed and secured a foothold for themselves. I am one. I also wanted to direct any new Dunadd refugees to the new homeplace.”

  Morgan frowned in confusion, “New homeplace? My Intel reported everyone came here, to Crorix.”

  “Oh, they do, at first. But unknown to your Intel network, this is just a stopover. It wasn’t safe for families to stay here. Not enough jobs, safety, or security. So together, with refugees from other planets, we made a new home, a private home. Not just for Dunadds, but for any refugee or expat in the TriadVerse. Refugees know to come to Crorix, that is no secret. But so far we have hidden the fact from the slavers and Tyrell that this is only a waystation, a stopover on the way to a new home.”

  “Well, where is it? We need to see them, we need their help,” Morgan barked his frustration.

  Laughing, Uta asked, “And why do you think they will help you? They left Dunadd for a reason, Sir Knight! Not everyone wants to be a serf serving some Lord in a castle, farming crops all year long. Some people want to live their own lives, raise their families under their own roof, and live by their own rules!”

  Blayne was slightly taken back by the strength of Uta’s sermon. He had never really thought about it, the lives of the people serving him and his family. To him, it was the way things always were and always will be. But in a bewildering revelation, he realized all the people who left Dunadd were looking for what he always wanted himself. Freedom. Freedom to be who they wanted to be and live how they wanted to live. The importance of his mission became slightly less urgent to his eyes. Could he, in good conscience, ask people to give up the very thing he had been wishing for all of his life? To give up their freedom to help them retake Dunadd from Kessen and his troops?

  Morgan interrupted his internal debate saying, “Why they left Dunadd is up to them, I don't care. We need their help. We would not ask if we did not have a choice! With Kessen and his Aratan army on Dunadd we need an army, any army, to take it back!”

  Morgan’s former boss crackled, “An army? Of former farmers? I may be a simple retired old Knight but even I think that would be a slaughter.”

  “It will not be only farmers, I received reports that indicated King Lamond has arranged for military help from the Mohi Kingdom. But their forces alone are not enough to fight the Aratan.”

  The old lady snapped, “You want to build an army of farmers and herdsman? That’s not an army, that’s a sacrifice!”

  “Let us talk to them, let them make the decision!” Morgan’s voice dropped even lower as his patience wore thin. “Where is this new secret home?”

  Inhaling sharply through her nose, Uta replied, “We established a new colony in the abandoned mines on Thyke 64.”

  “Thyke 64? The one they call the homeless planet?” Blayne asked surprised. “That planet is barely habitable! It has no resources and the air is barely breathable. Why in the world would they settle there?”

  The old woman looked at Blayne, concern and sadness welling in her eyes, “Because, there, they are free.”

  Chapter 15

  Cadee dove into her meat pie with unrestrained gusto. It felt like she hadn’t eaten in days. Has it only been two days since they escaped from Dunadd? And only a day since her mother… she shook her head. She would not dwell on that, her mother would not want her too. Even now she could hear her mother’s voice in her head still, telling her to act like a lady, but to be as stubborn and strong-willed as only she could.

  She chased the last bite of meat pie around the plate with her fork idly, lost in her memories. Across the table from her, Gunn dug into his second plate of pie, his eyes constantly watching the bar behind her. He had suggested Cadee sit with her back to the crowded room to help hide her face. They had no reason to believe Aratan forces had followed them to Crorix, but Gunn insisted on not taking any chances.

  “Your brother entrusted me to watch over you,” he said sternly, but still friendly. She had known Gunn most of her life. The redhead and her brother had been best friends as long as she could remember. Although Gunn sometimes rankled her nerves and annoyed her with his sense of humor, she couldn’t help but think of him as a brother. Overprotective and annoying, just like her actual brother.

  Not caring where she sat as long as she got some food, they had grabbed a corner table in the back of the dive bar. Cadee’s curiosity was almost overwhelming, urging her to turn around and observe the bar crowd and the environment. She had spent most of her young life stuck inside the Palace, surrounded by guards and servants. There had been the occasional trip outside the city walls to view the fields and learn the basics of agricultural economy. But all of her life she had been very sheltered so seeing ordinary working people in this bar, eating, smoking, and drinking was almost like going to the zoo and watching some exotic, unfamiliar animal.

  “You gonna eat that?” Gunn interrupted her thoughts, looking at her plate where she was still pushing around the last bite of meat with her fork. She looked him straight in the eye as she stabbed the chunk with her fork and popped it into her mouth with a smirk.

  “Well, if you're finally done, I’ll grab a couple of pies and beers to take back to the guys. Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he patted the table for emphasis. “And keep your head down.”

  She turned to watch Gunn weave his way through the crowd. She was almost envious of how casually he moved in here, like he had been doing it his entire life. And when she thought about it, she guessed he had. Although he had always been a constant fixture in the Palace, she sometimes forgot he had grown up a servant. So being around the regular population like this was not new to him like it was for her.

  Cadee noticed a few of the bar patrons sneaking glances in her direction so she quickly turned back around, letting her hair drop across her face as she sipped the fizzy drink Gunn had gotten her. She tried to order a beer, but he had refused, stating Blayne would kill him and Morgan would kill him again.

  Someone bumped her chair as a shadow fell across her. She looked up from her drink as two very large, and very rough-looking men, leaned casually against her table.

  “How you doing, sweetheart?” the uglier and larger one asked in a slurred voice. The glowing tattoo of a compass on his neck momentarily distracted her before she could reply. The other man, tall as the other was wide, leaned over and sniffed the glass in her hand. “That’s a mighty weak drink you have there, why don’t you let us get you a real one?” he purred with a high voice.

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you,” was all
she could stammer.

  “Where did your friend go?” the tattooed one asked. “Leaving a little thing like yourself, alone in here, not the smartest move. Don’t you think?” he questioned his tall friend.

  “No, no. Not the smartest move at all,” Too Tall answered with an grimy sneer. “Why don’t you stay with us, we will protect you from these lowlifes,” he purred. Tattoo busted out laughing, then took a long swig from the beer bottle in his meaty hand.

  “In fact, why don’t we get out of here and go somewhere more safe, hmmm…?” Too Tall reached across the table and quickly grabbed her wrist.

  Snapping her arm back, she warned, “I’m fine right where I am, thank you. Now I must ask you to kindly leave me be. My friend will be right back.”

  Too Tall moved beside her and she felt the sharp prick of cold steel poking her ribcage, “No, I think will go NOW!” he muttered in her ear. “And if you make so much as a squeak, I will spill your insides out all over this floor.”

  She tried to swallow, but her mouth and throat had gone desert dry. She tried to think of something to do, something to say, but her brain had turned off. The two men moved to either side of her, their hands under her arms as they forcibly dragged her out of her chair. She frantically looked around, trying to spot Gunn through the crowd. But there were people everywhere and she could not see him. Where was he?