Sully, seemingly thinking as I am, mutters, “Is that, wait a second, who is that?”
But before anyone can reply, his question is answered. A head, devoid of hair, pokes out and reveals nearly transparent skin beneath which a vivid entanglement of veins resides on full display. Black, lidless eyes peer up and zero in on us.
“Urthmen,” I hiss and my insides immediately tremble not with fear, but determination, as another Urthman exits the car from the driver’s side wearing a hat that is creased lengthwise down the crown and pinched near the front on both sides. A feather protrudes from a band around it and stirs in the slight breeze.
“Aye, you must have a death wish, coming here after we killed thousands of your men,” Killian barks. Every arrow along the wall is now trained on the two Urthmen.
Our scouts have reported that the King’s army returned to Kildare.
“Please, don’t fire your weapons. We come in peace,” the Urthman who stands beside the passenger side door says, his word spoken with uncharacteristic eloquence. Regardless, his message is utter nonsense.
“Peace!” I sneer. Peace is a word for which they have no use. Storming human villages, towns and cities and exterminating every human being they came across is but a mere fraction of their long and violent history. Peace is not a possibility. Bloodlust and aggression, a burgeoning need to hunt humans, is woven into the very fabric of their DNA.
“Please.” His voice is laden with urgency, and rightly so. He’s about to be drilled by dozens of arrows. “We’re here to speak with Azlyn, the leader of your people, on behalf of King Leon.”
Squaring my shoulders and stepping forward so that they can see me, I say, “I am Azlyn. What message does your king send?” Tell us and meet your demise. The thought shrieks through my body so loudly I wonder whether they can hear it.
“My lady, we come in peace,” the driver says in a manner that borders on respectful. “We’ve been sent by King Leon and wish to speak to you privately.”
Stunned by the Urthman’s ability to express himself, I do not react right away. Urthmen are incapable of sitting and talking to humans, at least not any that I’ve ever heard of. Incapable of controlling themselves physically, any encounter I’ve ever had with them ended in bloodshed. Still, one anomaly has remained in my brain since we overtook Cassowary. And that is the fact that Urthmen lived among the human slaves and managed to restrain themselves. They managed to keep from slaughtering thousands. How was that possible?
Instinct warns me to kill them where they stand, but curiosity nags my brain. Oddly intriguing and bizarre, these articulate Urthmen have piqued my interest. Not only do I want to hear the message King Leon wishes to relay, I also want to gain some insight into how Urthmen lived among humans and refrained from butchering them.
Tense seconds pass. The strain of violence quivers in the air. I look to Sully not for approval but to estimate his reaction. With his arms folded across his chest and his features hard, his expression is unreadable. Only the small muscles around his jaw move and reveal to me that his mind is working along with those muscles.
“Leave the vehicle where it is and move to the gate unarmed,” I say. In my periphery, Sully remains where he is. His head doesn’t swivel toward me and he doesn’t ask whether I’m sure I want Urthmen within my walls ever again. Instead, he walks beside me as I jog down the staircase and to the wheel that opens the gate. “Open it,” I tell the men who man it.
The men nod and begin turning the large steel helm. A rumbling moan ensues as gears protest and metal scrapes against metal.
Next to me, Sully’s solid arm touches mine until the gate parts and the two Urthmen, taller than I expected, are before me.
“So you have a plan?” Sully whispers to only me.
“Kind of,” I admit. “I’ll hear what they have to say then do whatever comes next.”
“Interesting plan,” Sully tips his head to one side and clips his chin.
I’m about to retort with a snappy comeback but one of the Urthmen steps forward and is promptly accosted by Killian, who followed us down the staircase. “Aye, not so fast!” his thick burr is little more than a growl as he collars the Urthman and yanks him backward.
“We come in peace. Please! My name is Julian. My associate, Fred, and I report directly to the King. We just want to talk to Azlyn!”
“And ye will, just as soon as I make sure ye aren’t armed.” Killian begins a thorough pat down of both Urthmen.
“But we told you we’re unarmed,” Julian protests, and in his voice I hear outrage. “My lady, please!” His eyes, though lidless and thoroughly disturbing in appearance, plead with me. He’s not accustomed to the treatment he’s receiving. And he sounds almost . . . human.
Sully looks at me questioningly. I shrug in response and allow Killian and another of my men to continue their examination. All the while, my mind reels at the fact that an Urthman referred to me as “my lady.” I’ve had the word “human” spat at me with disdain but never been referred to with respect to my position, as leader of my people. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was sincere.
When the search is completed, the Urthmen, ruffled and skittish, are ushered into my home. A large office, situated on the lowest level in the rear of the house, has an access point we enter from rather than the front door. I invite the Urthmen to sit in the two chairs positioned in front of a rectangular desk behind which I seat myself. Killian and two other armed troops remain with us and serve as guards, though I doubt we’ll need them. Sully and I could easily handle the two unarmed Urthmen before us. Lanky and as jumpy as deer, I’d bet my sword they’ve never seen a day of battle.
“Thank you for taking this meeting, my lady,” Fred says with a gracious bow of his head.
“Yes, it is most courteous of you,” Julian agrees.
Sully, standing beside me, stiffens. I feel the rigid cords of muscles that gallop down his forearm tighten as he clutches the hilt of his sheathed blade.
I understand his apprehension. I’m experiencing it too. All the pleasantries, the formality and graciousness, are incongruous. None are in keeping with Urthman behavior. I find myself wondering what their angle is, what they want.
Deciding to not waste another moment listening to frivolous brownnosing, I steeple my fingers in front of me and ask, “What is it you want?”
The Urthmen look at each other, and then at me. Clearing his throat, Fred says, “The King has sent us here because he’d like to discuss a peace treaty. He believes there is plenty of room for us to coexist, that there’s no need for fighting to continue.”
I want to shout in their creepy faces, “Are you for real? Do I have the word gullible stamped on my forehead?” But I don’t. I breathe deeply and attempt to rein in a number of urges that summon. A laugh does escape me, though. It is a bitter, mirthless sound. “Do you honestly expect me to believe King Leon wants peace, that’s he’s just going to leave us alone after he lost half his army?”
The Urthmen, both wearing as close to shocked expressions as their overly tight skin will allow, jerk back as if I’ve physically lashed out at them.
“My lady, the King has plenty of Urthmen to regrow his army. The population of Kildare is more than one million. But he doesn’t want that. He desires peace.”
Saccharine and oozing with sincerity that is nauseating, and in my opinion, duplicitous, I make a conscious effort not to roll my eyes and groan. Fred and Julian are working hard to sell the idea of goodwill between species that have warred for centuries. Their efforts are laughable.
Swallowing the chuckle that’s lodged itself in my throat, I play along. “What does King Leon suggest? How does he propose we proceed?”
“He would like you to come to Kildare and meet with him personally to discuss a peace treaty,” Julian says. His thin lips stretch into a smile that, while intended to be pleasant, is repulsive at best.
The farce has continued long enough. I’ve reached my threshold for peac
e treaty nonsense for the day; my temper is at a boiling point.
“Do you think we’re stupid?” Sully erupts before I do. “Do you think we’d let our leader walk into what is undoubtedly a trap?” He leans in, ferocity in his gaze I’ve never seen off the battlefield.
Fred and Julian shrink back. “It isn’t a trap. The King just wants to talk with Azlyn,” Fred says, a faint tremor in is voice.
“Tell your King it’s never going to happen. Or better yet, maybe we’ll just send your heads back to him as an answer.” Sully draws his blade.
Fred recoils and Julian flinches. Their shoulders curl forward and they lower their heads as if bracing for attack. “Please,” Fred pleads. “We’re not the same Urthmen you’ve been fighting. The Urthmen of Kildare are civilized.”
Sully withdraws only a fraction of an inch.
Julian looks from him to me, fright in his inhuman black eyes. “It’s true. The towns you’ve happened upon have been filled with savages. The ones who roam these parts are no better than animals. We, in Kildare, are not like that. We are educated. We live in a society where there is order, rules, and restraint.” He swallows hard and glances at Sully again. “The King wants the whole planet to become like Kildare, to bring every city together as one. He believes that a treaty with you would be a positive step in that direction.”
What he’s saying, at its core, is everything a human being could realistically ask for at this point. Eloquent and poised, both Julian and Fred certainly exude a different air than any other Urthman I’ve ever come in contact with, with the exception of the two soldiers who were here weeks ago. What they want, as improbable and impossible as it sounds, is ideal. No more fighting. No more worrying. Just an end to hostilities. The idea being presented to us is exceptional. Experience has taught me, however, that if a situation seems too good to be true, it often is.
“If King Leon wants peace, why did he send his army to attack us?” I ask, the chink in their peace chain so glaring obvious it might as well be ringed in a neon color.
Looking at his long, slender hands as he wrings them nervously, Fred says quietly, “Well, you did overtake Cassowary, the only city outside Kildare that was run directly by him.”
“So he didn’t order his troops here? He doesn’t speak for all Urthmen? Is he not the one true leader?” Questions fire from me like bullets. “He kept human slaves here and now he wants peace with the very same people he enslaved? I find that too hard to believe.”
Julian, absorbing the brunt of their impact, shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “King Leon is our leader, but as I said, most of the land beyond Kildare is overrun with uncivilized Urthmen. We are working to change that. If we could work together—”
“Wait,” I hold up a hand and interrupt him mid-sentence. “You propose that we help you enlighten your barbaric brethren so that we can, what, strengthen the King’s rule?” The notion is absurd. “Why would we ever agree to that?”
“My lady, King Leon wants what you want. We all want the same thing. We want an end to the fighting. We want peace,” Fred says softly.
Closing my eyes, I rub my temples. Several moments pass before I say, “Tell your king I’ll think about it.”
Both Urthmen nod appreciatively. Julian pulls a rolled piece of parchment from an inner pocket of his suit. He hands it to me. “Should you decide to come, my lady, you’ll need this map. Follow it and it will lead you straight to Kildare.”
“Avery, what’re you talking about? You can’t be serious! You’re not going to meet with King Leon!” Sully protests, but I do not indulge him in a discussion or argument. Not in front of Fred and Julian. Instead, I offer to walk them to the gate.
Standing, I sweep my hand toward the door. “Fred, Julian, I’ll show you both out.”
The Urthmen rise and nod their heads courteously. We walk together in silence to the seam in the wall beyond which their car waits.
Fred turns before the gate is fully opened. He extends a hand to me. I examine his hand then his face then his hand again. I’m not sure what he wants me to do so I mirror his act and do what he’s doing. Surprisingly, he wraps his fingers around mine. Part of me wants to retract my hand and find the first building with running water to wash. I stop myself though and awkwardly allow him to place a small kiss on the top of my hand. “My lady, it has been an honor to meet you. I hope to see you in Kildare soon. There, you will find out what a great leader King Leon is.” Julian does the same and both men back away from me until they reach their vehicle.
“As I said, I’ll consider meeting with your king,” I repeat my earlier comment.
They climb inside their car, and I watch as they drive off, their tires kicking up blackened soot—the charred remains of more than half of King Leon’s army. The irony of the moment is not lost on me as I turn to find Sully with his fists planted on his hips.
“If you have something to say, you might as well say it now.” I throw my hands in the air and allow them to slap against my thighs when they fall.
Sully’s lips press to a hard line. He closes his eyes and expels air from his nose. When he opens them, his gaze softens somewhat. “Why would you tell them you’ll consider a meeting with King Leon?”
“Because I am considering a meeting with King Leon,” I shrug and answer.
Reddening from the neck up, Sully’s eyes widen. “What? No! You can’t! You know it’s a trap!”
“Yes, I do. And I also know it’s true that the only structured government is in Kildare, and so is the only organized military.”
“Okay.” Sully waits for me to complete my thought.
“If we could infiltrate Kildare and destroy it then we could change everything. The other towns aren’t united. They’re just random groups of uncivilized Urthmen without military backing. If the King’s army were out of the picture, we could move from place to place, taking down whatever random Urthmen camp we come across with ease. They’d never even know we’re coming.”
Sully pinches the bridge of his nose and looks perplexed. “Avery, what’re you talking about? You’re not making sense.”
I realize my brain is thinking faster than my mouth is capable of forming words. I continue to try to explain in spite of the disconnection between my brain and my mouth. “I’m talking about taking the hydromic nuclear weapon, driving into the center of Kildare and blowing it off the face of the earth,” I say and envision the island city I’ve never seen going up in flames, the entire Urthmen regime burning along with it.
His features smooth, and fear replaces the tension carved in his face. “If you’re talking about sacrificing yourself, I can’t—” he starts but his voice falters.
Softening my tone, I say, “I’m not talking about sacrificing myself. I’m talking about planting a bomb in the heart of their city—the nuclear weapon we found in the arsenal in Castlerock—and getting the heck out of there before it detonates.”
“And what if it’s a trap and they capture you? What then?”
“Then I’ll blow it. I’ll do what needs to be done.” I do not dare look into his eyes as the words fall from my lips. I can’t. I don’t want to see the emotion swirling in their depths. I know how I’d feel if he told me there was a chance he’d forfeit his life. “You can make a remote detonator that I can bring with me,” I suggest
Sully shakes his head. “No, I can’t let you do that! I can’t lose you.” Panic spikes his words. “I can’t! I love you. Please think about what you’re saying, about me, about June.”
My heart races so quickly I begin to feel lightheaded. Hot tears sting the backs of my eyelids. I reach out to him and place a trembling hand on his forearm. “Sully, please,” I say gently. “I don’t want to hurt you, or June, but if I have to give my life to save the human race, I will.”
Pulling me close, I hear the frantic beat of Sully’s heart echoing in my ear. “Please, Avery.” Though his voice is little more than a hoarse whisper, it resonates through my entire being. The problem is, he k
nows I’m right. He knows that if this could happen, if we could detonate the weapon we found in Castlerock one way or another, we would have a real chance at ending the Urthmen reign once and for all.
“I have to try,” I whisper against his solid chest.
“I’m coming with you, of course.” His arms are hoops of steel that tighten around my shoulders.
“No, you can’t.” I pull away and place enough distance between us so that I can look at him. “I need you here, to lead the people of Cassowary, to take care of June.”
“No, Avery. No.” He draws me close again. I feel his body shiver against mine. “We have to be together.”
Emotion wells in my throat and temporarily strangles me. I manage to choke out words. “You have no choice. I have to try.” Tears blur my vision, gathering in the corners of my eyes and spilling over my lashes. Slowly, I release him and make my way back to my house. Bypassing June after I march up the staircase, I step out onto the balcony I’ve used as a platform to address the residents of Cassowary.
As soon as just one person in the square catches sight of me, it’s only a matter of time before the space fills. I wait as a substantial crowd amasses in anticipation of an announcement. I pause a long moment, knowing fully that both June and Sully are behind me, and not trusting that my voice will hold. Swallowing against the lump that has gathered there, I begin. “I am leaving Cassowary.” My words quiet the growing group. “I’m going to the heart of enemy territory to meet with King Leon.” Only the swish and rustle of dried leaves stirring in the breeze challenges the utter silence that has befallen the people before me. “I might not return.” My voice cracks. I feel my sister’s gaze boring into my back along with Sully’s. Clearing my throat I press on. “I need help, but would never ask a sacrifice so great of any of you. If any among you wish to volunteer, I’d be grateful.”
The Rise of Azlyn (Book 4): Planet Urth, no. 4 Page 19