The Captive Kingdom

by Jennifer A. Nielsen

  Only one secret mattered at the moment. Trea said that Darius had never seen the contents of that box. But it didn’t mean he was ignorant of the truth about himself. I was desperate to ask, but to ask would be to reveal it.

  So instead, I said, “You’re not the same Darius as always.”

  “I’m the person I’ve had to become out here. You wouldn’t understand what it does to a person to be on their own.”

  I tilted my head, unsure of what to say to him. Had he forgotten my years as Sage?

  Rather than draw the conversation in that direction, I asked, “How did you come to be here?”

  He shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I had supper one evening with Father and Mother, then felt sleepy so I went to my room to lie on the bed. That’s the last I remember until I awoke on a ship. Trea was there and told me I had been sent away for my own protection. I asked what exactly she was protecting me from, but she only said that the regent, Bevin Conner, had ordered her to watch over me until it was safe to return home. How well did you know Bevin Conner?”

  I snorted, loud enough to communicate my feelings there. “Better than I wish I did.”

  Darius didn’t bother asking how I knew him, which was good considering that I could fill an entire book with that explanation. Instead, he added, “All I know is that we ended up here.”

  “Do the people here know who you are?”

  “Yes. Although I have no authority here, I was given this home, rather than one of the thin wooden huts where most of the people live. Bellanders are good and kind, preferring the simple, isolated life. We’ve been happy here, though every day for almost two years, I’ve waited for news from home, permission to return. Eventually, I thought something horrible must have happened, and that it might never be safe to return.”

  My eyes moistened. “Something horrible did happen, Darius. Our parents —”

  He cut me off with a sharper tone than before. “When I last saw Mother and Father, they were both alive and well. How were they when you last saw them?”

  I hesitated, anticipating where this conversation was going. “They were already gone when I returned to the palace. In fact, I only returned because they were gone. I thought you were too.”

  “When the Prozarians arrived on our shores last month, they claimed to have come as friends. I welcomed them as such, and at supper one evening, I was foolish enough to ask if they had any news of Carthya. Oh, they did. Your name was well known to them.”

  “In what way?”

  “You’d recently won a war, I understand, one that nobody had thought possible to win.”

  “Carthya is at peace now with the countries that surround us. And we hope to remain at peace.”

  “Thanks to you, that peace is now threatened. Earlier tonight, Captain Strick forced me into an agreement that I did not want to make.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What is the agreement?”

  “Before she left to find you, we had negotiated a simple agreement: They promised to help me return to Carthya, and to regain the throne that should be mine.”

  “In exchange for what?”

  “The second lens for something they call the Devil’s Scope.”

  I threw out a hand. “Why would you agree to that? If you wanted to return to Carthya, just get on a boat and come home!”

  “Don’t you think I’ve wanted to do that? Conner’s instructions were to wait here where it was safe, and to protect the second lens. But he’s dead now, thanks to you. My negotiated agreement with the captain is broken, also thanks to you. Now I am taking control again. I will give the captain the second lens, then claim my throne, and try my best to rule under these new agreements, despite everything you’ve done.”

  “What are the terms of the new agreement?”

  He sighed. “Carthya now must also pay the Prozarians a tribute each year, a tax. But we retain our freedom, our right to rule ourselves as we please.”

  “Absolutely not. I will not allow it.”

  Darius’s eyes flashed with anger. “That’s not your decision anymore. I am the rightful king of Carthya. You need to step down.”

  “There are still so many questions —”

  He raised his voice. “I am the older son. You do not get to choose whether to step down; you will do it because you are not the true king. The throne is mine, and has always been mine. I was only offering you the opportunity to walk away with some dignity.”

  “When have I ever cared about dignity? I have questions.”

  “Answer my question first. Were you involved in any way with the deaths of our parents?”

  My heart crashed against my chest. “What?” Even the mention of such a crime ripped through me. “You know I never could … never would …”

  “I know you were angry when Father asked you to remain in Avenia, posing as an orphan boy.”

  “Angry? No, Darius, it hurt me, to see that he had chosen you….” I stopped there, choking on my own words, recalling my thoughts that had led me here. My father had chosen me, keeping Darius at the castle where the risk was higher.

  In my silence, Darius leaned forward. “Until the Prozarians came, I didn’t know our parents had died. I thought I was in hiding, just as you were in hiding, with Conner as my protector. Then I heard you’d become king, and why.” His tone sharpened. “Captain Strick made me an offer in exchange for the second lens. She would bring you here to answer for any crimes against our parents. Then I would return to Carthya and use the results of your trial to get the people on my side.”

  I began pacing, trying to work out the storm of emotions inside me. “Darius, this is a trick, an attempt to get control of Carthya, to create a wedge between us!”

  “You did this to us! Do you think I want to believe something so horrible about my own brother, my own flesh and blood?”

  “After all our history, why would you believe her and not me?”

  “Because there is evidence!” Darius brushed at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I will make you this offer tonight and only tonight. If you give me the throne, confess your crime, and agree to a permanent exile from Carthya, I will try to make them understand no trial is necessary.”

  “Exile? Darius, how can you talk like this? This is not you, this is not how we ever were!”

  With a cry, Trea darted into the back room. “There is trouble outside. Stay in here.”

  I rushed to the door in time to see Mott run out. Whatever the trouble was, I worried about Mott attempting to manage it on his own, so I returned to where Darius had left his sword on the table and ran out the door with it.

  Mott was already standing in front of the home, his sword outstretched against five Prozarians who were equally armed. Without realizing I was there, he yelled, “You will not take Jaron!”

  “There he is now.” A red-haired man near the front aimed his sword at me. He was the one who had thrown Erick’s body overboard, and he clearly remembered it too, for he said, “I won’t be so kind with your remains.”

  I redoubled my grip on Darius’s sword and charged directly at him. He struck with greater force than I’d expected, and I fell back a few steps. At my left, Mott began fighting two men together, but he quickly received a long cut on his forearm, and the remaining two were waiting for an opportunity to leave their mark.

  I set my feet more squarely against the red-haired man ahead of me, ducking as he took a second swing, and elbowing him hard enough in the thigh to force him back. His leg folded slightly, allowing me to rotate, striking at a Prozarian raising his sword at Mott’s back. In that same rotation, I was about to strike the red-haired man, when he dropped his sword and collapsed to his knees.

  I angled my weapon against his neck. “End this if you want to live.”

  He immediately shouted to his companions, “Lower your weapons!” They hesitated, and with a sharper press of my blade at his side, he added, “Do it!”

  Swords clattered to the ground. I told them, “Run away now, while you
still can.”

  The red-haired man stood again, but his smile poked at my temper. He said, “You think defeating us means anything? We were only the distraction.”

  “Run,” I hissed.

  After they were gone, Trea ran outside and wrapped Mott’s uninjured arm over her shoulder, propping him up to walk him back inside the house.

  Except that she had to push past Darius, who was still standing in the doorway. I walked back to him and threw his sword at his feet.

  “Why didn’t you help me?” I scowled. “You were here, you saw it!”

  “Why did you fight?” he countered. “When the captain finds out, do you know how angry she’ll be?”

  “I make people angry all the time. And if doing what’s right makes someone angry with me, then may I cause rage and fury wherever I go.”

  He frowned. “Trust me, Jaron. You do.”

  I waved my hand around us. “How long has Belland been your home? You owe something to these people.”

  “No, Belland is my prison. They are prisoners here, just as I am. You want me to save them? Well, I have. Until I agreed to give the Prozarians the second lens, they were killing one person here after another. I saved these people, just as I will save Carthya!”

  “Explain how enslaving anyone sets them free.”

  “Because they get to live — isn’t that what you want? And they are not enslaved. Carthya will pay its tax to the Prozarians, and they will leave us alone.”

  I gestured to where the fight had just taken place. “Is that what it looks like to be left alone?”

  “All they ask is that we keep our agreements and obey their rules.”

  I snorted. “That will never be me.”

  “I know that.” Darius’s voice had become notably sadder. “They know it too. I’m truly sorry for what’s about to happen. I wish this wasn’t necessary.”

  Then, with the snap of twigs beneath someone’s foot behind me, I understood what Darius meant. The red-haired man had said they were only distractions. The five Prozarians had not come to take me; they had come to lure me out of the house. And Darius must have known it.

  I turned in time to see Wilta step from behind the trees. Her eyes were wet with tears and the sleeve of her dress was ripped. “I swear I didn’t tell them anything.”

  I nodded back at her, even as Captain Strick emerged from behind the trees with the same crewmen who had been with her on the ship, and Roden behind them all, holding a torch.

  The captain said, “I let you go earlier tonight only because I knew where I’d find you again.”

  I looked at Wilta. “You must have told her. Nobody else knew I’d be here tonight.”

  “It wasn’t her.” The captain smiled up at Darius. “You promised to give me answers by morning, and you kept your promise. How did you know that your brother would come here?”

  Darius glanced over at me. “I know him.”

  “Apparently better than I know you.” My gut twisted in anticipation of whatever the captain might do to me next, but that was nothing compared to the wounds Darius had just inflicted. I continued to stare at him, hurt, angry, disappointed. I was flooded with so many emotions, I wished it were possible to feel nothing at all.

  “This is your last chance,” Darius said. “Give me the throne.”

  “As you are now, I will never allow you a minute upon the Carthyan throne.”

  “Then I already know you are guilty. You killed to take the throne, and you must die to surrender it.”

  Strick nodded at her soldiers. “Take him.”

  Roden stepped forward with the others, and our eyes locked in a steady glare as they searched me for weapons and bound my hands. Finally, I asked him, “Was that a trap, to lure me onto the ship?”

  He only frowned and said, “I warned you that I would interfere with your plans. And I have.”

  At first, the imprisonment hadn’t been so bad. The single cell was at the far end of a larger underground room, which kept it at a manageable temperature, and a quick inspection showed no sign of rats. The worst news was that in addition to my lost sword, the few weapons I’d had before were also gone, again, and there was nothing I could do about any of it. Exhausted as I was, I had lain on the wood bunk in the corner of the cell and immediately fallen asleep.

  It was light outside when I awoke, and I sat up, expecting to be greeted by someone ready to threaten me, or curse me, or with some luck, feed me. But nothing happened, no one entered, and after a while, I began to wonder if I’d been forgotten entirely.

  Which meant that hours later, I was already at the edge of my temper when two men entered the cell room and walked down the carved rock steps to where I was being held. The first man who entered was tall and narrow, and I stood to prepare for whatever trouble he might bring, but was surprised to recognize the second, wider man to come through the door. “Lump! I hoped to see you again.”

  His forehead wrinkled, suspicious. “Why?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? You never told me your real name.”

  “We’re not here for that.” His thick hands curled into fists.

  “Ah. The last time I saw you, the captain wouldn’t let you harm me.” I clicked my tongue. “May I assume those orders have changed?”

  He grinned. “That is correct.”

  Although we were still separated by bars, I backed up. “I’m changing those orders again. You will not touch me, and you will tell me where Amarinda is being held. As a reward for your help, I’ll leave you alive when I conquer Belland.”

  “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “I considered the possibility. Prove me wrong and help me. Please, Lump.”

  “Why would I help you?” His voice grew colder. “I’ve been waiting for this since the moment you escaped the Shadow Tide.”

  “Stand back farther from the door,” the narrow man ordered.

  I remained exactly where I was. I’d been through this often enough to know that things never ended well for me, whether I cooperated or not.

  The narrow man unlocked my cell door, but Lump was the first to push through it. He grabbed me and speared a fist into my gut.

  I remained crumpled over until I found my breath again, then straightened up, only to be on the receiving end of another swipe to my jaw that did send me to the ground, where I stayed. Lump didn’t seem like the kicking type, so it seemed safer down here.

  “You’d better give me a good meal after this,” I said. “If not, then go away.”

  Now the narrow man entered the cell, almost seeming to carry his shadow with him. I immediately understood why. As physically intimidating as Lump was, this man was his very opposite: ghostly pale, thin and willowy, and controlled enough to hold his body together in a tight straight line. Round glasses distorted his long face, and not in a good way. They shrank his eyes into cold, almost lifeless, beads.

  “You must be named Mercy,” I said. “Were your parents great believers in irony?”

  He didn’t flinch, or blink, or show the slightest hint of any emotion whatsoever.

  “I know this is what you do,” he replied. “You believe if you can make someone angry, it will disrupt their plans. That won’t work with me.”

  “It doesn’t work with Lump either.” I frowned over at him, full of pity. “Mostly because he can’t understand half my insults.”

  It turned out Lump was a kicker, after all. I regretted not knowing that before remaining on the ground.

  “We are here for answers,” Mercy said. “Tell us where the Devil’s Scope is.”

  “Personally, I think any object with such a name should be avoided. Perhaps if it were called the Dessert Scope, or the Happiness Scope —”

  Lump kicked me again, harder this time, and near the injury in my leg. Once I regained my breath, I’d have to get out of reach from his boots.

  Mercy continued as if I had not spoken. “Give us the scope now and make this easier on yourself.”

  I still hadn’t fully recovere
d from the last kick, but I said, “Actually, you should release me and make things easier on that scope. I’m counting each hit you give to me. Will that pretty glass lens be able to take the same number of hits?”

  Mercy’s eyes flashed, the first sign that he had human emotions. “Refuse to give me the answers I want, and we’ll move on to torture.”

  “Refuse to release me, and I will torture that scope.”

  Now his face twisted. “What does that mean, that you’ll torture the scope?”

  I made myself stand again, though I was certain I’d regret it. “I can do this all day. Anything you do to me, I will make sure it is done to that scope and its lens. But first, I will destroy your entire fleet, force all Prozarians to scatter from this land like the cowards you are, and ensure that whenever you even think my name in the future, you will shudder and curse my existence.” I looked over at Lump. “Though in all fairness, I planned to do all of that even before you hit me.”

  Lump rewarded my speech with a fist to my eye, which would likely leave it bruised and a little swollen. It hurt, but it wouldn’t change my threats. I could accomplish everything I wanted with only one good eye.

  I staggered forward, crashing hard into Mercy and wrapping my arms around his waist to keep from falling. He brushed me off as one might an eager dog, but I somehow remained on my feet.

  “It doesn’t work to hurt him. He only gets meaner,” Roden said, walking down the steps to enter the prison room. “If he hasn’t talked yet, anything you do will make him more determined not to speak to you.”

  “He’s speaking plenty,” Lump said. “That’s the problem.”

  “Yes, but I’m finished speaking with you two, so you’re dismissed.” I turned to Roden. “Get them out of here, and then you and I can talk.”

  “The captain wants to see you both at once,” Roden said. “The pirates attacked a group of Prozarians last night, and she wants you to confine them to their ship from now on.”

  Mercy shook his head. “Our orders were to remain here until he gives us answers.”