The Captive Kingdom

by Jennifer A. Nielsen

  “I have a few questions of my own that you might be able to answer,” I said. “How can Lump be so big and still hit like a kitten?”

  Lump started forward but Mercy put an arm in front of him, holding him back.

  “Mercy, if you tell me his name, I’ll promise not to make fun of you when you’re not looking.”

  This time, they both started forward, but Roden said, “The captain gave you new orders! I won’t take the blame if she finds out you ignored them.”

  Mercy obeyed only after a long glare at Roden, but Lump followed him up the stairs without a word.

  Roden waited until they were gone, then said, “Those are her top enforcers. You shouldn’t have made them angry.”

  “They shouldn’t have made me angry.”

  Roden sighed, reached into his pocket, and pulled out some bread, which he pushed through the bars toward me. I took it and mumbled a thanks.

  He only shrugged. “You’ll need it today.” Silence followed, then he added, “I heard your leg is infected.”

  “If it gets worse, I won’t be able to fight on it.” I paused, then added, “I’ve seen you staring at Wilta. Do you like her?”

  He shuffled his feet. “She’s very pretty.”

  “Do you like her?” He didn’t answer, so I said, “Just be careful around her.”

  “Fine advice coming from someone who hasn’t been careful a day in his life.” He gestured at my leg again. “The Prozarians took all the medicines from Belland. Maybe Tobias will have something to help.”

  For some reason, that irritated me. “You’re worried about my leg? After what you just saw in here, why should my leg matter to you now?”

  He shrugged. “Because I still have hope for you. More than for myself even. I would consider myself lucky to be on your side of the bars rather than on mine.”

  “If you’re convinced of that, change places with me.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” Roden said. “I just wanted you to understand that in my own way, I’m as imprisoned as you are.”

  My tone softened. “Yes, I know.”

  “I’ve asked Darius if he can help me, and he promised to try. He’ll be the king now.”

  “I am still your king, Roden. And maybe I wasn’t always the friend you wanted, but I tried to be the king you needed.”

  He frowned at me. “I never should have said those things I did in your throne room. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it.”

  “Maybe you meant some of it.”

  “Maybe.” He frowned again. “But it’s too late. I cannot help you anymore. I cannot help myself. This may be all that I can do for you.”

  He gave a low whistle, and on cue, two Bellanders entered, leading Imogen down the stairs, her wrists tied in rope. I rushed to the bars, eager to see her but wishing we could have met anywhere else. She eyed me with pity, even as I looked at her with a growing panic. If Roden thought my spirits would be lifted by seeing the girl I loved inside a prison cell, he was deeply mistaken.

  My cell door had remained open, but once Imogen was inside, Roden locked it, then said, “Remember, we’re only allowing you to see him because you promised to talk him back to his senses.”

  Imogen straightened her spine. “You made a coward’s choice, Roden. Leave us alone, or Jaron and I won’t say a word.”

  His expression fell, and his eyes quickly shifted to me. “Listen to her, Jaron. She’s the only one you ever listen to.”

  After everyone had left, I immediately began untying Imogen’s wrists. “Did they hurt you in any way?”

  “No, but the captain questioned me, mostly about you. Why is she so interested in understanding you?”

  “I don’t know. What answers did you give?”

  “There weren’t many I could give, since you share so little with me.”

  I finished unwinding the rope, then took her hands in mine, hoping things were not too broken between us. “That’s the very reason I share so little.”

  Imogen let a beat pass. “No, Jaron, that’s not the reason.”

  There was so much I wanted to tell her, the truths about me and my history, secrets that had been tucked into the deepest parts of my heart. But she was right, as always. It terrified me to think of telling her too much, of revealing something that might create a barrier between us, one she could not cross.

  For now, I said, “Ask me anything.”

  “I have only one question. What do you need me to do?”

  “Tell me everything you’ve learned. Is there any news of Amarinda?”

  Her face fell. “I was hoping you’d have news for me.”

  “Not yet. But I do believe she’s still alive, and safe. They’ll bring her out at some point when they feel Darius needs to be controlled. Were you able to find Tobias and Fink?”

  “I got there too late. They’d already been forced to separate, so I only found Fink. He was on the north end of Belland.” She leaned in closer to me and whispered, “The scope and lens are in my bag, hidden not far from here. I didn’t want to risk Fink being caught with it.”

  “Does anyone know?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I was relieved to hear that Fink was still safe, but I was equally concerned for Tobias. Fink had spent most of his young life surviving on his own. Tobias hadn’t.

  Imogen touched my face, bringing my attention back to her. “Talk to me, Jaron, please. I know you’re carrying something big inside you. Don’t you understand that I feel the weight of it too?”

  Her words hung in the air as she continued staring at me. Finally, I broke. “Darius wants the throne.”

  “Oh. What did you tell him?”

  “What can I tell him? He is the elder brother.”

  Imogen drew in a slow breath. “What if he’s not?”

  Based on Imogen’s expression, I was certain that what she was about to say, and the secret I had promised Trea to keep, were the very same.

  “He is my brother, Imogen.” I’d spent half my time in this cell debating how to manage what I now knew about Darius. This was not a decision I had come to lightly, but I had made my decision.

  She led me to the slab of wood where I’d slept the night before and sat beside me. “I haven’t stopped thinking about Trea since we saw her last night. I told you that I knew her a little when I was at Farthenwood. Every evening at seven, I used to bring a cup of tea to Conner in his office. One evening, shortly before you came to Farthenwood, I started to enter his office, but I heard raised voices. Conner finally shouted that his orders would be obeyed or the consequences would be severe. Seconds later, Trea came from the office, crying. I had hidden around the corner so neither of them saw me, and I never did see her again until now.”

  “Did you hear what the orders were?”

  Imogen pressed her lips together, clearly aware of how difficult this conversation was for me. “He told her to take the boy away. That didn’t mean anything to me then, but it does now. Obviously, he was talking about Darius.”

  “Yes, but what does it matter?”

  Imogen took my hands in hers. “You know I’ve been reading Conner’s journal. He wanted his possessions distributed among his heirs, correct?”

  “Yes, but he has no heirs.”

  Imogen took a few measured breaths. “What if he did? Jaron, I don’t know who Darius’s mother was, but I do believe —”

  “No!” I stood and backed away from her, horrified by her suggestion. “You are pulling these ideas from thin air. I will not discuss something that would strip Darius of his identity. He is the rightful king of Carthya!”

  “Jaron, he’s not! Conner said —”

  “It doesn’t matter! If his adoption means he is not my brother, then Fink is not my brother, and I am once again without a family! I don’t care about tradition. I don’t care about his origins.”

  “You should care! Do you know why the Prozarians brought you here? They plan to kill you today.”

  “Only if I’m co
nvicted at the trial —”

  “Which you will be.”

  “And only if I can’t make Darius remember who he was before coming here! Maybe he is adopted, but none of that matters to me!”

  She lowered her voice. “Would it matter if you knew who his father really is?”

  A heavy silence followed, when all I could hear was my heart slamming against my chest. “Do not say it.”

  “Conner set his plan in motion to find a false prince because he believed war was coming. He killed your parents and then began searching for someone he could put on the throne — anyone the people would accept as you. He sent Darius here, out of harm’s way. We know he planned to take control of the throne through the false prince. What if he planned to eventually dispose of the false prince, then bring Darius back to the throne?” She drew in a slow breath. “Jaron, the night that Conner sent Trea away, I only heard his last words to her: ‘my son.’”

  “No, Imogen.”

  “I believe that Darius’s father is Bevin Conner.”

  I sat with Imogen’s suggestion for several minutes, unable to speak, or really, to fully absorb the weight of the consequences if she was right.

  There were many things I owed to Conner. Because of him, I had returned to the throne and claimed my identity again. Because of him, I had Imogen in my life, and Mott and Tobias, and Roden. I was still alive thanks to him, for near the end of the war, he had sacrificed himself to save me.

  Yet for all that, I could never forget the fact that he had killed my parents, and Latamer, and committed any number of other crimes in his quest for power and control. Despite the good that he had brought into my life, it was always clear in my mind that he was a villain and that his fate was what he had deserved.

  Was he also Darius’s father?

  Imogen and I said little more about that possibility, even as the afternoon sun made our cell uncomfortably warm. I told her about my lost sword, listened to her thoughts, and asked her forgiveness once again for putting her in so much jeopardy.

  Eventually, I reclined against the wall with Imogen in my arms, letting thoughts flow through my mind like drifting waves. Some crashed harder against my conscience than others, but nothing could make them stop.

  I was almost grateful for the interruption when the door to our prison cell opened, long enough for one of the Prozarian vigils to call down to me, “Prepare yourself, if you can. Your trial will begin in fifteen minutes.”

  The instant he left, I turned to Imogen. “You need to leave.”

  Her head tilted. “You have a way out?”

  With a sly grin, I withdrew the key to the cell door from my jerkin. That had been the reason for crashing into Mercy so clumsily. Perhaps I had sacrificed my pride to cling to him in such a pathetic way, but that’s how long it had taken me to get the key from his pocket.

  I pointed deeper within this underground room, which significantly narrowed beyond this cell. “Hide there, as far into the shadows as you can get.”

  “That’s hardly an escape.”

  “It will be.” I opened the cell door, then kissed her before nodding in the direction I wanted her to go. “Hurry, Imogen. They’ll be back any moment.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  “I have to be at that trial.”

  She threw out her arms. “Why would you do that? You know how it will end!”

  “No, I don’t know. If I can still change things with Darius, I have to try.”

  “Didn’t you hear anything I said to you?”

  “I heard all of it. That’s why I have to help him now, and I won’t be able to do that if I escape with you. Will you try to find everyone you can, and gather them together where it’s safe? I’m going to force the Prozarians to surrender, and we need everyone’s help.”

  She bit her lip and looked as though there was something more she wanted to say, but instead she nodded and ducked into the shadows.

  Just in time too, for no sooner did she slip behind an outcrop of rock than the door at the other end of the room opened again. Lump entered, pausing at the entrance as though bracing himself for my insults. When none came, he began, “It is time for —” He stopped and walked the rest of the way down the stairs. “Where’s the girl?”

  I looked around me. “I see no one here but you and me.”

  “There was a girl, I saw her.”

  “Oh, her. Yes, well, she already escaped.”

  “How?”

  I lifted Mercy’s keys. “These.”

  Lump advanced, his eyes increasingly narrowing with each step he took. “Give those to me.”

  “Where would be the fun in that?” Instead, I hurled the keys through the bars into the opposite corner of the room from where Imogen was hiding. He darted for them and I pushed open the cell door, which I’d kept unlocked, and raced for the stairs.

  Lump doubled back to chase me, but I scaled the steps in half the time he did, exited the prison room door … and crashed straight into Mercy. Only this time, without intending to. He grabbed one arm and I used the other to get in a punch to his gut. That forced him to release me, but I’d no sooner done that than Lump emerged and wrestled me down from behind.

  “You’ll pay for that,” Mercy said, still half-doubled over.

  “Give him to me.” Roden rounded a corner. “Now!”

  Lump still landed a fist against my side before leaving me on the ground. Roden crouched in front of me and said, “What was the point in attempting an escape now? Wouldn’t you assume they had a dozen vigils up here waiting to escort you to the trial?”

  I stared at him. “That’s exactly what I assumed.”

  Now he took a slow breath. “I’ve been thinking about the trial. If you tell the captain where you’ve hidden the scope, you might be able to bargain for your life.”

  “Let me speak to Darius.”

  “They won’t let you do that, and from what I saw last night, that’s the worst thing you could do. But there is someone who wants to speak to you.”

  Whoever it was, if they were brought here by the Prozarians, I had no desire to see them. “I’m busy.”

  Roden stepped aside as Tobias came around the corner from the back of the prison house. His eyes were on me as if trying to communicate answers to the dozens of questions suddenly filling my head.

  Roden seemed to know what Tobias was unable to say. “They found the camp. Tobias sent Fink in one direction and came down to the beach to meet the searchers, to delay them. Fink’s footprints disappeared once he crossed onto rock, but they know he was headed north, and they will pick up his trail again.”

  Which meant they might also find Imogen, who would soon be on her way back to Fink.

  I glanced at Tobias, who gave me a slight, almost imperceptible nod, answering the obvious next question. Aside from the scope and lens, Fink had all the items I had stolen from the captain’s office. That would be too much for him to carry.

  “The Prozarians couldn’t follow a trail paved in gold,” I said. “They’re no threat to Fink.”

  “This is serious!” Roden said. “Why is your only response to tell a joke?”

  I lowered my eyes. I made jokes because I had long ago understood that when I did, people either laughed or became furious, and either way, it pulled them off course. I made jokes because the alternative was to scream as loudly on the outside as I was on the inside. Because I needed to laugh so that I wouldn’t burn with anger at the injustices around me.

  “Belland is a small place. Strick will find what she’s looking for.” Roden’s eyes sharpened. “She will find Fink.”

  My stomach knotted. “She didn’t find him on the Shadow Tide; she won’t find him here. Fink will slip through her fingers like smoke.”

  I hoped.

  Fink wasn’t much like smoke. He was more like that dog that always gets caught upon a single wire in the corner of an open field. I was a little surprised he hadn’t already been found.

  “Fink will be fine, but can
you worry about yourself for a few minutes?” Tobias stepped closer to me. “This trial will only end one way. We have to negotiate with them.”

  “My innocence is not up for negotiation.” I stuck out my jaw. “Take me to the trial.”

  Roden led me out of the village and up the trail that took us directly past Darius’s home. Farther on, we came to a wide, grassy clearing with an easy view of the former volcano that had formed this land. Most of the clearing was so thick with onlookers that I wondered if guests had been brought in from neighboring countries. Surely the population of Belland, even with the Prozarian occupation, could not be so great. Even worse was that as I scanned the faces, none of them seemed friendly. The warnings I’d been given were true: I was already convicted.

  I was brought to the center of the gathering and a chain was wrapped around each wrist, forcing me to hold my arms out wide, away from my body. The chain on my right arm was attached to a sturdy post in the ground, but the chain on my left was attached to a leg of a chair not far away, as if the need for a second chain had been a last-minute decision. Worse still, the chair was currently occupied by Mercy, who looked quite comfortable. The red-haired man I’d fought last night was here as well, glaring daggers at me. He and I were not finished with each other. Several other chairs were in a row beside them, slowly being filled with what I assumed were some of the higher-ranking Prozarians.

  I whispered to Tobias, who stood at my side. “There’s a metal clip inside the lining of my belt. Get it out and put it in my left hand. Don’t let anyone see.”

  “How am I supposed to … oh, all right, but it will be embarrassing.”

  Loudly, Tobias said, “I just realized I might never see you again.” And he closed me into a tight embrace. I felt his fingers fold back the belt, and seconds later he pulled his hand away.

  “You were supposed to save me, not suffocate me,” I told him.

  Tobias stepped back. “You asked me to.” He reached for my hand to shake it but dropped the clip. I put my foot over it and his eyes widened. “How can I get it now?”

  “You can’t. Honestly, Tobias, I don’t ask you for much.”