“That clip won’t make a difference anyway. They claim to have evidence against you. Let me negotiate with them.”
“No.”
More people continued to fill the clearing, the Bellanders being directed toward the left, the Prozarians standing to the right where more shade was available. Mott and Trea entered the clearing ahead of me, hand in hand. Mott’s injured arm was bandaged but otherwise he seemed to be all right. Trea looked terrified, but Mott’s expression was like stone. We locked eyes, but it did me no good. I could not tell what he was thinking. They found places somewhere behind me, among the Bellanders. I wished Mott would have stayed where I could more easily see him. Not because he could do anything for me, but because I was nervous. So many things could go wrong before this was over.
Darius entered the area next and stood beside the stump of a tall tree that had been smoothed and polished as a sort of podium. I stared directly at him while he took great efforts to look anywhere else. The longer I watched him, the more I saw worry lines forming across his brow and the shadows deepening beneath his eyes. He was alone here, much as I often felt in Carthya, only his situation was far worse. Trea watched over him with all the care and affection of a mother, but he had no one else. I had Imogen and Mott and Fink, and friends beyond that. For all that I had lost, he had lost so much more.
“Darius,” I said, getting his attention. “You were always the better brother, the better person. You didn’t deserve this.”
“Tell me the truth now,” he said. “Do you deserve what you will receive here?”
I hesitated to answer, which cost me the opportunity to ever answer him as I wished to. Shouts and cheers rose up from the Prozarians, who parted for Captain Strick to enter. At least forty other Prozarians followed her, but this new group was different than the others. They were not onlookers; these were vigils who took their places around the perimeter, ensuring that nobody would come or go without their permission.
Strick raised her arms high to get the crowd’s attention, which was hardly necessary since everyone had already gone silent with her arrival. Then she said, “Bellanders, you all know that Darius is the rightful king of a country across the sea, a place known as Carthya. It is a land that has been illegally occupied for some time by a younger brother who obtained his throne through deception and dishonor. As part of an agreement with King Darius, we have brought this boy here, to allow the true king to claim what should be his. Darius will soon reign again beneath the hand of the Prozarian Monarch, over the tribute country of Carthya.”
I coughed, loudly, and she stopped to look at me. “Forgive me,” I said. “But you are pronouncing ‘Carthya’ incorrectly, and I can’t stand it any longer. You spend far too much time on the final vowel. Is that typical of all Prozarians?”
Her face reddened, and she said, “Darius, you asked to run this trial. Do you have anything to say?”
Darius turned back to face me, the intense look in his eyes begging for the answer he wanted. “Will you give me the throne, Jaron?”
I stuck out my jaw. “Under your current arrangement with the Prozarians, no, I cannot.”
His face tightened. “We’ve already discussed this.”
“Then let’s discuss how we might bring freedom to these people. If these are your people now, then tell them they have a chance for freedom!”
Tobias had been standing far to my right but he leaned in and whispered, “Jaron, can we focus on saving you first? Then we’ll save everyone else.”
“Get to his crimes!” Strick snapped at Darius.
“You will stay out of this trial!” Darius responded, a rare show of force from him, and he quickly softened. “You swore that I would conduct this trial, and only me.”
Her eyes flashed, but she gestured toward me with her arm. “Then do it.”
Darius hesitated, then said, “Jaron, from what I’m told, you came to the throne less than two weeks after our parents’ deaths. That cannot be a coincidence.”
“It is not. Tell me, Darius, what do you know about Bevin Conner?”
Darius straightened his spine. “I know he was a great man. He sent me here, which saved my life. I have a letter from him that promises me a king’s inheritance one day, and his assurances that he was a great patriot of Carthya.”
Then he probably did not know that Conner was likely his father. And I’d never get him to believe that someone he clearly respected was responsible for our parents’ deaths.
Unaware of the secrets I was holding in my heart, Tobias stepped forward. “Conner was no patriot. He poisoned the king and queen of Carthya.”
“That’s a lie!” Darius turned to face Tobias squarely. “Conner was one of my father’s regents, and a loyal servant.”
“And he was a murderer.”
“Can you prove this?” Darius’s tone felt like a warning, that if Tobias failed to prove his accusation, he would also be in trouble.
Tobias glanced back at me for support, but I shook my head. This was not how I wanted the trial to go.
Darius turned my way as well. “If Conner had committed the murders, surely you would have followed the law and had him executed. Did you?”
I stared back at him. “I did not.”
“I’m also told that he was allowed to escape. How did that happen?”
It was irrelevant how it happened. The greater problem was how the question must have sounded to the audience, as if his escape was my plan all along.
Darius continued, “And later, Conner sacrificed his life to save yours. That doesn’t sound like he was ever anyone’s enemy.”
“He came to my side. As you were once on my side.” I tried a different approach. “Do you remember when I was ten and I challenged the Duke of Mendenwal to a duel? It was in defense of our mother’s name.”
Darius smiled, despite himself. “Of course. You lost the duel.”
“And you later told me that you regretted letting me fight that alone. Fight for me now. You know that I had nothing to do with our parents’ deaths.” He flinched, and I added, “Be my brother again; stand at my side the way I always tried to stand at yours. Darius, I need my brother back in my life, as before.”
Captain Strick stood, holding a paper in her hands. “We have evidence — a letter from Conner himself, detailing Jaron’s involvement in the crimes.”
Tobias immediately darted forward, now with Conner’s journal in his hands. He could only have gotten that from Imogen, so I knew she must be hiding somewhere in the crowd. “This book was written by Conner’s own hand. Compare it with the note.”
Darius walked over to Strick, who rolled her eyes before giving him the paper. He laid it out flat on one half of the journal in Tobias’s hands and studied one page and then the other.
“The handwriting is different,” Darius mumbled. His expression seemed to soften.
“Then someone else wrote that letter for Conner,” Strick said. “A trusted servant perhaps.”
“I was his trusted servant, and I never wrote that letter.”
My head flipped to the side to see Mott emerge from the crowd. Captain Strick shouted, “This man was involved in an attack on Prozarian officers last night! He must be arrested.”
She may have believed her words would turn the crowd against Mott, but most of the Bellanders I saw began nodding at him with respect, and none of the Prozarians seemed to want to take him on unless they were specifically ordered to.
Mott stepped past her and addressed Darius directly. “Before Jaron took the throne, I served Conner every day of my life. I was there when he planned the murders, yours included, or so I thought.” Now he spoke louder. “Listen carefully, all of you. Jaron knew nothing of the murders, and once he did know, his every thought was given to unmasking the conspiracy behind who had done it. Jaron is innocent.”
Darius shrugged, unmoved. “From what I’m told, you are with Jaron every time he goes into battle. Obviously you will want to protect him now.”
“As I have always tried to protect you,” Trea said as she joined Mott and took his hand again. “Darius, I know why you agreed to have Jaron brought here, and I know you believe you have to decide against him, but you don’t. There is a plan that can save these people, but you must find Jaron innocent.”
Darius glanced over at Strick before looking back at me. “And then what? If we go home together, will the people welcome me as their king, or shout me down because they prefer you?”
I locked eyes with him, as if no one else existed but him and me. “Come home, Darius. But come home without a Prozarian weight on your back. I’ll help you.”
He hesitated. “What about Amarinda? Can you save her as well?”
That was a far more complicated question, and he took note of it. “We will find her,” I said.
“Amarinda is waiting for you,” Captain Strick said. “After you find Jaron guilty.”
“What?” If Tobias had been sitting, he would have fallen off his chair. Even on his feet, I worried at his look of alarm. I shook my head at him, warning him to stay quiet.
“I agreed to conduct the trial,” Darius said. “I never agreed to the outcome.”
From his seat, Mercy pulled out a book and widened it to a handwritten page, where even from here I saw Darius’s signature. Mercy said, “You agreed to give us the second lens if we brought Jaron here for trial. If Jaron was found guilty, you agreed to give the Prozarians legal right to carry out his punishment. In exchange for that right, we would deliver Amarinda here to you.”
With greater urgency, I turned back to Darius. “Whatever you decide, they will not send Amarinda to you. They will set new terms, new demands, and force you to give in once again.”
His tone sharpened. “Amarinda is here, somewhere, and then we’ll be married, as was planned from the beginning. I can’t risk her life, and you can’t promise it.”
I drew in a breath. “We should discuss Amarinda in private.”
Darius clenched both fists. “Why? She is alive, she is here…. Is she still the betrothed princess?” His eyes widened in realization. “She is betrothed to the throne, not the prince.” His voice rose in pitch. “Jaron, you didn’t … you haven’t …” Angrily, he grabbed my shoulders.
Tobias pushed between us, forcing Darius back. “It’s not Jaron! Amarinda is betrothed to me now. When we get back to Carthya, she and I have plans to marry.”
Darius’s eyes turned to ice as he looked Tobias over, then with one hand, he shoved him away. “Who are you? You’re no prince. Not a drop of royal blood in you, is there?”
Tobias lowered his head. “No, I am not a prince. But I do love her.”
Darius turned and pointed to Tobias. “I lived for her! I did whatever was necessary to keep myself alive, for her! You are no one, you are nothing. How dare you suggest you could ever be my equal?”
Reflecting the tension in the air, the crowd behind us seemed to be growing more agitated, with some Prozarians already calling out for Darius to pronounce me guilty. Trea rushed forward to speak to him while Mott stood protectively near my side.
Darius ignored Trea and turned his anger toward me. “This arrogant nothing who came to defend you, is he your friend?”
“He is.”
“Then you have chosen him over me. You have robbed me of a throne that should have been mine, and he has robbed me of the girl I’ve expected to marry my entire life. Let the devils have him now. Let the devils have you both!”
He began to leave, but Lump crossed into his path, his message clear. From behind us, Strick said, “You had your trial, Darius. Give us what you promised.”
“Do not give them that lens!” I shouted.
Darius lowered his head, reached into the pocket of his long red coat, and withdrew a lens from a black satin bag. He offered it to Lump, who held it up to the light for a quick examination. Similar to the first disk, this lens could easily be concealed in a person’s hand, though it was thin enough that it could break if not handled carefully. Holding the lens in the palms of both hands, Lump ran it over to Captain Strick. Without a single glance back at me, Darius slinked through the crowd, then folded his arms as he leaned against a nearby tree, almost glowing with anger.
By now, the crowd was calling more openly for a decision from Darius, but he was still glaring at Tobias. To my left, Mercy had leaned back in his chair with a wide smile on his face, drawing pleasure from the discord. Ahead of me, Roden had turned his back to try to settle the growing disputes in the crowd, but no one demanded my attention more than Captain Strick. She faced me with a smug expression of total satisfaction, as though anger and a broken relationship between brothers was the perfect outcome to this trial.
I could make it worse.
I shouted, “People of Belland, we cannot allow these invaders to keep that lens. Help me, and together we will take back your homes. By tomorrow night, you will be a free people!”
A cautious cheer rose up among the Bellanders, one that grew enough that the Prozarians began to look anxious. Strick motioned to Mercy, yelling, “Stop him now!”
I had been waiting the entire trial for Mercy to have a reason to leave that chair.
The instant he moved, I yanked my left arm inward, then crouched down to retrieve the pin. The motion simultaneously pulled Mercy’s chair toward me, hard enough that it swept his feet out from beneath him. With my hands still chained, I grabbed the chair and held it legs out, as a sort of weapon.
“If anyone helps that boy, you will join in his fate!” Strick shouted to the crowd. “Everyone fall to your knees or face the wrath of the Prozarians! Go to your knees now!”
There were twice the number of Prozarians as there were Bellanders, and no pirates were here. Upon the captain’s command, all Prozarians in the audience withdrew their weapons, mostly swords and knives, though I saw a few bows as well. They were only waiting for the orders to move, to strike against the unarmed and defenseless up here.
Mott turned to me, also waiting for orders. “What do you want, Jaron?”
I looked around the area. The Bellanders didn’t have a chance if fighting began. I had friends here in the crowd, but not enough, and I was still in chains.
I answered him, “I want you to leave, Mott. The only reason Strick hasn’t had you captured yet is that I’m too much on her mind. But she will remember you.” He still hesitated, and I added, “Get out of here, protect Trea. Those are my orders.”
Mott dipped his head at me, though he glanced back several times as they left.
Tobias came forward and spoke in a low voice. “Please let me negotiate with the captain. You have no chance otherwise.”
“You’ve given up already?” I frowned at him, genuinely disappointed. “When did you stop believing in me?”
His frown became more pronounced as he replied, “I think you’re in too deep this time.”
I placed the chair on the ground and stood on it, shouting to the Bellanders, “Do as the captain says!” The area quieted and I added, “I promised you freedom tomorrow, and I will keep that promise. But today, we must cooperate.”
As ordered, the crowd fell to their knees, though their feelings of sadness, even abandonment, hung so heavy in the air that I felt the weight of them. I had promised something that I was not yet sure I could provide. If they got their freedom, it was possible I would not be there to see it.
Nearby, Tobias was in conversation with Captain Strick, who turned and motioned for me to step down from the chair, which I did. She faced the crowd and said, “Darius has failed to pass judgment on Jaron. But you just witnessed him attempting to inspire violence among your people. That is surely a crime.”
“No one threw a single fist. Release me, Captain.”
She stiffened her spine. “And you have stolen the Devil’s Scope.”
“We don’t need it anymore.” Mercy had taken the second lens from Strick and held it up against a thin paper with a sketch of the first lens on it. “If my drawing is corr
ect, then the third lens will be found exactly where we thought it would be. We still have time to retrieve it, if we hurry.” He eyed me. “And we no longer need Jaron.”
Tobias leaned over to Strick and said something more to her. She smiled and turned to me. “Your friend just made a suggestion that might save your life.” Her words were followed by a coldness in her expression that sent a chill through me. I knew what Tobias had offered, and I wanted none of it.
I stuck out my jaw. “I will not help you get that third lens.”
Her eyes became focused on someone behind me. “Oh yes, you will.”
I turned too late. Lump’s beefy hands wrapped around my wrists like vises.
I didn’t fight him. There would have been no point in it now. Instead, I twisted around until I locked eyes with Darius, still leaning against the tree, staring through me as if I weren’t even here. All my life, he had defended me — to our parents, to commoners, and to staff at the castle. But I’d never had to rely on him before for my very existence.
Until now.
With Lump and Mercy holding each of my arms, I was half walked and half dragged to stand directly before Captain Strick, who couldn’t wipe the smug anticipation off her face.
Loud enough for the crowd to hear her, she began, “We are benevolent —”
“Benevolent conquerors,” I finished for her. “You don’t want to kill or threaten or wound or maim anyone here, but somehow it’s necessary.”
“Necessary,” she echoed, as if repeating that word somehow made it more important than my accusations. “You are a threat to our plans, to our quest. You are a disruption and a troublemaker.”
I grinned. “Please stop, Captain, you embarrass me with so many compliments.”
Her eyes became murderous. I knew that look too well. “You’ve seen the Great Cave, no doubt.”
It must have been the cave I’d climbed in to escape last night. The one pictured on the first lens.
She continued, “Since arriving on Belland, we have believed the third lens must be in there. We also believe the lens will only be found during high tide. In the past month, we have sent over a dozen people inside to test for the best way to search the cave. Not one of them has come out alive.”
The Captive Kingdom Page 19