The Azureans

by R Gene Curtis

  Goluken. The man in magenta. My fingers run over the tip of the sword I stole from the Sattah guards. I start down the path that leads to Somrusee’s city.

  ✽✽✽

  It’s almost dawn by the time we see the houses. Somrusee approaches a small cottage on the edge of town and knocks softly on the back door.

  A large woman answers the door. I stand behind Somrusee, my hand on the hilt of my sword, my muscles tense and ready.

  “Rusee?” the woman gasps.

  “Yes.”

  In an instant, Somrusee is wrapped inside the woman’s big arms. The embrace swallows Somrusee’s frame whole.

  The woman steps back and tears glisten in her eyes. “I never thought I’d see you again. It’s wonderful, but you must hurry back to Goluken before he notices you’re missing. He won’t take kindly to missing za’an.” She wipes a tear from her eye.

  She thinks Somrusee belongs to Goluken.

  “We’ve escaped,” Somrusee whispers. “We’ve escaped from Wynn, and we’ve escaped from Goluken. He thinks I’m at the castle.”

  The woman looks around nervously. “It won’t take him long to deduce your location. Where else would you run to? Why else would he have arrived in town just yesterday?”

  Goluken is here in town. I swallow hard. He isn’t a man I want to see again.

  “He can’t know we’re here,” I say.

  “He knows you’re here.” The woman scowls at me in the dim light of morning. “He checked everyone’s homes yesterday—mine three times over.”

  If that is true, Buen’s dead. The news shatters my world like a dropped box of glass test tubes. I knew Buen might die, but already? Before we got into the mountain? Buen already gave his life for me, and I’m still struggling to figure out how I’m going to stay alive.

  Light from the sun starts to creep over the mountaintops. “Come in,” the woman says grimly. She eyes me suspiciously. She whispers something in Somrusee’s ear. Somrusee looks at me and smiles.

  “Of course we can,” she says. My heart skips a beat at that look. It isn’t a look a girl would give a brother.

  Still, the woman doesn’t trust me. And probably with good reason. I’m strong and I have a cut in my ear. And my eyes glow. I always forget about that.

  We sit down around a little table. I look around the room, but I don’t see any copper. That doesn’t mean there isn’t any.

  The woman brings out a loaf of bread. Nothing ever tasted so good in my life. I take several bites before I finally recover my desire to talk.

  “Do you know how to get through the mountain portal?” I ask.

  The door to the house slams open before the woman has a chance to respond. Goluken stands on the doorstep.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he shouts. “Who is here?”

  I draw my sword and jump up, knocking my chair backward. The sword is a heavy garrison sword, which puts me at a huge disadvantage against a man of Wynn. Goluken yells something behind him, and two young men join him, both with drawn swords.

  “What is going on here?” Somrusee’s friend demands. “Put the swords down. Goluken, you know it’s against the law to arm your children. They aren’t garrison.”

  “Shut up,” Goluken says. He’s looking at me—I don’t think he’s recognized me in the dim light.

  The two young men step toward me cautiously. I raise my sword carefully, in the stance Buen drilled me on for hours.

  Goluken stops them before they get to me.

  “Wait,” he says. “I know this man.”

  And then he draws his sword. A man of Wynn’s sword. He looks slowly around the room, a smile spreading across his face when he notices Somrusee, crouched underneath the table.

  “My, my,” he says. “Today is my lucky day. I thought something suspicious was going on here, but hiding za’an, conspiring with rebels, it’s beyond all my greatest suspicions.”

  I step forward. Three against one. I don’t have a chance.

  Goluken swings his sword down. Hard. I deflect the blow to the side. My arms ache from the impact, but I step to the side just in time to lift my sword to deflect a blow from one of his sons. They’re fast and well trained. I jump backward onto the table just in time to miss the third swing.

  The three men converge on me. I jump at Goluken; he deflects my sword and his two sons grab me from behind.

  My sword drops to the floor.

  I struggle against the two young men, but they’re as strong as I am. Goluken reaches under the table and pulls out Somrusee. He laughs, a laugh that makes the bread in my stomach churn until all the wheat germ has curdled into lead.

  Goluken takes Somrusee and sends the two young men away with me. Nearly frantic, I try to keep an eye on Goluken, but the two young men tie me to a cart and then urge the horses forward. I’m dragged behind it as Goluken and Somrusee gradually disappear out of sight. I yell and dig my feet into the ground, but I’m no match for two horses. I stumble along, cursing and fighting against the ropes. They are too tight. The sun comes up and beats down on me. And my long day begins.

  The men take me from house to house. I stay tied to the gradually filling cart as they raid each one. Children cry and women are beaten. My skin slowly burns in the sun, and my wrists burn against the rope. Where is Somrusee?

  Late in the day, one of the men decides it’s time to go home. They stop in a grove of trees next to a large house and leave me tied to the cart.

  And so tied to the cart I stay. The sun goes down and it gets dark. This is it. I’m going to be out here all night. Stuck and tied to a cart while Somrusee dies. Mosquitos buzz in my ears. Without hands, there is nothing I can do. They bite me, and my body itches from the sunburn and the bites.

  We made it so far—we escaped from Wynn. We made it all the way through the valley and to the mountains. And now it’s over. I shudder at the prospect of seeing Wynn again, of feeling his cold, slimy touch. But it’s okay. I’ll do it. Gladly. I had the chance to escape last night, but I stayed for Somrusee, and I would make the same choice again today.

  The door to the house opens and the two sons come out and head down the road toward the town. Another man leading a cart going the other way turns the corner just before they leave my sight.

  “Ho there!” one of the sons says. “I didn’t expect to see you again. Didn’t you have a plan to move out?”

  “It didn’t work,” the new man says. “I lost my chance when that mother and baby disappeared under my watch.”

  “The mother who disappeared into the mountains?”

  “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “You know, it’s impossible,” the other son says. “There’s a barrier.”

  I hold my breath to listen to their conversation as they walk away. A mosquito buzzes in my ear and lands on my face. I hate mosquitos.

  “I saw it myself. The woman dropped the baby on the ground and stepped on it. That opened the wall, and she fell into the mountains. I haven’t seen her since.”

  “Looks like you’re stuck a regular guy like us.”

  “You aren’t regular guys. Not with a father like yours.”

  Stepped on him. We didn’t try that. Somrusee!

  I look across the field at the large house. She must be inside that house with Goluken right now. I pull my hands against the ropes. I twist and throw my body weight against the cart. The horses stamp impatiently and the rope cuts my already worn skin. Blood runs down my arms. Minutes go by, but I thrash and kick and pull.

  The pain worsens, and my body starts to fatigue. I can’t do it anymore. I sink down next to the cart, my breath coming in fast bursts. But then I think of waking in the morning. Tied to the cart, ready to be sent back to Wynn. And Somrusee dead. No!

  I find more energy buried deep inside, and I manage to push myself back up and continue my struggle.

  The moon comes out, but it does nothing except show me how badly my hands are bleeding. The pain worsens with each pull agains
t the rope. I try to bite the rope, but my teeth can’t do anything against the strong cords.

  I yell into the night, but no one hears me.

  All is lost.

  All energy gone, I sit on the edge of the cart and weep angrily. My wrists ache. Blood drips off my hands. Tears drip off my face. And I know what despair is. It isn’t about death. It’s about not being able to help those you love.

  Footsteps. I open my eyes. One of Goluken’s sons stands next to me. I glare at him, but I don’t move as he puts his face close to my ear and whispers, “Can you save her?”

  I stare at him blankly.

  “Somrusee—can you save her?”

  “Shut up!” I yell. “Just shut up. I hope Wynn kills you all.”

  He pulls out a knife. “I will let you go on two conditions,” he says. “First, that you tell no one, especially my father, who freed you. Second, that you save Somrusee.”

  “What do you care about Somrusee?” He has no right to care about her, not the way he fought this morning, not the way he dragged me around all day in a cart, not the way he sneaks to me now.

  “We were childhood friends,” he says quietly. “I loved her.”

  “Not well enough,” I tell him. “Why don’t you fight for her?”

  He says nothing. I’m angry and I want to yell at him and tell him that he’s a coward. But chasing him away would be stupid because he’s offering me a way out of this mess. A way to go and die for a woman I love.

  “Alright. We have a deal.”

  The knife cuts through the rope. Once my right hand is free, I shoot it forward and in one adroit motion, I take the knife from the man. He runs away while my left hand is still tied to the cart.

  Smart man—I don’t have time to waste chasing him. I run to the house.

  As I approach the doorway, I reach down and grab a large rock. I swing it down hard, and the doorknob goes flying. I kick, and the door swings open.

  Goluken stands nearly naked in the middle of the room, Somrusee cowers in the far corner of the room; her dress is gone and her blue za’an clothing is ripped. Her eyes are wide with terror. I see bruises forming on her shoulders, and her right eye is swollen. She’s still alive.

  “What is the meaning of this!” Goluken growls. I move fast. In just three strides I’m next to him, and I swing at him with the knife.

  He jumps out of the way and grabs my wrist. His grip smarts against the rope burns, but he cannot maintain a grip on my wrist, as it covered in slimy blood. My hand slips through his, pulling the knife with it, which slices into his palm.

  He swears and swings his other hand at me. The blow strikes me on my jaw before I have a chance to move out of the way. I stumble backward and hit the wall, barely keeping my balance. Goluken turns his back to me and runs to the bed. He’s going for his weapons.

  I regain my feet in time to run and jump at him. I plant the knife in his back before he makes it to the bed. He yells and spins to hit me, but this time I duck out of the way and he spins awkwardly, catching his balance against a chair.

  “Somrusee—run!” I shout. She starts to limp awkwardly to the door. With Goluken still off balance, I jump to the floor and push the knife through Goluken’s foot and into the wood. His scream echoes around the room as I roll away from a kick and jump to my feet to follow Somrusee.

  Goluken will not chase us, not with a knife in his foot.

  I catch up to Somrusee before she makes it out of the house, her gait awkward with the stud in her ankle. I pick her up and run. She puts her arms around my neck, pushing her body against mine. She clings to me as I run, her hair blowing against my neck.

  She’s alive. I’m alive. I run steadily, retracing our steps from the morning, amazed that I have any energy left after a terrible day. Thank you Buen, for all my training back at the castle.

  After what might have been at least an hour, the mountain barrier comes into view.

  “What are we doing here?” Somrusee asks. “We know we can’t get through, and Goluken’s men are behind us.”

  I stop and listen. Sure enough, I hear horses and see lights pushing through the trees toward us. A man yells. They’ve found us.

  Without time to explain, I set Somrusee down gently and lie prostrate on the ground next to the wall. If this doesn’t work, we’ll both die. “Step on my back,” I say.

  The lights are getting closer. I can understand the words the men are shouting. If Somrusee doesn’t make it through the barrier, this will be my final resting place. I look at the grass in front of me and hope it works.

  Somrusee steps on my back. Her weight is light. She steps onto the mountain ridge.

  “Karu! I’m in. Get up here!” Her voice is near hysterics as the men get closer to where I lie on the ground, still unprotected.

  I yell and jump up next to her. As soon as I cross the threshold, she throws her arms around me. Our pursuers are trapped just inches away from us.

  I set her down, and then we run away from the men.

  We’re in the mountain. We’re free.

  Again.

  We retreat as far as we dare go in the dark. My clothes are ripped and my jaw aches. Somrusee’s clothes are gone. I don’t care; we’re safe.

  ✽✽✽

  I wake up with an awful headache the next morning. I can barely work my jaw to chew the food Somrusee and I find along the path. The plants are the same as they are near her village, and so she knows what’s edible and what’s not.

  As much as my jaw aches, I don’t complain. Somrusee’s body is bruised just about everywhere. I give her my shirt, and it fits her okay. We don’t say much, but wander around finding food. Later in the day, probably afternoon, I realize I recognize the scenery. The brook where I was captured, the path along the edge of the mountain. We look around for a while until we find the path, and I take Somrusee to the fuma cave.

  The past feels like a dream, but I was here so long ago. Ler brought me here. Lydia was so angry.

  “We’ll stay here for now,” I say. In all my planning, I never thought of what to do if we got to the mountains. I don’t know if I believed that we would.

  But we did it.

  I sit down at the edge of the cave and watch the sun set. Somrusee sits down next to me and rests her head on my shoulder. And for a moment, I let myself smile.

  Intercession

  Every morning Buen woke up knowing the new day might be his last day.

  It wouldn’t be long now. It couldn’t be long. The weather was warm, Wynn had already sent Arujan back to the mountains with Buen’s blood coursing through his veins. Wynn would want to follow soon.

  What else could he be waiting for?

  Was this the day? Buen stirred, and the two za’an women on each side of him snuggled in closer. He sighed and let his fingers run along the side of his first za’an. She always liked that. She was pregnant with their second child now, and he could feel the bump against him. He didn’t know where their first child was; he hadn’t seen her for at least six months. Wherever she was, Wynn would kill her once he found out that Karl was gone. This unborn child and both za’an would die also. None of them knew what was coming. Not that it mattered—it couldn’t be stopped now.

  Buen rarely spoke to his za’an anyway. It was easier that way. The two women, girls really, took care of him in silence. After particularly hard days, he beat them. They never complained, took their beatings, and then continued to care for his needs, never meeting his eyes, never holding anything back from him.

  Some days he had hated them. For their weakness, for their passiveness, for their work to please him. But now, pondering his pending death, he knew he didn’t hate them. He hated himself and his submission to Wynn. That was what he saw in them. That was why he beat them. He wanted them to fight back, but they submitted to him. Just like he submitted to Wynn.

  Wynn stole the very blood running through Buen’s veins and gave it to Arujan every four months. Buen went out and killed and hunted in Wynn’s na
me daily. There was not one day, not one hour, not even one second that he had ever stood up to Wynn.

  Until now.

  And now it had been so many days that it was possible Karl had made it to the mountains, or would very soon. And, if he did, he would fight Wynn. He would probably die just like everyone who fought against Wynn. But he would fight.

  Karl was different. He really would have died to prevent Wynn from going to the mountains.

  He was someone worth dying for.

  Buen stretched again, and the two women woke up. Their bodies moved away from him, leaving him cold. Today, maybe, the heat would leave all of their bodies, and they would lie on the floor in this room—cold and hard and unmoving. Then, it would no longer matter how many people Buen had killed because he would kill no more.

  The women helped Buen stand and get dressed. They shaved his face and kissed his body. Like they always did. Soon they would never do it again.

  Buen left his room and walked downstairs for breakfast. A za’an met him at the entrance to the dining hall with a message to report to Wynn immediately.

  So, this was it. This was his last morning.

  The wind ruffled his hair as he walked, not to Wynn’s tower, but to his own room. The sun warmed his skin, but he didn’t feel it. Would the pain of having his blood drawn compare with the pain of being killed?

  It wasn’t more than ten minutes after Buen got to his room that the door flung open and Wynn entered. Buen turned and faced his enemy.

  Wynn, you’re a monster. You controlled my life, and you controlled me. I’ve abused and hurt and killed. But, I will do it no more. And, I hope that Karl is successful. I hope that he wins.

  “Buen,” Wynn walked slowly toward him. “I have been looking for Karu all morning. Do you know where he is?”

  Buen shook his head. “No master.”

  “Is he in the castle?” Wynn’s voice was cold as ice. As cold as Buen’s body would be soon. In Wynn’s eyes, anger burned as hot as any fire.