by B C Penling
“Prisoner requested by Donovan has arrived,” Turtleback said, straightening as much as he could.
“I’m surprised this wimpy little elfie didn’t throw you out the window. She’s more muscled and mighty than you are.” One scoffed, poking at Turtleback with the javelin.
“Better watch it or else I might throw you out the window.” Lana glared at him.
He laughed. “What could a puny thing as you do to such a brute as me?”
Lana threw herself into the guard, kicking. Her foot made contact with his ugly face. He sprawled to the ground before the other guard could flinch. Lana continued to kick the fallen Warisai in his ugly maw while Turtleback halfheartedly pulled the chain to halt her.
The other guard laughed at the one being kicked, rightfully so. An elf, less than half his size, was beating him. The second Warisai, thinking he could do better, decided to lunge at her. She stepped back and stuck out her foot. He tripped and landed face-first on the stone. His skull made a sickening thud and he fell to the floor unconscious.
Turtleback chuckled from behind her. “Well, look likes you couldn’t handle elfie.”
They might be large, scary creatures but they were easily defeated. Lana began to wonder if they relied on the element of surprise, like ambush hunters, in order for their massacres to be successful. They attacked at Arbortown, quickly and forcefully. If the elves had known they were coming, perhaps the victors would not have been the Warisai. Elves were valiant fighters when armed and at the ready. Even with the element of surprise in the Warisai’s favor, the elves managed to kill many of them.
If the civilizations of Dagan united against a common fight to eradicate the Warisai, then the world would be free of fear once again. But, would they spare Turtleback? She looked at him, his bent body and grotesquely disfigured face that smiled proudly at her for doing what he always wanted to do but was never capable of.
“Through the doors,” Turtleback nudged her gently.
A large hand suddenly grabbed her foot. She leapt in surprise and struck out, kicking the guard in the face until Turtleback halfheartedly dragged her into the empty room beyond the heavy doors. She was breathing heavily and her heart screamed for freedom. She defeated two Warisai while shackled. What could she do if she wasn’t?
"This room was father's room," Turtleback said, shutting the doors. "He gone forever now. Dead."
Lana looked at Turtleback with empathy. "My father is, too."
"I knows," Turtleback said. He lowered his voice to a whisper and became very serious. "Would be alive if it not for Donovan. Both ours fathers. I not thinks Don likes father's new plans for Warisai. I thinks Don murder him."
"What new plans?" Lana whispered.
"Oh, be likes yous and alls other on Dagan," Turtleback replied quietly. "No kills. Don sent troops to kill elfies, father not happy and scolded Don. He died when talking to Don. Bad things, Pretty, very bad things."
"Donohue was nice to me when he came to visit," Lana said quietly. "He told me never to trust Donovan. He said he was sorry for what happened in Arbortown, my home, and that he didn't want that to happen. He was sincere but it was hard to have an open mind to the one who killed Magnen. Even after he said he regretted his actions."
"Oh, father was bad Warisai but turns good," Turtleback said. "I helps him likes bugs."
Lana smiled.
Turtleback whispered through his jagged yellow teeth, “And, Pretty, much thanks to you. I not likes thems guards out there. Always means to me.” He chuckled quietly to himself as he tightened Lana’s chains. “Sorry, Pretty. I needs to makes it look likes I did something to punish you.”
“I understand, Turtle,” Lana said. “Of all the Warisai, you are the best in my eyes.”
“That praise my heart,” Turtleback said. “You not deserve this so I loosens thems later.”
Lana glanced at the doorway. Heavy footfall hurried down the corridor.
Donovan.
Her heart raced, thudding wildly in her ears. She wanted to fight him. She wanted to make him hurt like she made the other two hurt. She wanted to incapacitate him, harm him or kill him; preferably the last. The world would be better without the likes of him.
“You not do its again!” Turtleback yelled at Lana.
He had just finished tightening the chains that bound her hands to her waist when Donovan stepped through the doorway.
“What happened?” Donovan barked.
“This elfie here,” Turtleback began. “She quick and sneaky and with more strength than what can sees, sir. Funny little things these elfies are. I haves her on shorter leash. Keeps hawk’s eyes on her, sir.”
“Both my guards?” Donovan sounded cold. “You wretched creature.”
He grabbed her by the chin, wrapping his hand around her face and almost touching her eye with his curved talon. He sneered at her and she glared defiantly into his heartless eyes. If only she had a dagger. She would do a favor for all of Dagan and drive it into his chest.
“Curious how you can take out my guards while shackled, yet the weakest of us you haven’t touched.” His eyes accusingly flicked to Turtleback. “Why is that? Were you treating her like one of your little pets? Did you hope you’d actually have a friend?”
Turtleback stammered. “No. No. I guard. She a prisoner. No friends except bugs.”
“Why didn’t you kill the weakest Warisai? Did you pity him? Did your compassion get in your way?”
“I know not to bite the hands that feed me.” Lana scowled and stared coldly at Donovan.
A smirk snaked its way across his face. “Makes sense. If I was ever a prisoner, I’d do the same. I’d schmoose the enemy into believing I’m not as bad as I appeared to be. I’d befriend them, and then kill them one by one.” He touched his belt absentmindedly.
“You wouldn’t be taken prisoner,” Lana said scathingly. “Anyone with half a thought in their heads would kill you instantly.”
“Then I’d best send someone in my place.” His smile faded. “Oh, I have already.”
He chuckled, turned his back to her and walked to the window. He looked out upon Dinsmore, the city surrounding Dansrivan, the first fortress the Warisai conquered.
“Ah, but, with all of this, who can imprison me?” he asked. “Below us is a sprawling city and below the city is even more. I am untouchable with the amount of troops. Nobody, nothing can reach me here.”
It was a frightening thought to learn that there were more Warisai beneath Dinsmore. Like an anthill, the ground beneath had tunnels of Warisai and maybe even dragons. Her neck prickled with the thought of what might be below. Like ants, would they store their food in underground chambers? Her stomach churned. Her kind became their food. Were they below her in the thousands, waiting to be consumed? Were they slowly decomposing in piles kept cool by their earthen tomb? She knew her mother wasn’t and that gave her a little peace but she didn’t know where her father and brothers were and assumed that their bodies were with the others below.
He turned around, acting friendly. “I have decided to move you to a more suitable room.”
“And I should care, why?” she asked snootily.
“You’ll have a window to look upon my kingdom and see outside day and night. That is what elves like, is it not? Not to be stuck in a cold dungeon cell.”
“Wasn’t cold.” Lana replied dryly. “It’s colder in here.”
She speculated he intended to keep her for a while since he wanted her in a better room. Plus, if he hadn’t intended to keep her, she’d be dead already. If it was permanent, she didn’t know, but she felt she was granted some leniency due to whatever his plan happened to be.
“Turtleback!” He barked, storming over to him from across the room. “Make a fire for my charming little elfie.” He hunched over her, like a cat waiting for a mouse to move. “That should make your stay more comfortable.”
Lana’s skin crawled but she managed to keep contact with his sinister eyes. She would’ve preferred
to stay in the dungeon than be anywhere near Donovan.
“Perhaps,” she muttered.
He smirked amusedly. “I’ve already had some bedding brought up to your new room. You might recognize its origins.”
Her heart sank but she kept a placid exterior. She half-expected to turn around and see things from her own room. The memories clutched her, chipping away at her resolve. She didn’t reply or look behind her. She stood stone-still and stared past Donovan.
“It seems like my hospitalities are not welcomed or good enough for you. Perhaps you would like to go the way of the others. I can arrange that personally.”
If her hands were freed, she would’ve strangled him. It was his fault her family was dead. It was his fault she wasn't with Zen. It was his fault she was stuck here.
“Chain her to the wall,” he growled. He turned to face the windows again.
Turtleback shuffled over from the fireplace and chuckled throatily. “Come yous, to the walls.”
He pushed her ahead of him, causing her to stumble. Turtleback strung the chains through a hoop and padlocked it. He gave it a few hard yanks.
“There, elfie, you goes nowhere now. Do no more harms on us Warisai. Or else I’ll have to gets me out me Ol’ Nine-Tails and teaches yous a lessons or two.” He shook a crooked finger at her but also winked.
“That’s unnecessary,” Donovan said. “She will behave herself.”
“I expect her to tries things, I do,” Turtleback grumbled. “Sneaky little elfie. Naughty little elfie.”
Turtleback shambled to the doors.
“Now, what to do about guards for you,” Donovan said nonchalantly.
“I coulds be her guard,” Turtleback suggested. “Knows her already, I do.”
“Hmm, yes,” Donovan drawled. “I suppose I could let you do that. That would be a good way to rid myself of you by having her do it for me.”
Lana looked at Turtleback. He sank lower and tapped his fingertips together slowly. The poor creature seemed to have more emotions that the rest of the Warisai combined. Why he even stayed there, she didn’t know. He deserved better. He deserved freedom.
“Since you’ve practically begged me to guard her, I won’t let you. You likely want a promotion out of that dismal dungeon of yours. No, you won’t guard her here.” He sneered with pleasure.
“Only suggestions, sir,” Turtleback said. “Little elfie hasn’t gaves me much troubles. Maybe elfie thinks I is too ugly.”
“Hmm, ugly is true,” Donovan cooed. “No. I would rather you were out of eyesight and certainly out of every thought. No guards are needed as long as she’s chained and the door is locked. Nobody dares to touch her anyways.” He paused and looked at her covetously. “She’s mine.”
Lana sat down on the stolen bedding from Abortown. They reeked of Warisai, not of home. There was no comfort nor did they bring reminiscing. She stared at Donovan. The lust for murder was on her mind. She belonged to nobody and certainly not to him.
Either she needed to kill him or she needed to escape. Whichever one was most opportunistic, she would attempt. She needed to get away from them and get home to Zen.
CHAPTER 32
OURISIAN PAIN
The air was fresh with the scent of fallen leaves saturated by the heavy rainfall. It was the kind of crisp morning that everyone looks forward to in yearend; a morning that was as peaceful as the quietest summer night. It was a morning for tea and tending the tranquil soul. For Zen and the others, it was a morning for travelling. They headed north towards Ouris, a half day hike through the hills and mountains.
“I’m telling you, I am not included with the likes of most of them,” Dooley said to Zen. “My own brother tried to have me killed. What honor is there in that? My father and I have spent months talking about the future of the Warisai and the redirection we needed to undertake in order to ensure the survival of our species, as well as others.”
“First order of business,” Zen said authoritatively, “a name change.”
“That was one thing,” Dooley said in agreement.
“Seriously,” Zen said. “It should’ve been the first thing you two spoke about. Your reputation for being kind and forgiving doesn’t exist.”
“That’s something my father regrets deeply.” Dooley sighed. “It’ll be hard to create a good image from all this.”
“The Malworn are excellent examples,” Zen said. “They are still shunned years after the Fae War.”
“The Warisai deserve to be, too,” Dooley agreed. “They’ve destroyed much.”
“They, include you,” Zen said. “Don’t forget that.”
“I have not,” Dooley replied. “I take full responsibility for my actions. I’m not innocent in all of it. I know I’ve killed many in the years since I began yielding weapons. I’ve watched the destruction of cities, towns, ways of life and livelihood. I was proud then but now after my father mentioned a new beginning, I realize that he’s right. I had finished raiding Frost Heather on Ancienta and, upon my return, my father discussed with me how he wanted to change the Warisai. Subsequently, we had many discussions thereafter. The change of heart started while my father was walking with my younger brother Duncan, the one I asked you to spare. While he was gathering insects for his collection, our father noticed how gentle he was with them. He talked to the bugs while he caught them. My father noticed how they weren't afraid of Duncan nor did they shy away from his appearance. He thought if the lowest creatures weren't frightened of Warisai, maybe others wouldn't be either.”
"It's more than just appearances," Zen commented. "It's actions."
“Genetricis was once beautiful,” Muzh U Kijo said. “It’s a pity what you’ve done to it.”
“I remember when it was green. I remember it well.” Dooley took a deep breath. “After we came across Kijo’s camp and they attempted to assassinate me, I was on the run. I fled into the forest but they didn’t pursue me very far, oddly enough. I assume they must’ve picked up her scent, the elf’s that is, just as I had.” He took a breath. “If I could smell her, they could too, and she was a much larger prize for them than I was.” He took a deep breath. “She smelled so alluring, very different than the other elves; like novelyear when trees would bloom. I made my way up to the ridgeline, figuring a higher vantage point could help me find her first.”
Zen looked at him sharply, brow furrowed angrily.
“No, I wasn’t going to kill her,” Dooley said. “But, after they tried to kill me, I vowed to disrupt Donovan’s plans. Whatever his reason, I wanted his desire to have her to remain only that. I wasn't going to let him have her.”
Dooley shook his head. “Being injured from the attack, I was slow to reach the ridge. By the time I spotted her and you, Zen, it was too late. The Warisai had found you first. She was taken. They cry you issued was like no other I’ve heard before, even from dying animals. It tired my heart, something that I had never felt before.”
“I didn’t think you had one,” Zen mumbled sadly.
Dooley shrugged. “Maybe one grew?”
“We shall see.”
They followed the path that wound its way along the steep, rocky slope that led up to a solid wall of rock spires that stretched their fingerlike peaks to the sky.
The sky was patchy with clouds but painted a crisp blue beyond them. Below them, the forest sounded with birdsong as birds busied themselves from branch to branch, foraging and socializing. To sunrest, the Bledsoes towered above the Desert Austere, their peaks shrouded in thick gray clouds.
Ouris wasn’t terribly far from where they had stayed the night in the cave. Since Tigthero couldn’t fly and absolutely refused to be carried, they made their way on foot. They moved at a steady pace which pleased Zen. Xaf pranced proudly in the rear while Tigthero led the way with Panthigra on his back. Arley happily rode on Zen and hummed a dwarfish song along the way while admiring the scenery. Dooley jogged beside Zen, showing his stamina while carving his own trail along the muddy hillside
.
Ahead of them they caught a glimpse of a city in the distance. Smoke rose from the chimneys, hazing the air. Large ships were moored in the deep harbor along the coast. The docks were quiet but busy.
“Let’s hurry up,” Muzh U Kijo said loudly. “I have a hankering for some hot mauck.”
“I have a hankering to find Lana,” Zen commented over his shoulder. “She’s much more important than hot mauck.”
“We’ll retrieve her in due time,” Kijo replied.
“Thus far we’ve gone the opposite direction, farther away from where she is,” Zen added. “I don’t see how this is helpful.”
“You need an army, Zen,” Kijo stated. “You can’t fly right into Dansrivan and expect to take her on your own. I believe we covered all this.”
“What will Ourisians do? Ship supplies? Throw rocks? They’re defenseless and nonmilitant,” Zen said.
“Their prince,” Kijo said firmly, “is a great man.”
Zen stopped and turned around. He looked Kijo in the eyes. “I know.”
“Barator is on his way to Ouris and Warisai are in his shadow,” Kijo said. “Who else do you think is competent enough to lead your army? You? We both know that we can’t do it without him. Timing is everything in this and he had the only city on Ancienta that has kept its military prowess. Even with the Warisai coming here, others have been too daft to incorporate drills and patrols into their daily schedules. People and creatures of Ancienta have grown complacent and as such, many have seen their downfall. The people of Magneria on Genetricis have not. If Barator leads his forces alongside those of Magneria, we will stand a fighting chance.”