The Broken Reign

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The Broken Reign Page 9

by Jeremy Michelson


  The women and children were inside, huddled against the walls. The fires were low and smokey, like someone had been throwing wet, green wood on them. They all stared at him as he passed by. Their faces looked haunted. The children hid behind their mothers, poking their head around like Yord had. Their eyes were huge and they all looked hungry.

  So much for getting a good meal and relaxing.

  The warrior to him to Anta Vin’s private area at the back of the lodge. The warrior stopped at the ripped woven mat that passed for a door.

  “One of the Lords is here,” the warrior called out.

  There was a long pause, then a male voice replied. “Bring him in.”

  Puzzled, Fortune stepped through the door. Inside the room was a disaster. One of the walls had a giant hole in it, like someone had burst through it. Shelves had been tumbled to the floor, which was covered with broken pot shards. The room had the odor of unwashed bodies and sickness.

  Against the far wall sat an injured man. The man appeared to be middle-aged, with some white in his hair. His face was gray with pain as he raised his eyes to Fortune.

  “Lord Fortune,” the man said. He looked surprised.

  Fortune stepped forward and bowed. “You know who I am, sir, I am afraid I don’t know your name.”

  The man shook his head. “I was much younger when you were last here, but I remember you,” he said, “My name is Dovd. Please sit down.”

  Dovd told the warrior to bring Fortune some food. The warrior’s scowl deepened, but he turned and left. Fortune found an area free of pot shards and Yord brought him a cushion to sit on. He settled down into it, joints creaking, very much missing his Bramblevine throne. Yord curled up on the floor behind him. He stared at Dovd, wondering where to begin. Dovd had sustained some kind of serious injury, that much was clear. He wore a pure white fur over his naked torso, and Fortune could see a cloth wound around his belly.

  Lord Fortune cleared his throat. “I was expecting to see Anta Vin. Has she taken ill?”

  Dovd grimaced. Whether pain or something else, Fortune didn’t know.

  “Anta Vin is dead,” Dovd said, his voice flat.

  Fortune tried to keep the shock off his face, but his mouth hung open anyway. Dead? Anta Vin was old, but she was so tough, he expected her to outlast them all. Her passing would explain some of the tribe’s strange behavior.

  “I am so sorry,” Lord Fortune said, “Did she pass recently?”

  “She didn’t pass, I killed her,” Dovd said.

  For several long seconds, Fortune could do nothing but stare at the man in utter shock. Anta Vin, murdered? By one of her own tribe? How could the world have shifted so much?

  “Anta Vin was murdered?” he asked.

  “By me,” Dovd said. He leaned forward, wincing, pain showing on his face. “I had to do it. For the good of our people.”

  It was then Lord Fortune realized he had walked into very dangerous territory. So dangerous it made Hurdroth’s ruffians look mild.

  “I don’t understand,” Fortune said.

  Dovd scowled. “No one does,” he said, “Things have been too static around here. Changes need to be made. The Death Queen has returned. The tribe needs a strong hand to lead them now.”

  And you’re it? Lord Fortune kept the words in his mouth. Diplomacy was the word here. He moved onto the obvious question.

  “The Death Queen? You mean Amaya? Do you have reason to believe she is back?” Fortune asked.

  Dovd leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes. "Don't be a fool, Lord Fortune. And don't take me for one. By now the tale of the red-haired stranger has gone far and wide. I know Hurdroth has taken your castle. He has probably sent you here to negotiate for him."

  Fortune’s heart thudded in his chest. Dovd was well ahead of him. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Anta Vin was known for having spies everywhere. For someone who lived in a hollowed out tree trunk, the old woman had been surprisingly good at espionage.

  "So you do have the red-haired stranger?" Fortune asked.

  Dovd laughed. Behind Fortune, Yord let out a low growl.

  “I wish I did,” Dovd said, “It would have made things so much simpler. The day that bitch, Vazsa, brought him here, Anta Vin ordered him executed.”

  "What! He's dead?" A bolt of fear went through him. What would the King do if the red-haired stranger was dead?

  “I don’t know if he’s dead or not,” Dovd said, “As soon as Anta Vin pronounced the sentence he ran. The bastard escaped on the horse Vazsa had stolen from Hurdroth.”

  Fortune suppressed a groan. The stranger could be anywhere now. If he was even still alive. From what had been described to him, the stranger wasn't accustomed to outdoor living. Hurdroth had described him as some kind of soft village dweller.

  “And you have no idea where he is now?” Fortune asked.

  Dovd waved his hand. “Somewhere out in the forest. His bones have probably been picked clean by now.” His face darkened. “Vazsa and I tracked him to the edge of the forbidden area. That’s when she attacked me.”

  Fortune only had the barest idea of who Vazsa was. He knew she was one of Hurdroth’s women. Apparently one of his favorites, actually. At least until she stole the stranger and burned down his castle. Hurdroth had given him instructions to bring her back along with the stranger, if possible. At the moment it was looking like plan B was going to be needed.

  He had hoped he could appeal to Anta Vin herself and avoid the other option. He suspected she had held back quite a bit of magic from the before time. What he brought with him wasn’t going to last long. Things were just not going to go well for anyone.

  “Vazsa attacked you?” Fortune said. As discretely as possible, he slid his hand into his fur coat. “Why would she do that?”

  Dovd looked away for an instant, and Lord Fortune saw the truth in that movement. Dovd had attacked first. The woman was part of his ambitions. He had been planning to kill Anta Vin and take over the tribe for a long time.

  “She was insane,” Dovd said, “I think her time with Hurdroth drove her mad.”

  Fortune pasted a smile on his face. “Of course. I can understand that.” His fingers touched the magic wand hidden in the special pocket. He grasped it, locating the activation point. “What happened to her?”

  “She ran off with Cray,” Dovd said.

  “Cray? Who is Cray?”

  Dovd got a sour look. "A little bastard kid, full of himself. Anta Vin's great-grandson, Vazsa's sister."

  Fortune's stomach did flip-flops. "Vazsa is Anta Vin's granddaughter?"

  Dovd nodded. Fortune’s mind was reeling now. Anta Vin must have realized how dangerous Hurdroth was if she had sent her granddaughter to spy on him. Had Anta Vin been planning some way of protecting the tribe? Or perhaps destroying Hurdroth before he became a problem?

  “There is no direct lineage of Anta Vin left?” Fortune asked. His finger paused on the activation button.

  Dovd's face went purple. "There is no need for an heir! I am the leader of the forest people now. This is no longer Anta Vin's forest. It is Dovd's forest."

  “Of course,” Fortune said, “How did you get injured?”

  “I fell on a stick,” Dovd said with a sneer.

  Vazsa then. Or maybe the boy. A fact that no doubt burned at Dovd.

  “So are the forest people loyal to you now?” Fortune asked.

  “They better be, or my men will show them the price of disloyalty,” Dovd said.

  Which explained the women and children huddled in the lodge. Lord Fortune sighed. It was possible he might be doing the forest people a favor. Then he thought of Hudroth’s men running rampant through his castle. No, he wouldn’t be doing them a favor.

  He gripped the wand and pulled it from his robe. He had already inserted the special earplugs into his own ears when they entered the forest. It was fortunate he had a spare pair that he had put in Yord's ears as well. Though Yord had not been happy about it.

&n
bsp; Dovd’s eyes widened at the short, black wand in Fortune’s hand. “What are you doing?”

  Fortune gave him a sad look. “Forgive me,” he said.

  He pressed the activation area. Dovd’s body shook for a moment, then his eyes rolled up in his head. He fell over, blood dribbling out of his ears.

  Fortune kept his finger of the activation area for a few more seconds, then released it. With Yord's help, he got back to his feet. They left Dovd in Anta Vin's private area and went out to the common room. All the women and children were collapsed on the ground. They continued out to the cold air outside the lodge. All the lounging men were down too.

  With a heavy sigh, Fortune retrieved his other magical box, the twin of which was held by the King somewhere outside the forest. Fortune pressed the activation area on it.

  “It is done,” he said.

  Twenty-Two

  Joshua

  Joshua was conflicted on whether he should try to escape the little cabin. On the one hand, he was tied to a bed, exposed the old man's eye-watering body odor, and faced an uncertain future. On the other hand, the place was warm, the food was good, and the old man's gorgeous daughter was having sex with him every night.

  He had to admit, the sex every night thing might be a poor exchange for freedom.

  The old man was sitting by his bed, droning on about yet another battle he had been in during the reign of Queen Amaya. Joshua was rather appalled at the amount of blood and gore the old man was describing. Seivar, as they called their world, didn’t sound like any place he wanted to be out in.

  It was much nicer to lounge about in bed with the fur blanket pulled up over him and have food and...other things brought to him.

  Kojanza was in her usual spot on the other side of the room. Today she was sharpening a wicked looking dagger. He smiled at her. She gave him a scowl. When the old man was awake, she never gave the slightest hint she climbing Justin’s Matterhorn every night.

  He was astounded the old man hadn’t caught on. As much as he was enjoying the attention, Justin knew this little bit of paradise wasn’t going to last. His luck never seemed to steer him toward happiness.

  He also had the nagging feeling the people from the forest were looking for him. Maybe the people from the castle, too. If one of either group showed up at the door, the old man would probably try to sell him to the highest bidder. Which wasn’t fair. He hadn’t asked to be here, as pleasant as certain aspects were at the moment. He was just trying to save Grams.

  Whom he was suspecting of having yet another secret life. This time as some sort of warrior goddess queen. It seemed unlikely. His Grams was a sweet, though occasionally salty, old lady. World domination and chopping men down with her magical blade just didn’t seem like her.

  “–and then Queen Amaya raised her mighty sword, Sonomorte, and she smote the head from the leader of the Forzgen Clan,” the old man said, “Blood fountained from his neck and covered his men. The Queen spoke a spell and suddenly the blood was fire.”

  The old man rubbed at his face, a faraway look in his eyes. “I’ll never forget the sight, Amaya in her black armor, striding through the mass of burning men. The flames licked around her, but never touched her. When she came out on the other side, there was not a man of the Forzgen clan alive. She came up to me and her eyes were like night, like the pits of hell. A man could fall into them and be lost forever.”

  Joshua sat up. “Wait you were actually there? You met her?”

  The old man gave him a gap-toothed grin. "Of course I did. Back in the day, I was Lord Fortune's master at arms. I trained his army–and it was a damned fine one, too. Old Lord Fortune was a canny one, though. He never sent us into battle unless he was sure we could win. It wasn't like some Lords who thought if they needed more soldiers, they could just rustle up some more from the local villages. Throw away the lives of good young men. No, Lord Fortune was smarter than that."

  Joshua gave the old man a dubious look. “What happened then? Why are you out here in the middle of nowhere?”

  The old man gave him a funny look. “This isn’t the middle of nowhere,” he said, “This is as somewhere as any place can be.”

  Joshua moved, pulling at the rope on his leg. “You know what I mean,” he said, “Why are you and your daughter out here all alone?”

  “Ah, that,” the old man said, “Once the treaty was signed, and the armies disbanded, there wasn’t much use for a master at arms. I pleaded with Lord Fortune to keep me on. And bless him, he did. For a few years. Unfortunately I took to drink and ended causing a bit of a ruckus.”

  “Papa killed five men in drunken rage when they tried to attack mamma,” Kojanza said.

  Papa raised his head up, giving her a hard stare. “If I hadn’t been drinking, then I wouldn’t have killed them. I would have just hurt them very badly.”

  Joshua eyed the skinny old man, trying to imagine him as a badass warrior guy. Even if he squinted, it just didn’t work.

  “Anyway,” the old man said, “To avoid problems with the men’s families, Lord Fortune suggested I retire and move somewhere else. He gave me a bit of gold and a horse. With my lady and our babe in arms, I set out for someplace quiet.”

  “Someplace without drink,” Kojanza said.

  The old man rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, someplace where I couldn’t parch my thirst. We traveled from place to place for a few years until I found this spot near the forest people’s forbidden area. No one has bothered us here. At least not until you showed up.”

  He gave Joshua a hard stare. “You’re trouble alright,” the old man said, “But then I knew this wouldn’t last forever. My sweet Kojanza has been taking care of me since my beloved died. But I know she yearns for freedom.”

  “Papa...” Kojanza said.

  “Hush child,” the old man said. He rubbed at his eyes, which seemed to glisten more. “This is no life for you, looking after a doddering old man. You should have run me through with your dagger and lit off years ago.”

  “Papa! Don’t talk that way,” Kojanza said.

  The old man ignored her. He turned back to Joshua, giving him a measured look. “I wonder if I picked this place for more than one reason,” he said, “Is it just coincidence that the heir of Queen Amaya ended up practically on my doorstep?”

  “Wait, I’m no heir of anything,” Joshua said, “I don’t even know how I got here. I don’t know who Queen Amaya is.”

  Which was true, but also a lie. The descriptions of the queen with her black armor and eyes like night matched the woman in Gram’s painting. And he knew that the woman in the painting had Gram’s face. Still, it seemed ridiculous that any of this was real.

  Then what is it?

  He pushed the thought aside. Maybe he was actually unconscious under the rubble of Gram’s house after the earthquake tumbled it down. He was probably lying there, body broken, waiting in vain for rescue.

  It certainly seemed more plausible than falling through a magic painting and getting his pole waxed by an implausibly beautiful woman every night.

  The old man laughed. Suddenly there was a dagger in his hand. Before Joshua could react, the old man leapt forward. The knife flashed in front of his face. Joshua flung himself back, knocking his head on the wall. The old man was already back in his seat.

  He held something up. Something red. For a heart-stopping moment, Joshua was convinced the old man had cut off his nose. Then he realized it was a lock of his red hair.

  “That’s what proves you’re the heir,” the old man said, cackling. “Hair red as fire, just as the Queen’s.”

  Joshua shook his head. “Where I come from red hair is pretty common,” he said, “And most people don’t think very much of it, either.”

  “You’re hers, whether you admit it or not,” the old man said, “And I’ve been thinking on this since you arrived. I think there’s a reason why the Queen sent you to me. You’re raw material and mostly useless now–”

  “Hey–”

&
nbsp; “–But you can be forged into something. Maybe what our land has been needing.”

  Kojanza stood and moved over to the old man. “Papa, what are you talking about?”

  The old man rubbed his hands together. “We have some work to do, beloved daughter.”

  Joshua really didn’t like the way the old man was smiling at him. He tugged at the rope on his leg. It held fast. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet.

  He had a feeling the fun times were over.

  It was just the way his luck always ran.

  Twenty-Three

  Lord Fortune

  Lord Fortune bowed deeply to King Hurdroth. He kept his eyes on the neatly cut stone floor of his former throne room. The floor was dirty, stained with mud and bodily fluids. It also smelled of manure. The King had taken to letting his favorite horse stay in the room with him.

  “Oh, get up you useless old man,” Hurdroth said.

  Fortune straightened, feeling his back crackle as he did. Too many nights on the hard bed out in the stables, or camped out on the frozen ground. He missed his old bed with its deep feather mattress and warm blankets.

  He glanced at the nearest window slit. The colored glass panes, done by a long-dead master glass craftsman, were gone, broken out in one of the King's drunken fits, he suspected. The wind blew a gust of cold air in and Fortune shivered. Winter had returned with a vengeance. It seemed to barely relax its grip on the land this past year. Spring had come late and summer was chill. Now the land was cloaked in white again, and it seemed like the snow and the cold would never end.

  Everything changed and changed again. Even his half dog brother Yord had disappeared. Fortune was surprised by how much he missed him.

  “What news do you have?” the King said.

  He lounged in the Bramblevine throne, legs stretched out before him. The scowl on his face belied the relaxed pose.

  Lord Fortune had thought over how he would give Hurdroth the news. There didn’t seem to be any good way.

 

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