The Broken Reign

by Jeremy Michelson

  Vazsa looked down at the object Dr. Fran's hands. The arrow shaft was made of willow, but not well cured. The shaft was bowed slightly. The feathers at the end were black chicken feathers. In Dr. Fran's other hand, the stone arrowhead was well formed, but it more triangle shaped. The arrowheads from her tribe were more of an elongated diamond shape. She briefed a small sigh of relief.

  “The forest people didn’t make that,” she said, “That’s more in the style of the hill people–Hurdroth’s people.”

  Dr. Fran looked to Cray. Vazsa silently prayed for him not to say anything stupid.

  “Our people don’t make such crude and poorly made things,” he said, “And like I said, if it had been forest people out there, they wouldn’t have missed. You’d be dead.”

  Dr. Fran frowned. She turned and walked away.

  "For what it's worth, doc," Lou said, "Vazsa here did good. She's a soldier. A damned fine one."

  Vazsa felt a small glow of pride at the compliment. It meant something coming from a real warrior like Lou.

  “I still don’t trust them,” Dr. Fran said, “The captain wouldn’t allow them here.”

  “Captain’s on walkabout with the professors,” Pete said, “When he gets back he can chew us out.”

  “If he gets back,” Tony said.

  “Don’t say that,” Dr. Fran said, “He’s going to get back.”

  “We haven’t had com contact with him for a long time,” Tony said.

  "That's because the hand coms don't work over that kind of distance," Pete said. He adjusted the hat on his head, shifting from foot to foot. "When they get close enough, we'll hear from them. In the meantime, what are we going to do about the Tojedda thing? Without him, we're blind to what the locals are doing."

  “Why are you guys so interested in what we’re doing?” Cray asked.

  Lou grinned at him. “Because we don’t want you guy sneaking up on us. There’s a helluva lot more of you than there are of us,” he said.

  Vazsa frowned. That couldn’t be all of it. They wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of recruiting an informant unless they had other interests. She knew from her own truncated espionage career that the goal was to gain power over their opponents through information.

  For the first time, she wondered how the ship came to crash on Seivar. The crew had been vague about it, telling her the ship had been caught in an anomaly. Which meant nothing to her.

  They had also been vague about how long they had been on Seivar. From the worn state of their clothing, and everything in the ship, it looked like years.

  “What will you do when your Captain returns?” she asked.

  Their heads all snapped to her, like they just remembered she was in the room.

  “We’ll ask him when he gets back,” Dr. Fran said.

  There was something else bothering her. “How are you going to get back where you came from?” she asked. “Isn’t your ship too damaged to return to the sky?”

  The three men looked uncomfortable. Dr. Fran just frowned. “We’re exploring alternatives,” she said.

  Suddenly she understood. “You’re looking for a portal, aren’t you?”

  Dr. Fran locked eyes with Vazsa. “What do you know about portals?” she asked.

  What do you know about portals? Vazsa felt all their eyes boring into her. Even Lou was giving her a hungry look now. Dr. Fran came across the room and grabbed Vazsa’s arm. She put her face up to hers. The doctor’s breath smelled of bitter herbs.

  “You’re going to fucking tell me about the portals, and you’re going to do it right now,” Dr. Fran said.

  “Hey, doc,” Lou said, “I wouldn’t–”

  Vazsa slammed her fist into Dr. Fran’s stomach. The air went out of the woman with a whuff. Vazsa broke her grip and shoved her back. She took hold of Cray and pulled him out of the room. The sound of Lou’s laughter followed them.

  “Come on, run,” she told Cray. She flew down the corridor toward the equipment bay.

  “Where are we going?” Cray said, huffing as he tried to keep pace with her.

  “We have to get out of here,” Vazsa said, “They’re trying to find the portal.”

  She hit the touchpad beside the hatch. The stained door opened with a groan. Lights started coming on, illuminating the almost empty hanger bay.

  “So?” Cray asked, “What’s the big deal?”

  She pulled him through the door and keyed it shut. She enabled the lock. It wouldn't stop the crew, but it would slow them down. She turned. Across the empty bay, the Armor unit stood next to the exterior hatch.

  “Because if they find the portal, they might bring more of their kind to our world,” Vazsa said. She pointed to the Armor unit. “They might bring armies of those things. Or something worse. They’d destroy us all.”

  She started running toward the Armor. A glance back, showed Cray following, a troubled look on his face. At the foot of the Armor, she started climbing the ladder on the back. She looked down. Cray was standing, looking up.

  “Come on!” she shouted at him.

  “What if they just want to go home?” he asked.

  “We can’t take that chance!” she said. “Just look at what Queen Amaya did to us. Think about what a thousand of her would be like.”

  Cray shook his head. “I don’t think these guys are like that.”

  Someone was pounding on the locked hatch now. Her sweaty palms were slipping on the metal rungs.

  “I’m leaving,” she said, “Are you coming or not.”

  Cray shook his head again. “No, and you shouldn’t either.”

  Vazsa thought of the crazed look in Dr. Fran’s eyes. No, she wasn’t going to stay. She had to get out and warn...someone. Get back to the tribe somehow. With Anta Vin gone who would be ruling in her place?

  Voices shouting now. She looked toward the hatch. There wasn’t time. She took one last look at Cray, then clambered into the cockpit. She started flipping switches, activating the system. The Armor started humming as its systems and motors came online.

  She turned the weapons control on, then took the headset and put it on. She toggled more switches, then pulled the gloves over her hands. The feeling of immenseness, of power, flowing through her again.

  “Vazsa, don’t this.”

  Vazsa started. The Armor unit translated her movement twitching with a groan of metal and whine of motors. The floor under the Armor shook.

  Lou. Talking to her over the far speaker.

  “Vazsa, Dr. Fran didn’t mean anything,” Lou said, “She’s just stressed. She won’t hurt you.”

  Vazsa didn’t answer. She took a step toward the huge hanger doors, sending the command for them to open. Orange lights flashed at the top and bottom of the doors, but they didn’t open.

  She cursed under her breath. They must be overriding it somehow.

  “Vazsa, come on,” Lou said, “Don’t take the armor, we need it.”

  For what? she wondered. Did they need it to terrorize the natives?

  The sensor array picked up movement. One, two, three, bodies. They had broken into the hanger bay already. Vazsa armed a missile and aimed for the door.

  “Vazsa! No!” Lou’s voice shouted.

  She fired the missile. It flew from the Armor into the door. A huge explosion blinded her for moment, making her stumble back. When the sensors cleared of smoke, there was a huge hole in the doors.

  Vazsa made the Armor step forward. Three steps and she was outside the ship. Huge trees towered above her, their thick canopy creating a perpetual twilight. Without looking behind, she strode away, the Armor clanking and hissing. Striding deeper into the forest.

  Thirty-Five

  Joshua

  Joshua found a nail in the stinking muck on the stall floor. It was rusty and bent, but he smiled when he brought it up to his face. Brute force didn’t solve problems.

  Damnit, the traitorous horse, put his head over the half wall and blew raspberries at him. Joshua wiped the horse spit fro
m his face.

  “If there’s a glue factory nearby, that’s going to be our next stop,” he told the horse.

  Damnit rolled his eyes and put his head back in his own stall. Another thunderous release of flatulence followed. How much gas could one horse produce?

  Joshua's fingers found the lock on the metal neck collar. The lock was large and crude. He put the nail in it and started exploring the tumblers. He wouldn't be able to get much leverage. With any luck, the mechanism had been oiled sometime in recent memory.

  When he was in his teens, he had a brief obsession with locks. He had never gotten good enough to pick door locks, but simple padlocks were easy to undo with a bent-up paperclip.

  Tumblers moved, and with a hard twist of the nail that bit into his finger, the lock popped open. The collar and chain fell to the ground with a clatter. Damnit snorted and stamped his feet at the sound.

  For a moment, Joshua sat there, stunned that it actually worked. Then he was on his feet, running out of the stall. He grabbed the lantern Fortune left behind and ran down the length of the barn. He checked every stall, but Kojanza wasn’t in any of them. The barn was empty except for him and three horses. One of the stalls was clean, and made up with a bed, like someone had been sleeping there.

  Where would they be keeping her? A darker thought occurred to him. Maybe Fortune had lied. Maybe she was dead, and he was trying to trick Joshua into cooperating.

  If that was the case, the old man was going to die.

  A part of him marveled that he was serious about murdering a man. Then he remembered he had already done that back at the cabin. It was a sign of how deep he had sunk himself into this world.

  “What have you done to me Grams?” he whispered.

  He shook his head. Priorities. He had to focus. Clothing, then a weapon. How much time did he have before someone came to check on him? Probably not enough.

  He ran through the barn, searching. He found a ratty fur cloak hanging on a nail and wrapped it around his naked torso. His time in the forest had increased his cold tolerance, but it was still fricking winter out there.

  As for a weapon, all he could find was a wooden staff. He took it anyway. Maybe he could find something else later.

  There were large double doors at either end of the barn. Smaller, person-sized doors were set to the side of the large doors. Fortune had walked away to the left. Joshua decided to go to the right. He stopped at the smaller door, putting his ear to it and listening. He couldn't hear anything through the thick wood. There were probably guards posted, though.

  He gripped the wooden staff. Kojanza and her father had taught him how to fight, how to use a variety of weapons. Though he wasn’t all that skilled with anything. The old man and his warrior daughter had spent a lot of time shaking their head after his many failures.

  He’s never going to be very good, pappa, Kojanza would say.

  The old man would sigh and rub his cheeks. He just needs to be good enough.

  Joshua yanked open the door and dived through. He rolled to his feet, swinging the staff at whoever might be outside the door. Which was no one. The staff whistled through the air, sending him off balance. He tumbled to the dirty snow.

  He got up, brushing snow off. “Idiot,” he told himself.

  He moved away from the doorway, so he wouldn't be silhouetted in it. That much of the old man's teaching stuck, at least. The snow was falling in heavy, ragged chunks. The air was crisp and clean smelling. He took a deep breath, savoring it. Much better than the manure muck inside the barn.

  “Hey!”

  Joshua snapped his head toward the voice. "Oh, mother f–"

  He didn’t bother the finish the sentence. The three dozen or so bearded and armed warriors standing around a fire across the courtyard had started moving. It seemed like a good idea to start moving too.

  He should have picked the other damned door.

  He slammed the door shut and threw the locking bolt. Something that might slow the horde down for maybe half a second. Joshua ran down the open center of the barn. He skidded to a stop in front of Damnit’s stall.

  He and the horse eyed one another for a split second, then Joshua grabbed the rope holding the horse in and unwrapped it from the rail. He yanked at it, but the horse dug in its hooves. It shook his head, nearly pulling Joshua off his feet.

  Wood cracked at the end of the barn. The doors, both the person-sized door and the big double doors crashed open. Angry, bearded faces filled the spaces.

  Joshua changed tactics. He jumped on the half wall, then vaulted onto the horse’s back. He smacked the wooden staff on the horse’s rump. Damnit whinnied, rising up on his hind legs. Joshua, sliding, clung to the rope. The back of his head struck a wooden roof beam. His vision wavered.

  Damnit jumped out of the stall and spun around in the open area. Joshua held tight to the rope, dizzy from the blow and now the horse’s merry-go-rounding. Men were shouting at him from the doorway.

  The horse stopped, head pointed to the men. Joshua smacked the horse’s rump with the stick again and it leapt forward, charging the men. The men, in turn, charged through the opening. Joshua saw a wicked array of swords, spears and daggers in their thick hands.

  This isn’t going to end well, Grams.

  Thirty-Six

  Joshua

  Inspiration struck Joshua as the horde of barbarians bore down on him. He held out the wooden staff in both hands.

  “I call upon the power of Queen Amaya! Ooga Booga Booga!” He shouted

  The angry warrior's expressions turned to terror and they parted like the red sea. Joshua slapped Damnit's ass. The horse sprang forward and they sped out of the barn into the cold night air. The horse seemed to know where it was going. They flew past the fire in the courtyard toward an arched gate.

  Which was closed. Damnit slammed to a stop and Joshua tumbled over the top of him. He landed on the snow-covered stone flat on his back, knocking the breath out of him. The horse's face hovered over his. Then Damnit sneezed. Joshua lifted an aching arm and wiped horse snot off his face for the second time that night.

  This really wasn’t going well.

  Murmuring voices were drawing near. He angled his head and got an upside down view of battle-hardened warriors creeping toward him. Joshua judged their caution wouldn't last very long.

  "I'm just a freaking computer programmer," he told the horse leaning over him, "I'm not Conan or Rambo or any of those guys."

  Damnit shook his head and farted again. Joshua groaned. The animal had serious flatulence issues. Approaching footsteps reminded him he was going to have his own issues very soon if he didn’t move.

  He rolled over and got to his knees. Falling snow drifted in his face. He scanned the courtyard. What were his options? Besides impalement and dismemberment. The bearded warriors blocked the way back to the barn. Which was fine, he didn’t want to go there anyway.

  What else? The courtyard was large and the thick snow obscured the details. There was a ladder next to the large, unfortunately blocked gate. It appeared to be the only option. Which meant he should have been on his feet and shimmying up the moment he hit the ground instead of sitting and contemplating.

  He really, really sucked at this stuff.

  He thought of all the video games he played back home. None of them were like this. If this was a video game, it would have been a really crappy one.

  Damnit, the horse, nudged Joshua with his nose. Joshua shook his head. Get your head in the game, man! Except it wasn’t a game. The bad guys had real weapons and would really kill him.

  He jumped to his feet and ran for the ladder. He was halfway up it when he heard boots running up to the wall. Joshua turned, looking down. The bearded warrior were gathered below like a pack of rabid dogs.

  He pointed his hand at them. “Ooga Booga Booga Boo!” he shouted. A few of them stepped back, but most didn’t.

  “Hey, get down here,” one of them shouted back, “You’re supposed to stay in the barn
.”

  Joshua resumed climbing the ladder.

  “Don’t make us come up there,” the man shouted at him.

  Joshua didn’t answer. He could hear the men murmuring to themselves below. He didn’t care what they talked about as long as they weren’t throwing sharp objects at him.

  Just as he reached the top, he felt the ladder shake. He looked down and saw the hairy guys starting to climb. With one last lunge, he heaved himself over the edge. Bracing himself against the wall, he put his feet on the ladder and gave it a shove.

  He got a glimpse of an armored head and hairy hands as the ladder arced away from the ledge. Men shouted and cursed, then there were multiple thumps as bodies hit the ground. Followed by even more colorful cursing.

  Joshua peeked over the edge, assessing the mayhem his had just caused. Men were sprawled on the ground in a tangled heap.

  Not bad. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

  Joshua stood, dusting himself off. Now he just had to find Kojanza, escape from the castle, find Gram’s portal and get the flippity fuck out of this crazy place.

  “Hey!”

  Joshua whirled around. Men were pouring from a door at the end of the walkway.

  “Hey!”

  Joshua spun the other way. More men poured from the door at the other end of the walkway.

  And he had just pushed the nearest ladder away. He raised his head and hands to the sky, snow stinging his face.

  "Grams, I could use a little Deus Ex Machina here!" he shouted.

  Something whistled through the air. A fiery explosion rocked the castle.

  Thirty-Seven

  Lord Fortune

  Lord Fortune's heart nearly stopped when the explosion rocked the castle. It rattled the dishes in the kitchen and dust sifted from the ceiling. He was there trying to cajole the cook into giving him a little extra food for the red-haired man. Without much success.

  The scowl on the cook’s face vanished. He dropped the soup ladle he’d been brandishing at Fortune and ducked under a thick, wooden table. Another explosion shook the building. Dust drifted down from the ceiling and the hanging pans clanked and rattled against each other.