The Broken Reign

by Jeremy Michelson

  Hurdroth stood. His armor rattled and creaked. He came around the fire and put his face close to Fortune’s. It had been a very long time since the King had bathed. He smelled very, very bad. Fortune’s eyes watered, but he kept his face composed in a neutral expression.

  The King stared into his eyes for several seconds. Fortune could see hate, rage, and amusement there. The amusement made him more afraid than any of the other emotions. Amusement was like a cat playing with a mouse. Death could take a very long time.

  “My Lord Fortune, would the weapons of Queen Amaya perhaps be located in a great metal vessel, which rests in a box canyon over yonder ridge?” Hurdroth asked.

  Fortune felt the blood drain from his face. “It is my understanding that is where they are, yes.”

  The King’s eyes narrowed. Slowly he raised his hand, placing his fingers lightly around Fortune’s throat.

  “I have a question for you, Lord Fortune,” Hurdroth said.

  Fortune swallowed, his mouth dry. “Yes, your majesty.”

  Hurdroth's iron-hard fingers pressed against his throat. "When were you going to tell me about these weapons?"

  Fortune closed his eyes. So this was how it ended. With his throat crushed by a fool and a bully. He had tried hard to live an honorable life. Then the world shifted and everything came undone.

  At least he could go out with honor.

  He opened his eyes. "Honestly, I never had any intention of telling you," Fortune said, "All you would do with that kind of power is pillage and destroy. You're not worthy of your crown. Your father was a better man by far than you could ever hope to be. After Amaya's reign, he ruled justly for many years. You, sir, are a disgrace. If I had any spit left in my mouth I would hurl it in your eye."

  Hurdroth’s grip had neither tightened nor released during Fortune’s short speech. Fortune was disappointed. He had hoped to anger the man enough to kill him quickly. Luck was not running his way, it seemed.

  To his dismay, Hurdroth’s smile widened to a grin. “Have you decided you have nothing left to lose, Lord Fortune?” he asked.

  “Just my life,” Fortune said.

  “Your life is over, old man,” Hurdroth said. “Before the next dawn comes you will be dead. Your only choice is how quickly you die.”

  Fortune sighed. “Yes, I know. What do you want?”

  Hurdroth released the grip on his throat. He turned and went back to his throne, dropping himself heavily into it.

  “I want into that damned vessel,” Hurdroth said, “I want those weapons. And you would not be here if you didn’t think you could get them.”

  Hurdroth glared at him, but Fortune didn’t speak. He kept his eyes forward, careful not to look at the torturer sharpening his blades. How long would he be able to hold out?

  Not at all.

  “Well old man,” Hurdroth said, “Are you going to tell me or should I tell Lemberd to get to work on you?”

  The chief torturer got up and stepped closer. He ran his knives against each other and grinned. His teeth were broken and rotted. Fortune twisted at the ropes binding him. They cut painfully into his skin. “I am not able to get into it myself. Anta Vin and I tried long ago and failed.”

  Hurdroth drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. “You need a better answer than that.”

  Fortune cleared his throat. "Yes, Anta Vin and I came to the conclusion that only Amaya, or one of Amaya's blood, could access the weapons."

  "So you thought you would take the red-haired man, get the weapons and remove me from my throne?" Hurdroth asked. His voice was low and menacing.

  “Removing you from your throne was not my goal,” Fortune said, “I would have been happy just to keep them out of your hands.”

  A man burst into the tent. Half a dozen of Hurdroth’s soldiers leapt to their feet, weapons ready. The man collapsed to his knees, breathing hard, his hair dripping with sweat.

  “Sire, Hemsdell’s men have reached the ridge,” the man said, “We have engaged them and are driving them toward the canyon.”

  Hurdroth stood, clapping his hand. “Finally.” He waved his hand at Fortune and Dovd. “Bring them, maybe they’ll be useful after all.”

  Rough hands grabbed Fortune and pushed him toward the entrance. He was getting a terrible feeling he may have underestimated his King.

  Seventy-Five

  The Red Witch

  The Red Witch kneeled by the pattern engraved into the floor. The presence of the Captain loomed behind her. His musky scent was distracting, but she needed him to stand near.

  “So how does this thing work?” Captain Kelsey asked.

  “Magic,” The Red Witch said. She touched the pattern, looking for the trigger. Father had not left instructions for this portal. She knew it would be subtle, probably something only she would know.

  Professor Hennessy stepped forward. “I don’t think it’s magic,” he said, “This has to be some highly advanced technology. I would have loved to meet your father, ma’am.”

  “My father did not enjoy talking to fools,” The Red Witch said.

  Which probably wasn’t true. She remembered her father talking with people in the village. They seemed fools to her, but he was friendly with them all.

  She heard Professor Hennessy spin on his heel and march out of the room. Javanae must have been out of the room. She would have said something. Such social graces you have sister. Or something to that effect.

  “Sun’s going down, Red,” the Captain said, “You gonna figure this thing out?”

  She kept herself from telling him to shut up. She still needed him. There was no other way to get the–

  She stopped tracing the pattern. Of course. No random touch would open this portal. It would need a key. And there was only one place it would go.

  The Red Witch stood. “Are you ready?” she said to Captain Kelsey.

  He grinned at her. "I was born ready. Now, are we going to get this show on the road?"

  She reached over her shoulder and grasped Sonomorte. The blade pulled easily from the sheath with a whisper of metal on leather. The Captain took a step back, raising his eyebrows.

  The blade was surprisingly light. It moved through the air almost as if it were carrying its own weight. She could take the Captain’s head off with a flick of her wrist.

  She refrained.

  “What’s going on Red?” he asked.

  She held her free hand out. “Take my hand.”

  He didn’t hesitate. His big, meaty hand closed around hers, engulfing it. He had the muscles to crush hers in his grip, but she noted he held it gently. For all his arrogance, he was not a cruel person.

  The Red Witch heard footsteps at the door. She turned her head. Javanae stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself. The Red Witch expected to see hate in her face. Instead she saw sadness. Tears brimmed in her sister’s eyes.

  "Goodbye, dear sister," Javanae said, "I love you."

  The Red Witch didn’t know what to say. She felt a weight in her heart, like something had shifted.

  The world shifts, and shifts again.

  She gave Javanae a small nod and turned away. Her vision wavered as she blinked away the tears that tried to come. Damn the woman, trying to break her concentration.

  She tried not listen to the small voice inside her that asked if she would ever see her family again.

  “I have no family,” she said under her breath.

  That’s not true. Everything you are doing is because of family.

  Her hand tightened on the Captain’s. She lowered the point of the sword to the design in the floor. She touched it to the hidden teapot.

  The intricate design swirled, darkened. She and the Captain were pulled into it.

  Seventy-Six

  Joshua

  Joshua coughed. The smoke was getting thicker. The fires must be closer than they seemed. The sun was low in the sky as they worked their way down into the canyon. It painted everything blood red.

  “Are
you sure this is the right place?” he asked, “I can hardly see anything.”

  “Yes Joshua,” Kojanza said. She pointed at a large boulder ahead of them. It had a vertical split down the middle of it. The rock inside was red. “There are many of these rocks. They lead to the vessel.”

  So Grams left a trail of breadcrumbs. Of a sort anyway.

  He looked back. The other three crew members along with Vazsa and Cray were still back there. They all looked tired and cold. He adjusted Dr. Fran on his back.

  “You doing okay back there, Doc?” he asked.

  “Are we there yet?” she asked.

  “Like I told you the last fifty times you asked, no.”

  “But we’re getting close, right?”

  “Sure, you bet.”

  Dr. Fran gave him a light slap on the head. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “We are very close Dr. Fran,” Kojanza said.

  Joshua jumped. He hadn’t heard her come up to them. To call her stealthy was an understatement.

  He realized the ground under them was more or less flat. Somehow they had reached the valley floor. He stopped and let Dr. Fran down. He straightened up, stretching his aching back and arms.

  The fragrant wood smoke drifted around them, making his eyes sting. He had no idea how Kojanza was navigating through it. He realized she wasn’t beside him. He turned, looking. She was standing near the trunk of an ordinary sized pine tree. Apparently the giant redwoods didn’t grow in the canyon.

  He went over to her. She was stiff, staring off into the smoke. Slowly she moved her hand to the plasma rifle slung over her back. He went tense.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

  “We are not alone here,” Kojanza said.

  He crouched, pulling his own plasma rifle over his shoulder. He sniffed the air. The smoke was clogging his sinuses, but there was something. A faint scent. Familiar. Like...wet dog.

  His heart thudded in his chest. Hurdroth.

  Snow crunched behind him.

  “What is it?” Lou asked.

  “Someone else is out there,” He whispered, “I think it might be Hurdroth’s soldiers. Get everyone under cover. Have Dr. Fr–”

  Blue lighting crackled out of the smoke. It hit a nearby tree, exploding it.

  The force of it flung him backward, showering him with splinters.

  Ears ringing, he rolled through the icy snow. He came up with the plasma rifle aimed toward the source.

  Kojanza was already returning fire. Blue beams crackled out from her weapon. Lou was crouched now, firing with his rifle.

  From the smoke came another huge blast of lightning. It went over their heads, hitting another tree, exploding it.

  What the hell was it coming from?

  He crouch ran over to Kojanza. “What is that? Is it one of Amaya’s weapons?”

  She let off another blast from the rifle. “I do not know.”

  “I know what it is!” Lou shouted.

  “What?”

  Lighting forked to their left. It hit a boulder. It shattered. They flattened to the ground. Hot shards of rock pelted his back.

  “Look!” Lou said.

  Joshua raised his head. Through a gap in the smoke, he saw what looked like a giant metal hand mounted on a wooden cart. Soldiers were maneuvering it for another shot.

  “It’s one of Betsy’s plasma blasters,” Lou said, “Somehow those bastards got it working.”

  Crap. It was the equivalent of heavy artillery. He turned to Kojanza.

  “How far is the ship?” he asked.

  “Not far,” she said.

  He could hear voices now. Soldiers shouting to each other in the smoke. How many of them? Probably an entire army’s worth.

  He looked back toward the rest of the crew. They were mostly out of sight behind a boulder. Not that that was going to protect them. The blasted tree in front of him was burning merrily now. Now he had an explanation for how the fire spread so quickly.

  Not that it really mattered.

  Lou scrambled over to him. “What’s the plan, boss?”

  Boss? How had he gotten that job?

  Lighting sizzled overhead. Behind them another tree exploded.

  Joshua shook his head. There wasn’t time for introspection.

  “Get the others,” Joshua said to Kojanza. “Lou and I are going to try to take out that, um, big ass hand. Get them ready to make a run for the ship.”

  Kojanza slipped off into the smoke like a ghost. Joshua turned to Lou.

  “Okay, they had one giant plasma cannon, we have two little ones,” Joshua said, “There’s too many men for us to take out the crew. Where can we hit that thing to disable it?”

  Lou frowned, chewing at his lip. “We need to get closer. There’s a power module they have to be carrying separately since it was located in the forearm.”

  “So blow up the battery and no more lighting?”

  Lou shook his head. "No, the power module is armored. Our rifles couldn't get through it. But if we can sever the connection...it would buy us some time, at least."

  It sounded like a terrible plan. Joshua couldn’t think of anything better, so he nodded.

  He and Lou crept forward, keeping low. The lightning blasts had stopped for the moment. He could hear men shouting and hammering on metal. Had the thing broken down? Maybe he and Lou could–

  Cold metal touched his neck. A wave of wet dog smell hit him.

  “Move and I’ll take your head off,” a rough voice said.

  Joshua’s eyes darted toward Lou. Two bearded warriors had swords to his neck. Where had they come from?

  “Been waiting for you a long time,” the warrior behind the blade at Joshua’s neck said, “You’ve been more than a bit of trouble, you know?”

  The voice was familiar.

  “Now drop that little toy of yours and stand up. Slow.”

  Joshua let go of the plasma rifle and got to his feet, making no sudden movements. The icy blade at his neck moved with him. He looked at the warrior.

  “You’ve grown up a bit since I saw you last,” the man said.

  Joshua gave a small sigh. It was Rangor. The warrior whose cave he had run into for shelter after he first arrived in this world.

  Rangor smiled, the fuzz of his face parting, revealing rows of yellow, uneven teeth. "Have you missed me?"

  Snow crunched behind him.

  The rest of the crew came into view, surrounded by more bearded men with sharp objects. Joshua’s eyes darted over them. Where was Kojanza? Had one of the soldiers killed her?

  It seemed unlikely. He hadn't heard anything. There was no way she would have gone down without taken several of them with her.

  Ranger pulled his ax away from Joshua's neck. "Come on, let's take you to the King," he said, "Maybe this time I'll get a reward for finding you."

  Seventy-Seven

  Joshua

  Rangor led them to a small clearing filled with soldiers and tents. Dirty men in heavy armor, stinking of sweat and damp leather, were gathering at one end. Joshua looked back at the crew behind him. Lou and Vazsa were stone-faced. Their eyes darted about, assessing their possibilities for escape. Which didn't look good at the moment. Pete, Tony and Dr. Fran looked grim. They probably expected to die soon. The only one who looked unconcerned was the kid, Cray.

  “The King still in his tent?” Rangor asked a passing soldier.

  “Fuck if I know where that crazy bastard is,” the soldier said.

  Rangor watched the man hustle away. “Well. Guess we’ll check the tent first then.”

  More men in armor sped past them. Rangor grabbed one by the arm. “What’s going on?”

  “Hemsdell’s on the ridge, coming down fast,” the man said. He yanked his arm away.

  “The ridge is the other way,” Rangor said, “Why are you running this way? It’s a box canyon, remember? No way out.”

  The man gave him a sour look. “Go tell it to his majesty. It’s his brilliant idea.”
>
  The man ran off. Rangor watched him go, scratching his beard.

  “Maybe I will,” Rangor said.

  Joshua looked about the camp. It seemed to be in disarray. People were scrambling to pull things down and pack them up. Where was the King planning to go? Even he knew backing yourself into a corner with no exit was poor strategy.

  Rangor shoved him toward the large tent in the middle of camp. “King just hasn’t been the same since he got caught by Hemsdell that one time,” he said, “Seems a bit possessed if you ask me.”

  Joshua didn’t know how to reply to that. Well, he did. You’re all pretty fricking crazy, if you ask me. It didn’t seem wise to speak it aloud at the moment.

  Before they could take another step, the flaps of the tent were flung aside and King Hurdroth strode out. The scowl on his face sent people scurrying out of the way. Behind him, two familiar faces appeared.

  Lord Fortune and Dovd.

  “Dovd!” Vazsa screamed.

  Before Joshua could move, she was shooting past him. The King’s guard were slow to react, too. Fortunately for them, Vazsa had a different target.

  Dovd barely got his hands up before she hit him like a runaway truck. They went down to the dirty snow in a heap of flying fists and feet. She ended up on top of him, pounding his face with her hands.

  Joshua noted no one seemed concerned about the fight. Many of the men were laughing. He glanced at Rangor. The big warrior seemed to be enjoying the spectacle. Joshua took a step away.

  Rangor’s hand shot out. “Oh no you don’t,” he said.

  Joshua realized someone else had seen him. The King was striding toward him.

  “You!”

  Joshua put on a smile and straightened up. “Hey your majesty, how’s things?”

  The King grabbed his coat and pulled him close. The King had crazy eyes. Joshua suspected somewhere along the way the man had become unhinged.

  “You’re going to get me into that vessel,” Hurdroth said, “And then you’re going to die.”