The Broken Reign

by Jeremy Michelson

  "Milady, allow me to introduce myself," he said, "I am General Tevyon Hemsdell. The Kingship of this land is currently experiencing a regime change. I was just finishing up my acquisition of it."

  “He is not King!” Hurdroth shouted, “I am the one and only King of this world.”

  The King strode forward, his sword raised. He stood face to face with Hemsdell.

  “I shall run you through before the mighty Queen Amaya and this shall be ended once and for all.”

  Amaya slammed the point of her sword against the rock. The earth shook and the clang of metal echoed off the canyon walls. She held out the silver teapot.

  “Either of you shitheads know what the fuck this is?” she asked.

  Hemsdell smiled and smoothed back his hair. "Milady, it appears to be a lovely teapot. If you would like to make us some tea that would be appreciated."

  Amaya’s sword flashed out. It was so fast Joshua wasn’t sure he’d even seen it move.

  Hemsdell continued to smile. His eyes went glassy. A moment later his head tumbled from his body, bouncing off the rocks with a hollow sound. His body collapsed in a heap.

  Amaya turned her night filled eyes to Hurdroth. His body visibly shook and trembled.

  “All right, your turn,” she said, “You know what the fuck this is, moron?”

  “It is the symbol of the treaty,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Joshua realized the King wasn’t trembling from fear. He was enraged.

  “Wrong. This is the treaty,” Amaya said, “Say hello to the kitty.”

  The lid of the teapot popped open. A furry white head appeared.

  “Merp,” the cat said. The cat sniffed the air. “Me-merp.”

  It licked its paw and rubbed its head.

  “I never agreed to the treaty,” Hurdroth said.

  “Your father did,” Amaya said, “The treaty is bound by blood. Which means you’re bound by it. Whether you think you agree or not, shithead.”

  “No!” Hurdroth raised his sword. “I am not bound by any treaty, and no woman shall speak to me thus.”

  Hurdroth lunged at Amaya, swinging his sword.

  She didn’t even try to get out of the way. Her sword flashed out again. One, two strokes.

  Hurdroth fell, pieces of him dropping to the ground with wet plops.

  The remaining soldiers gasped. Murmurs ran through the crowd.

  Amaya looked up. Men cowered before her gaze. “Anyone else want to be king?” she asked.

  No one stepped forward.

  She twirled the sword with one hand and slid it into the sheath on her back. She turned, scanning the crowd. She stopped.

  “Fortune. Get your scrawny old ass over here.”

  Fortune? Joshua’s anger rose. The old man had almost gotten him killed more than once. Was he finally going to get what he deserved?

  Lord Fortune shuffled through the crowd, his head bowed. The men parted, clearing his path. Joshua saw the dog man hanging back several steps behind him. Fortune stopped before Amaya and dropped to his knees, prostrating himself before her.

  "Forgive me, my Queen," he said, "I kept the treaty as best I could."

  “Right, that’s why there’s a huge fucking army having a gang bang out here,” Amaya said.

  "I have been a pawn in this, your majesty," Fortune said, "I never wanted any of this. I never had ambitions other than to rule justly over my family's land. But I apologize to you. I beg mercy for an old man. I have lost all that was dear to me except for my brother. I know that means little to you. I humbly accept your judgment."

  "You always were a smooth one," Amaya said, "You're off the hook for now. Now, where's my dog boy?"

  The dog man, Yord, crawled forward. He whined and shivered.

  “Come on, come here, Yord,” she said. He came up to her. She crouched and scratched him behind the ears. “Who’s a good dog? Who’s a good doggie woggie?”

  Yord groaned and his leg thumped the ground.

  Joshua rubbed his face. Was this really happening?

  Amaya gave Yord one more pat on the head and stood. “All right. Since none of you assholes managed to follow my instructions, here’s what we’re going to do,” she said. “Yord here is your new King.”

  The crowd murmured, looking to one another.

  “He’s going to be your king for a long, long time,” she said, “So you better be nice to him.”

  Joshua’s mind was reeling. Grams was going to make the dog man king? Was it some sort of joke?

  The crowd seemed to be wondering the same thing. The murmuring was growing louder.

  “What if we don’t want a dog for a King?” someone called out.

  Amaya laughed. It was a sound that chilled Joshua’s bones. And a lot of other people’s bones. There wasn’t a sound from the crowd after her laughter finished echoing off the canyon walls.

  “Do you really think a dog could be any worse than the idiots you were following before?” she asked.

  No one said anything. Sullen, downturned faces were the only reply.

  Amaya looked down at Yord, who still cowered on the ground.

  “Come on, get up, doggie,” she said, “Time to face your subjects.”

  Slowly, his body shaking, Yord stood.

  There was a rustling around them as hundreds of men shuffled and stirred. They looked at one another in silence.

  Joshua considered asking Grams if she really thought this was going to work. He held his tongue. Her very presence radiated power and menace. He glanced at the pieces of Hurdroth and Hemsdell, piled on the steaming ground. Maybe he’d ask her later.

  “Stand tall, Yord,” Amaya said. Her voice boomed out, echoing against the canyon walls. She held up the teapot to the sky. “You are now King of all this world. From this day forth, your rule is law. No one may raise their hand against you without facing my wrath. May you rule forever justly and with kindness to all your subjects.”

  Yord trembled, his eyes darting left and right. “Rrrrrowlf! M-m-my Queen, p-p-p-Bark!-please do not do this. I am n-n-n-Rarf!-not worthy.”

  “Sure you are,” Amaya said, “You more worthy than any of these other assholes. Here, this is yours now.”

  She thrust the silver teapot in his hands. Yord's eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open.

  “Be nice to the kitty,” Amaya said.

  She turned to the soldiers.

  “Ok. I want all of you dumbfucks, numbnuts and shitheads to go home and spread the word. Yord the dog is your new King. There will be no more fighting tolerated,” she said. “Seriously. If I hear any more war talk, I am going to come find you. I will rip you out of your bed and kill all your family and burn your house down. Then I’ll shove my blade up your ass and roast you over the flames.”

  Amaya put her hands on her hips. Her expression was fierce. Joshua had no doubt she meant every word she said. Grams, I never knew this side of you. Not that he ever wanted to.

  “Any questions?” Amaya asked.

  Silence.

  Every man seemed to be holding his breath again. Joshua made himself exhale and breath.

  “No? Good. Now get the fuck out of here. Go become farmers or blacksmiths or doctors or something useful. But no lawyers! Any of you become lawyers I’ll make you eat your own entrails. Got it?”

  Some of the men nodded. Most just stood there with sullen or terrified expressions.

  Amaya made shooing motions with her hands. “Go, vamoose, you morons! Get out of here before I lose my sense of humor.”

  The soldiers started moving away, flowing away into the darkness. They receded from Amaya like an outgoing tide.

  Amaya turned her night filled gaze to Joshua. His heart skipped a beat.

  Ninety

  Vazsa

  “I can’t hold it!” Captain Kelsey shouted.

  His fingers pounded the drive controls, but the ship still fell toward the red whirlpool in front of them.

  Beside him, Vazsa tried to feed more power to th
e grav engine and the thrusters.

  She tried not to think of Lou, still lying on the deck beside her. She could hear the doctor working on him, but didn’t dare take her eyes from the controls.

  “Cap!” Pete shouted, “AI is coming back online!”

  “Shit, is that good or bad?” the Captain said under his breath.

  The ship bucked, its frame groaning as it twisted in the atmosphere.

  Vazsa gasped as the controls on the console flowed away from her hands.

  “Crap! My screens are gone!” Tony shouted.

  “Mine, too!” Pete said.

  Beside her, the Captain was swearing and pounding on the console.

  She looked up. The red whirlpool filled almost the entire screen now.

  The ship leveled out and the vibrations stopped. The bleeting sound stopped and the red lights went away.

  “Destination?” the ship’s smooth voice asked.

  “Where can we go?” the Captain asked.

  “Where do you want to go?”

  He looked at his crew. Their faces were strained and tired. Vazsa imagined her face was much the same.

  “Home,” the Captain said, his voice weary, “I want to go home.”

  “Understood,” the ship said.

  The ship dove into the red whirlpool.

  Ninety-One

  Joshua

  “Do you want to go home, Joshie?” Amaya asked.

  Joshua opened his mouth to speak. He didn’t know what to say.

  The battlefield was empty now, just a darkened expanse of trampled snow. The stench of blood still lingered in the air. The new King, Yord the dog man, stood nearby, along with Lord Fortune.

  He looked to Kojanza. Her bright blue eyes met his.

  He knew his answer.

  “Home is wherever Kojanza is, Grams,” he said.

  Kojanza put her arms around him and squeezed him. So tight his ribs creaked. He'd be happy to put up with that for the rest of his life.

  Amaya nodded, a smile on her lips. “Good answer, boy,” she said, “Now I have a very important job for you.”

  Joshua’s blood ran cold. “Wait just a second Grams...”

  Amaya touched the front of her black armor. A white line of light ran down her torso. “But first, let me take care of this.”

  There was a whine of motors. The line of light expanded. Joshua raised his hand to shield his eyes from the brightness.

  Amaya pulled something from within the light (within her?). With a shock, he realized it was a naked human. A woman.

  The woman's head rolled over and he recognized her. It was the red-haired woman who had appeared by the ship. The Red Witch, as she called herself. It had to be less than an hour since she went with the others in the ship. But it seemed like a lifetime ago.

  “How did she...”

  “Let’s just call it magic, Joshie, shall we?” Amaya said.

  Her armor closed up, sealing off the light. The naked woman in her arms stirred.

  “It’s not magic, Grams,” he said, “It’s–”

  “Quiet, Joshie,” Amaya said.

  He shut his mouth.

  “Yord, come here,” Amaya said.

  The Dog King stumbled over, his body shivering. Amaya placed the woman in his arms.

  "Take good care of her. She's been through a lot," Amaya said, "I'll be back for her later. Eventually"

  Yord bowed his head and backed away. Amaya turned back to Joshua and Kojanza.

  “Ok kids. You ready?”

  She touched the front of her armor again. The white line appeared.

  “Wait, Grams, I’m not sure–”

  “Oh, I forgot,” Amaya said. She whistled.

  Hooves clip-clopped out of the darkness, followed by the sound of breaking wind. Joshua twisted around. A horse with a white ring around its eyes trotted up to them.

  “Oh come on, Grams. You can’t seriously–”

  A red whirlwind appeared out of the light streaming from Amaya.

  They fell into it.

  Ninety-Two

  Lord Fortune

  Lord Fortune blinked, then blinked again. Spots danced before his eyes. The Queen was gone. Swallowed in a red whirlwind of light along with the red-haired man and his woman.

  The battlefield was empty, but for him, Yord and the naked woman in Yord’s arms. And of course the bodies of Hemsdell and Hurdroth. The tang of their blood made him wrinkle his nose.

  Yord turned away and walked toward the forest. Fortune hurried after him. His body protested with dozens of aches and pains. He ignored them as best he could.

  “Wait, Yord, where are you going?” Fortune said.

  “T-t-t-Bark!-time to get back home,” Yord said.

  “But...but Bramblevine is gone, destroyed,” Fortune said.

  “B-b-b-Bark!-build new one,” Yord said, “Rowlf! King now. M-m-m-Rarf!-make it happen.”

  Fortune stopped. Within the forest, he saw dozens of torches. Yord kept walking.

  “Yord, wait!” Fortune said.

  “Bark! It’s okay,” Yord said.

  Fortune followed, heart hammering in his chest. As he approached the trees he saw faces behind the torches. Stern, dusky-skinned faces. Forest people. Whose side were they on now?

  Yord stopped in front of a group of them, men and women. The women took the naked girl from his arms, wrapping her in fur cloaks. Fortune scanned the faces, looking for one he knew.

  In his halting, barking words, Yord was giving the forest people orders. Fortune looked up at his brother. Yord was standing taller now, his bearing more regal. He seemed to become more kingly with each word.

  A young boy stepped up to Yord.

  “King Yord, I am Cray, grandson of Anta Vin,” the boy said, “On behalf of my people, I pledge allegiance to you.”

  The boy couldn’t have been more than ten, but his gaze was that of a man. Somewhere in his journey of life, the boy had seen too much.

  “C-c-c-Rowlf!-Cray, grandson of Bark! Anta Vin, do you have the Rarf! right to speak for your people?”

  “He does.”

  Another man stepped forward. With a shock, Fortune realized it was Dovd. The man’s face was still bloody and puffy from the blows he had received. He kneeled and bowed to Yord.

  “Your majesty, I am Dovd, former leader of the forest people,” he said. “I relinquish any claim I had to leadership. I ask for mercy and forgiveness for the things I have done.”

  Yord studied him for a few moments. “D-d-d-Bark!-Dovd of the forest people, I do not Rarf! have the power to grant forgiveness,” Yord said, “But you shall have mercy Bark! for as long as you shall promise never to harm another human.”

  Dovd nodded, head still bowed. "I promise your majesty. Never again shall I raise my hand against another." He held out his open hands. "My hands are empty, now and forever."

  “Get up then, Bark! Dovd of the forest people,” Yord said, “Your people need you.”

  Dovd rose and backed away. Cray stepped forward. He took Yord’s hand.

  “Come, your majesty,” he said, “We will help you get home.”

  Yord smiled. “Wherever my people are is home–Bark!” he said.

  They walked deeper into the trees. Fortune hesitated. Other forest people came up to him. They put gentle hands on him and led him after the others.

  “You are welcome, too,” one of the women said, “It is a new age. Welcome peace to all.”

  Fortune thought of the bodies on the battlefield. Lives sacrificed for nothing but another man’s ambition. He felt a weight lift from his heart. Maybe this time evil would stay away.

  Peace was always welcome in his heart.

  Ninety-Three

  Joshua

  The red whirlpool of light roared around Joshua. He held tight to Kojanza as it tore at them.

  Without warning the light was gone. They tumbled to the ground.

  Fresh, sweet smelling grass cushioned their fall. Joshua blinked, looking up at a blue sky. Puffy w
hite clouds drifted far overhead. The air was warm and sweat popped on his skin under his leather armor.

  Kojanza lay next to him, their arms still wrapped around each other. He stared into her eyes, bluer than the sky above. A slight smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

  A horse whinnied. Followed by an enormous blast of flatulence.

  “Phew, what is wrong with that horse?” Grams said.

  Joshua turned his head. Grams was standing a few feet away, still in full Queen Amaya mode. Body encased in jet black armor. Long, blood red hair flowing over her shoulders and down her back. And set in her pale face, those scary, night filled eyes.

  “Why did you bring it then, Grams?” Joshua asked.

  She put her armored hands on her hips with a clank of metal on metal.

  “You’ll need it,” she said, “Get up, I don’t have all day.” she chuckled. A rather unsettling chuckle. “Well, actually I do, but that’s beside the point.”

  He got to his feet, giving a hand to Kojanza, pulling her up, too. The bag she had over her shoulder slipped. He caught it. Noticed something familiar poking out.

  One of the scrolls.

  The scrolls Vazsa had stolen from Hurthoth’s castle. That he had sort of stolen from her.

  He glanced up at Kojanza.

  “Yeah, you’ll need those too,” Grams said, “Good thing for you she brought them.”

  He looked around. They were standing on a grassy hill. A small distance down the hill was an ancient oak tree. It spread its branches out, reaching for the sky. A gentle breeze rustled its leaves, bringing him its green scent.

  Off in the distance, there was a jagged, snow-capped mountain range. Before the mountains was a large, blackened plain. Spots of green sprouted in areas of it, but for the most part it looked dead.

  A huge gorge separated the hill they stood on and the blackened plain. The reddish-brown rocks of the sheer sides reminded him of dried blood. He shuddered and turned to Grams.

  “Okay, we’re still on Seivar somewhere,” he said. “Why?”