Broken Crown

by Drae Box

  “Who would do this?”

  “It’s gotta be another royal official. We can break through the wall. I doubt it’s a thick one. One good blast of a fireball should do the trick.”

  Please don’t, thought Raneth as he eased back from the wall.

  “Don’t do that. Zakia will have your balls, you idiot.”

  “True. Fine. We charge on three and kill anything that moves. Got it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Raneth jerked back into position by the wall and waited, his throwing daggers in his hands, their points aimed away from him, ready for a quick stab.

  The first Brethren stepped into the room. Raneth spun on the spot and slammed the blades into the Brethren’s chest. Jab. Jab. Jab. He yanked them free and kicked the dying Brethren out of the way.

  The second Brethren rushed at Raneth, a blade in his hand. Raneth jumped to the side, missing the blade as he twirled aside. The third Brethren entered the room. Two against one. Not too bad. Raneth flicked his wrists. One of the throwing daggers hit its target, and the Brethren nearest Raneth fell to the ground, choking as bloody bubbles burst from his throat, the throwing dagger in his neck. The remaining Brethren picked up Raneth’s throwing dagger and shoved it into his belt.

  “Come get me,” he snarled at Raneth, turning his palms towards him.

  Raneth shook his head. “Nah, you come here, criminal.”

  “I’m not a criminal.”

  “You’re helping a criminal rule the kingdom illegally.”

  The Brethren’s eyebrows rose. “I know you, you’re Ra–” An icicle sliced into the man’s left eye and he fell onto his back.

  Let’s hope there’s not too many more of those, thought Raneth as he peered back out into the corridor. Sweat was creeping down his back from the exertion of using his gift so often without much recent practise. Just as well I’ve mastered it, otherwise I’d be in a worse position, he thought as he retrieved his throwing daggers. He stepped out into the hallway. Multiple bangs erupted above his head. Raneth fell to the ground and covered his head with his arms. As the bangs quietened, the royal official looked up at the ceiling. Small holes smoked at the edges. The gunmen. He was lucky they were firing blindly from the floor above. Raneth climbed to his feet and ploughed forwards.

  “Crash and bang? That’s your idea for getting in here?” called a familiar voice. “You an idiot or something?”

  Rider. But where? Raneth continued up the corridor, drawing one of his throwing daggers. As the gunmen fired into the corridor behind him from above, the Bayre gave a mild smile. He grabbed the next door handle and shoved the door open. He peeked inside. Nobody there. Weird. I should be being challenged a bit more than this.

  “I’m in the kitchen. Bit tied up,” called Rider. “Come help me, idiot.”

  Raneth smiled. Some things never change. “Coming, Rider. Hold on!”

  Suddenly, a door opened at his side and a sword sliced towards his head. Raneth ducked and jabbed a throwing dagger into the attacker’s thigh and pulled down. The woman, a Guardsman, screamed and fell backwards as she tried to pull away. Raneth yanked the blade free and sprinted further down the corridor. Another door opened and he jerked back as a crossbow clanged at him. The bolt sliced into the wall just next to his wrist. Raneth pounced. The crossbow’s owner stumbled and fell back into the room as Raneth’s body crashed against theirs, rendering the crossbow useless. Raneth smashed his fists into the attacker’s face, keeping his fingers wrapped around his throwing dagger’s hilt, then climbed to his feet.

  “Don’t move,” growled a female voice at his side.

  Raneth looked up with just his eyes. Damn. A gun.

  “You’ll drop those weapons of yours and get rid of the other ones at your waist, then move over to the window and put your hands on your head.”

  “Or?” asked Raneth.

  “It doesn’t take a genius to know what or would be,” stated the woman, jabbing the gun’s nose towards the window in two sharp movements before realigning it on Raneth.

  Raneth nodded and slowly climbed to his feet. He dropped the throwing dagger onto the ground then jerked at the gunwoman. He grabbed the gun and aimed the muzzle upwards as he smashed his forehead against hers. They both stepped back from each other. Raneth jabbed an elbow into the woman’s gun wrist, still holding the gun with his other hand. The wrist broke and he wrenched the gun free of her hand, then turned and aimed it towards the woman. Now’s not a good time to make it obvious I have no idea how to use these, decided Raneth. But what else can I do? He watched the red-headed female take a wary step back from him, cradling her broken wrist to her chest.

  “Stay here so I don’t have to shoot you,” he stated, trying to sound calmer than the beating of his heart.

  She nodded, but as Raneth peeked back out into the corridor, the woman snarled and jumped onto his back, wrapping her good arm around his throat. The royal official fell to his back and rolled, throwing the gun at the window. The window smashed and belched out glass and the gun into the garden. He smashed his elbow into the woman’s kidney. She gasped as her hold loosened. Raneth rolled from her and leapt to his feet. He spun around and kicked her side, aiming for her other kidney, before darting from the room and back into the corridor.

  “Rider, where am I going?” I didn’t plan to rescue you too, you dumb moron.

  “Kitchen. End of the corridor. I can fight.”

  Oh. Well, that makes this a little better.

  Raneth hunkered low as the gunfire from above started up again, this time smashing into the floor of the corridor in front of him. Damn it. Any closer and they’ll start hitting me. He eyed the holes above and in front of him then shoved his palms up towards them. White mist swarmed through the holes and Raneth closed his eyes, watching as his Common Gift of Ice painted out where the two gunmen were in relation to him. Gotcha. Raneth imagined the mist exploding into tiny shards of ice towards the two gunmen, and listened as his gift did exactly as he wanted.

  His temples throbbed and his boots squeaked as he sprinted into the kitchen. He grabbed for the nearest counter to stop his slide. Rider, a fellow royal official and one of Raneth’s dearest friends, was tied to all four legs of a table near the centre of the kitchen. On the nearest work surface was an array of small knives, bolt cutters and a few other items. Homemade torture kit, realised Raneth. “Rider, are you OK?” he asked. His friend didn’t look bloody. Maybe they hadn’t started on him yet.

  “Yeah.” Rider grinned up at him. If it had been any of the other royal officials he knew, Raneth would have been worried at the grin, but Rider was always grinning about something. The man loved being a royal official, finding bad guys and besting his personal records. It probably helped Rider had spent most of his childhood in the Barbaric East, where the culture focused more heavily on bloodshed both as a sport and as a way to resolve conflict. It was no wonder Rider excelled.

  Raneth grabbed a throwing dagger and sliced into the ropes that held Rider in place. “The woman do this to you?”

  “The Mening? Yeah. She wants to know where you are for Denzel. And I think she has the hots for you. When did you get to Green?” asked Rider, his accent heavy with Eastern Barbarian.

  “Before dawn,” said Raneth. The last rope fell to the ground and he pulled Rider to a standing position. “You sure you can fight?”

  “Just give me some weapons,” replied Rider.

  “Take what you want,” offered Raneth, turning and facing the window where the patrolling Guardsman had been visible before. Where’d he go? He ignored the tug and pull of Rider as his friend drew his sword.

  “You’re running low,” stated Rider, grabbing three of the smaller knives from the work surface. He shoved each into the back of his belt.

  “You’re in full uniform,” stated Raneth. “Idiot today?”

  “Bossy today?” parried Rider. “I’ve got your back, bro. What are we doing?”

  “Killing the Mening and rescuing Aldora,” said Rane
th. “Thane said Aldora would be on the ground floor somewhere. I haven’t checked all the rooms yet.”

  Rider nodded. “Lead the way. At the very least, I want a slice of Zakia. I was killing plenty of Guardsmen until she showed up and knocked me out with a chair.”

  They strode out into the corridor, stopping short as a woman barred it with her body.

  “That’s her,” stated Rider. “Zakia the Mening.”

  Zakia smirked then darted into a side room. Raneth glanced down at the throwing dagger in his hand and eyed Rider’s belt. He plucked one of the other throwing daggers from his belt, leaving only one spare. Then he entered the room Zakia had ducked into, and prowled towards the sofa and the Mening. He noticed a table at the back of the room with paper splayed across it.

  The Mening stepped back from the sofa, laying claim to the centre of the room. “You get out of this alive and Denzel will be baying for your blood, boys.”

  “He already is,” replied Rider. “That’s why I’m going to kill him.”

  “Then come kill me. I dare you.”

  Rider lurched forwards a step, but Raneth shoved an arm into his path. “Wait,” he said.

  Rider huffed but gave a nod.

  “Zakia,” uttered Raneth. “Before we fight, I need to know if you know anything about the location of the Kingdom’s Shield.”

  “Denzel will know.”

  “Where is he right now?” asked Rider.

  “You’ll have to pry that from my dying lips, if you can.” Zakia smiled.

  “Can I?” asked Rider, looking at Raneth hopefully.

  “No. You’re too eager. You’ll get yourself hurt. Guard the door and step in if I start losing.”

  Rider snickered. “OK, boss.”

  Zakia drew her curved blades from her belt as Raneth advanced slowly upon her. She started to circle. Old style, but effective, noted Raneth. He copied her foot movements, prowling in a circle around her. I’ll wait for her to strike first. Holding the two short blades ready, he watched her intently, noticing every tiny twitch of her brown eyes and her hands. Her eyes jerked to his groin. Raneth leapt back. The blades sliced through the air in front of him and she twirled as she advanced, still slicing at the air.

  Blooming heck! Raneth ducked, hooked his ankle around hers and tugged. She twisted and jumped out of the ankle lock, and sliced at Raneth’s face, but he spun away and sliced a blade into her side.

  She didn’t even slow. She swung her blades low, aiming for Raneth’s thighs. The royal official ran back a few steps then flung one of his blades towards her face. She flinched, yanking her head to the side and letting the blade sail past. It sliced into the wall beside Rider.

  “Just let her get close to me, I don’t mind,” muttered Rider.

  “Shut up. She’s fast.”

  “I know,” grumbled Rider, looking more than a little annoyed.

  Raneth watched as Zakia prowled towards him, her blades by her sides. She’s a hack-and-slasher, he determined. All I need to do is get close enough for a few more stabs into her torso, and she’ll die from blood loss if she keeps this up. The faster I can get her heart to pump, the better too. Raneth backstepped towards the table and grabbed some of the paperwork. He scrunched it up with his free hand and threw the ball at Zakia, but she batted it away with a blade and then stood, waiting, just out of arm’s reach.

  This is going to take longer than I’d like. Raneth eyed the blood already running down her side. But she’s going to start slowing down with that wound anyway. He jammed a palm towards her. The white mist flew at her, but clattered to the ground as tiny specks of ice when it neared her skin. What the heck? Raneth eyed her warily. What did she do? She’s not even a Giften. She can’t have a gift that prevents my attacks. And I don’t feel sick, so that wasn’t magic. He eyed her neck. A choker sat there, with the familiar copper tinge of anti-gift metal entwined with two slithers of silver that twirled around it. Anti-gift metal. Of course!

  Rider crept closer. Realising what he was planning on doing, Raneth made sure to lock eyes with Zakia. He jabbed at her chest, helping to keep her occupied. She twirled to the side but paused, facing Rider.

  “Cheeky,” she uttered.

  Raneth stabbed her between two of her ribs and drew his throwing dagger free. Rider kicked the Mening’s face and Raneth darted to the side to avoid her falling into him. She slammed her head against the table and slumped to the carpet. When Raneth nudged her with the toe of his right boot, she didn’t react.

  “Great job, Rider,” he muttered sarcastically. “You knocked her out. We won’t get any information out of her before she dies.”

  “Thanks.” Rider purposefully gave Raneth a large grin. “Now let’s get out of here.”

  “Not yet,” said Raneth. He returned to the corridor and looked down it towards the few doors that hadn’t opened to launch opponents against him. “I have to grab Aldora first.”

  Rider looked at Raneth warily. “You realise she’s probably a member of Broken Crown, right?”

  “She’s not. She has some dumb ideas about talking to that uncle of hers, but she’s not on their team.”

  “OK. But if I think she is, I’ll–”

  “Not interfere with my love life,” stated Raneth firmly.

  “I was going to say kill her for you.”

  Raneth gave him a look. “You’re serious,” he stated when he noticed that Rider wasn’t flashing his usual toothy grin.

  Rider nodded.

  Just what I need – Rider wanting to kill Aldora to protect me. This is going to get complicated fast. “No killing her unless I decide she’s a traitor, OK?”

  “To you or the Three Ks?”

  “Three Ks,” confirmed Raneth. “If she betrays me, that’s a Bayre matter, OK?”

  Rider sighed. “Fine,” he grumbled.

  Raneth grabbed the handle of the nearest closed door and thrust it open. On the other side was Thane, smiling at him, with the dead bodies of a Guardsman and a Brethren on the floor between him and Aldora.

  “Aldora, time to go,” said Raneth.

  “Raneth, I’m sor–” Aldora glanced at Rider as she drew close. “Who’s this?”

  “Later,” urged Raneth. “Let’s go, before someone I haven’t found yet finds us instead.”

  Chapter Ten

  Aldora

  Following Raneth and the other royal official out of the building, Aldora was quiet. She watched Raneth’s gait to ensure he wasn’t hurt, and Thane brought up the rear.

  “Raneth, what I said. About you. That you were. That you were just proving–”

  He looked at her over his shoulder. “It’s fine, A.” He didn’t say anything else. Was it really fine? On the street, he’d nearly cried when she’d said monster.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  He didn’t bother looking at her this time. “I have bigger things to worry about,” he said. “Like where’s the Dagger now? I know Thane had it earlier.”

  Aldora glanced at Thane, who smiled at her. What game was the Master Frey playing with them? “There was another guy in the room Thane and I were in. A man called Adharma. He left with the Dagger as soon as all the noise started. The Mening said he was taking it to Denzel in Icoque and he said something about a repurposed factory that they’re using as their headquarters.” She jerked a thumb at the other royal official as Raneth looked at her. “Who’s this?” she asked.

  “Royal Official Rider Catagowli. He got himself caught.”

  Aldora eyed the unfamiliar royal official as he frowned at her. He was more muscular than Raneth, though a little shorter, and his skin was darker too, much darker. Can a royal official be that dark? He’s clearly not Giften. She frowned at Raneth, wondering if she could get away with asking that question.

  “Heard a lot about you, Dagger Bearer,” stated Rider, his accent revealing that he definitely wasn’t from Giften. “Raneth and I see each other as brothers, even though we’re not related… He talks about you a lot.�
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  That sounds like a Barbaric lilt he’s got. They fell silent as they dodged Guardsmen and Brethren patrolling the streets. They didn’t seem to know about what Raneth had done to Zakia. Maybe they don’t, Aldora reasoned. It’s not like they were all there.

  When they reached the front of Ali’s, they stopped walking.

  “I’ll just be a second.” Raneth looked to his royal official colleague as he knocked on the door. “I’m just grabbing our bags and saying bye to Ali.” He pointed at Thane and the six Followers who had fallen into step behind them. “Watch them. Protect Aldora.”

  “Raneth, I don’t–”

  The Bayre ignored Aldora as Ali let him in. “I’m not staying,” she heard him warn Ali as he shut the door.

  Aldora looked at Rider. “How long have you been a royal official?” Maybe he’s a newbie?

  “A few years, since 2001. I love it. I’m at top rank, like your boyfriend.”

  How? If he got caught, he can’t be that good, surely? Raneth basically ran into that house earlier and let all weapons come at him and still walked out.

  “Why do you like Raneth?” asked Rider.

  Aldora looked at Thane only to find he was curiously waiting for her answer too. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  The royal official snorted. “Typical.” He folded his arms as he watched her. “You said they’re using a factory. There’s a lot of industrial estates over there. Did they say if it was Hemdar, Moeni, Roseshadow, Katier, Suncrest?”

  “Zakia told someone to prepare a package for Suncrest. Number…” She frowned. What number had Zakia told that Guardsmen? “Number…”

  Rider grabbed her by her arms and shook her. “Think.”

  “Let go. How am I supposed to… Sixteen. It’s sixteen.”

  “This way,” ordered Thane as he led them some time later into an old building in the city’s industrial estate. It was a small building, made of grey breeze blocks instead of proper bricks or sheets of metal, nestled between two more buildings made of metal. They creaked as the cooling air rushed through the capital city.