by C. K. Rieke
She reached into a deep sack at her side, and Lilaci felt Gogenanth and the others grip their swords tighter, ready for a fight. Again, she calmed them with a wave of her hand. They watched as the emissary pulled out a bundle of six unlit torches from the wide bag. Six of the Queensguard walked over to her and took one each from her grip.
“What’re they doing?” Fewn asked, her eyes darting around at the surrounding guards.
“I don’t know,” Burr said, “but I don’t like it. Might be bad magic.”
Then the emissary took out a flint and steel of dark metal and hit the two so a spark flew from it. Not a normal spark though, one with a blue hue. She hit it again so the sparks fell onto the first torch, and it quickly lit in a glowing blue blaze. The knight holding the torch quickly lit the five others, and the knights went back to their ranks.
Lilaci noticed Gogenanth and Ezmerelda took their hands from their weapons, and he even crossed his arms and feigned a wry smile.
“What is it?” Fewn asked him. “What’re you doing?”
“I know what that blue flame represents,” he said. “Watch, they’re going to encircle us.” And just as if he was the conductor of their chorus, the knights went out to walk completely around them.
“What is this?” Burr said, unsheathing his sword and holding it out straight at the emissary. “Speak. There’s not too many of you to take down. We just fought more than a handful of full-grown dragons. Do not think I—”
But before he could finish, the emissary spoke: “We’re free to speak in private within the Ring of Blue Light. The gods will not hear us here.”
Lilaci looked over at Gogenanth, who watched the emissary eagerly.
“Why have you come?” Veranor said. “What word does Queen Lezeral bring?”
“Queen Lezeral first off wishes me to tell you there are no gods here in Voru. Dânoz and Eyr left the eve before last. But they are watching your progress.”
“So, you’re not going to stop us from entering the city?” Fewn asked. “Even after what we’ve done?”
“The queen gave no orders to halt your entry but wanted me to say you may not find yourselves welcome within Voru’s walls. You are welcome to drink, eat, and venture at your leisure, but she doesn’t vouch for your security or protection. If you invite any means of violence in her city you will be subject to the same laws that govern here.”
“We understand,” Lilaci said, “and we appreciate the queen’s generosity. This won’t sit well with Dânoz and the others, though. Why would she risk so much?”
“The queen wishes to speak with you herself in due time. Until then, you are welcome to stay as long as you wish, or until your welcome... runs out.” The emissary let her long, dangling earrings flow from side to side, clicking as they bounced against her slender neck.
“Well, let’s be off then,” Burr said gruffly, and his one eye shot open. “Welcome or not. I’m thirsty! And the gods know the same is true for the girl!”
The emissary’s gaze darted at Kera. “The queen told me to give the Dragon’s Breath a particular message.” Kera made a move out from behind Lilaci, but Lilaci held a hand out to keep her back. Kera brushed her hand aside and walked directly up to the emissary. “Dragon’s Breath—Kera, as it were. The queen wishes to grant you a special welcome. She has heard of your deeds. Again, dragons fly the skies in the desert, a sight the Arr has not seen in generations. You have labored much, and at such a youthful age you have accomplished more than perhaps anyone expected of you. Queen Lezeral would have welcomed you with welcome arms back within her walls were it not for your present company.”
“Who? Burr?” Kera asked. “Because he is a Knight of the Whiteblade?”
“No,” the emissary responded. “Not him.”
“Veranor then,” she said. “He’s changed, he truly has.”
“Yes,” the emissary said down to Kera. “But Lilaci, Gogenanth, and Fewn will find themselves not-so-welcome. They may be your soldiers, but they are still considered traitors. The Scaethers are a powerful force in Voru. The queen has told them not to harm any of you unless in self-defense, but do not expect any form of homecoming here.”
“I thank the queen,” Kera said. “And we’ll be careful within her city, both for our own protection and the safety of her people.” She paused and looked up at the emissary with glazed eyes that showed deep fatigue. “Until then, like my friend said, I am quite thirsty and in need of rest. May we enter?”
With that, the emissary took two strides back, and swept to the right, behind a knight and lowered her head. Kera proceeded to walk forward, nodding to the emissary as she did. Lilaci followed her quickly, with Fewn behind her, then Gogenanth and Ezmerelda. Veranor walked after them, and Burr found himself standing in the middle of a ring of the Queensguard, who all seem to glare at the Whiteblade.
He gave a menacing growl in the center of the ring of soldiers. “You’re damn lucky your queen told me not to start anything with you.” He spat on the ground, and continued past, following Veranor and the others.
As they walked toward the Grand City, Kera dropped back to Lilaci’s side. “Do you believe her?” she asked.
Lilaci thought a moment. “I’ve only met her a handful of times, but she had a reputation for her integrity. I don’t doubt her in her words, but she fears the gods. So if this is a trap, I’d wager it’s not of her planning. Let’s just keep our guard up, and not linger too long here. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’d rather be out on the sands than here.”
Kera looked up to Lilaci with the same glazed over, innocent eyes. “I was always told to stay away from the cities. My whole life the Order told me that. I feel like I should be worried.”
“Are you?” Lilaci asked. “Your instincts haven’t proven you wrong yet. What does your heart say?”
“My heart? It says... I could eat and drink my weight in one sitting and sleep a whole day away with a warm fire and a canopy over my head.”
“If that’s what your heart desires, then let’s make that happen.” Lilaci smiled, and she pulled Kera close to her, and the girl wrapped her arm around Lilaci’s waist.
There it is—Voru. The home I never wanted, but the home I got. I was barely Kera’s age when I was first taken here. I vaguely remember being so exhausted and weak from tears and grieving that this place seemed like a different world. I wanted to die so badly back then that all I wanted to do was sleep when I first got here. Within these walls lies my past. A past I’d just as soon forget if given the opportunity. My hatred for this place though, it drives me. It drives me for a better life.
Chapter Three
The interior of Voru was a bitter, yet nostalgic experience for Lilaci. In one way it felt like a homecoming, but it felt as if she was a different person as she took her first steps into the city. Kera clung tightly to her pant leg as a strange assortment of sights and smells appeared before them. The air wafted with the thick stench of unwashed bodies and pungent perfumes, sweet fruits and mounds of garbage left to rot. Along with the all-too-familiar stench of death and decay.
As they moved through the city, filled with long rows of shanty tents on its outskirts, all eyes were upon them. All along the long market area before them, some continued with their business, but honed eager eyes upon the new visitors to their city. Lilaci looked to a clay wall to her right, seemingly from an old structure that had been obliterated long ago, leaving only a single-standing wall. Upon the wall were many pieces of parchment, but one caught her attention more than the others—a fresh piece with the royal emblem telling all that Lilaci and her party were to be unharmed in their time in the city, punishable by whatever means the chancellor seemed appropriate. Voru wasn’t so much known for an eye for an eye— they’d take the whole head when they deemed it so.
Then the yelling began, just because they were not to be harmed, that didn’t stop the people from yelling out any insult they could come up with at—surprisingly Veranor. Traitor! Heretic! Son of a bi
tch! they yelled. Your mum was a whore! Die! Filth! Yet, Veranor seemed undeterred by the names. After all, the Commander of the Scaethers only really cared for what a few thought of him, and since he’d left the favor of the gods, that left no one for him to uphold any sort of favorability. The only one who seemed to be in that position now was Kera.
Of the hundreds of people in the market square—with its long lines of canopies casting cool shade over the endless varieties of fruits, vegetables, legumes, grains, dried and fresh meats, and wares—many yelled and spat at them. Lilaci found that there were many too, who were getting into arguments with the ones who were yelling. A brawl broke near one of the carts carrying casks of some form of alcohol. Another broke out right near Burr, and he nearly drew his sword before the city guards rushed in and grabbed the two brawling men.
Lilaci pulled Kera forward and down one of the side streets leading away from the busy market square still filled with yells and fights breaking out. The others followed. They rushed down two roads, eventually falling into a recess, something like a small alleyway with lush green plants that hung overhead, and it was completely shaded by a set of canvas tarps. Most importantly though, at its center was a fountain filled with crystal clear water, lapping from side to side in an intoxicating manner.
“Go ahead,” Lilaci said. “It’s all ours, and it will never run dry.” Kera’s hands dove into the cool water, splashing over the sides of the fountain and onto the dry ground. Kera seemed startled by her wastefulness, but Lilaci again said. “It won’t go dry. Spill all you want. This is the reason people stay in these cities…”
Once Kera had gotten a couple of handfuls of water into her dry mouth she stepped back to take a deep breath, and the others dove in. Shoulder to shoulder they all pulled the water into their mouths like a pack of starving animals. Even Veranor and Burr were shameless in lapping the water up into their cracking throats. Lilaci poured it down as quickly as she could, even though she knew she should be drinking slowly.
Eventually they all got their fill and sat back in the shade in a delirious state of exhaustion and contentment for their bellies filled.
“What’s next?” Ezmerelda asked.
“Let’s just stay here awhile,” Fewn said. “Rest up, stretch out, out of sight.”
“Let’s rest, yes,” Lilaci said. “Then we’ll need food, and I dare say lots of it.”
“I agree with that statement,” Gogenanth said. “We never got our feast after defeating the dragons. We deserve a champion’s banquet after that.”
“Well,” Burr said, “we’re either going to need some coin or we’re gonna be begging or stealing for that feast you’re after.”
“We are not stealing,” Kera said.
“No need for that,” Veranor said. “I can gather plenty of coin for our stay here.” He gave Lilaci a cautious gaze. “But we may need to go somewhere you may not wish to visit...”
Gogenanth gave a mean glare to him. “You cannot be implying we visit that place again. The place I had to escape as a child that long time ago before I crossed the seas and back?”
Veranor nodded. “I have stashes around the city of coin, but that is certainly the closest. We should be safe there. I trust in the Queen Lezeral’s word.”
Fewn looked at Gogenanth with a curious look, one of slight concern, and part playfulness. Then she gave the same look to Lilaci. “It looks like we’re going home then.”
Around a handful of corners, and a series of long roads with more sinister looks and shouts, no more than two miles from the fountain in the wonderful shade they approached the place they’d been taken as young children. Before them loomed the familiar wooden door to Sorock. The dark-colored door was the only mark in a high wall that stood high above them, thin, well-watered vines trickled down and across the wall.
Looking up at the wall, and at the pair of Scaethers that stood on either side of the door, glaring angrily at the travelers, Gogenanth said, “It all looks tiny compared to what I remember it to be as a child.” The Scaethers didn’t seem to care for that comment, as one spat at Gogenanth’s feet. A smile shot across Gogenanth’s face. “I’d love nothing more to cut that mother-raping head from your body and burn your remains in an unmarked ditch in the desert.”
Ezmerelda ran in between the Scaethers and Gogenanth quickly. “Remember, we are to remain peaceful. If we start anything here, and we won’t be leaving without blood.”
“Fine by me,” Gogenanth said through his teeth.
“Please, calm yourself, Gogenanth,” Kera said. “I understand your pain, but what’s to come may grant you more a sense of revenge than a fight here.” He seemed to listen, as he pulled back and set his temper to rest.
“Let us enter,” Lilaci said. “We have business here.”
“What business do traitors have here?” one of the Scaethers asked in a spiteful tone. The Scaethers had the same remarkably rare features Lilaci and her friends did—a widow’s peak and pale skin for being born in the desert.
“We wish to see the Commander of the Scaethers,” Lilaci said. “We are here to talk, nothing more.”
“We have nothing to fear from you,” the other Scaether said. “Enter then. And please feel free to give us an excuse to retaliate. That would be most generous of you.” He shoved the door open with a loud creaking sound, and a flood of memories shot through Lilaci as she saw the prison that was Sorock. Rows of bunkhouses lined the eastern wall. She saw the fighting pit encircled by the thick rope, and the racks of weapons. But what nearly sent her to her knees in sadness were the faces of hundreds of children standing blank-faced at her and the others.
“There... There are so many...” she said.
“This is an average population size,” Veranor said. “You just don’t remember it because you’ve been removed from it. Very little has changed.”
“All of these children, they were all taken from their families?” Ezmerelda asked in disbelief. “I never dreamed it would be so many.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“This is where we were taken, after our families died,” Fewn said.
“Yes,” Veranor said. “All of us.” He put a hand on Kera’s shoulder. “This would’ve been your home if things would’ve worked out for the worse.”
“You mean if you would have won!” Burr spat.
They stood there in a sense of shock and awe. Gogenanth looked like he wanted to send his scimitar flying, sending it through every Scaether that lie within its walls. Ezmerelda clung to him as she cried. Burr seemed barely able to control himself from a murderous rage, after all these were the ones who hunted not only Kera, but all of his kind. This was their breeding ground, their home base.
All of these children, do they even remember what happened to them? They’re so wrapped up in their training, and their young minds being molded that they don’t even realize there’s a whole world happening outside of this, outside of pleasing their masters. All the misery, all the pain that lives within these walls is palpable, I can feel it... So much blood has been spilled to create this. All the generations of death and families murdered all for the mistaken belief that they light-skinned children with their dark widow’s peaks are made to be superior soldiers and assassins.
“Return to your studies!” called out a familiar voice, and all at once, the commotion commenced from the children. They went back to their activities as if Lilaci and the others had vanished. Then that familiar voice was coupled with a familiar face as a woman appeared in the shade behind the opened door in the building that used to belong to Veranor.
“Elan!” Fewn said with an excited smile.
Their old instructor ducked back into the cool interior of her quarters, not acknowledging Fewn’s call.
“Don’t expect a warm homecoming,” Lilaci said, then began walking toward the stand-alone building that formerly belonged to the ex-commander that walked with them now. They all continued after Lilaci.
“Do you think she didn’t recognize me?” Fewn a
sked Lilaci, who didn’t respond. We’d spent so much time together when she was our teacher…
“She recognized you,” Gogenanth said.
Elan had shut the door behind her, which Lilaci opened without hesitation as the lock popped, and she swung its wooden door inward. “We need to talk,” she said.
Elan, standing shorter than Lilaci and Fewn, gave her a hard glare, and waved for her to take a seat at one of the two chairs placed before her wide, rectangular desk. Strands of dust trickled through the warm sunlight coming from the window. Lilaci sat at one of the chairs, sitting with her legs wide, leaning toward the commander. She looked over at the now-packed house, and urged Kera to sit in the other chair, which she did with her feet hanging inches from the ground.
“What do you want?” Elan asked, sitting back in her chair with her arms folded over her chest.
“I want you to join us,” Lilaci said.
Elan’s eyes narrowed with rage, as they showed her true level of anger at them. “Those words I say are more insulting than your presence here. You should leave now.”
“We need more than us to avenge all of the death the gods have dealt from their safe haven. We’ve all lost because of them. Elan, we need your help.”
Elan looked around the room. “If I’m even to continue any conversation with you here, he has to leave.” She looked squarely at Veranor. Lilaci then looked back at him and motioned for him to take his leave with a flick of her chin. He ducked out quickly with only the sound of the popped lock, and the slight rustle of his coat tails as they trailed behind him as he walked back out into the sunlight. The door was closed by Burr behind him.
“What do you say?” Lilaci asked. “You’ve lost just as much as all of us. Your family was taken from you too. And we need soldiers for what’s to come.”
“Please, Elan,” Fewn said. “It was destiny we’d fight side by side again, for our freedom this time.”