Fallen King

by Olive Creed

  Briley seemed to argue within herself before nodding slowly. “I... yes, I suppose. Um, are you sure you can’t come discuss it with the others inside?”

  “Probably best he doesn’t go,” Roscoe mumbled. “If word got out that a Shadow was helping other people..."

  Briley flushed. “Oh, right. Yeah. Well, thank you for helping us.”

  Cyprian grunted, shrugging.

  Roscoe cleared his throat. “If you need help, there’s a young lady in a small town just this side of the Achian-Elyndian border. Zora Juniper, she’s a Galkan half-breed, so you can’t miss her. She’s on our side.”

  Cyprian nodded, filing away that piece of information as he mounted Fury and gave a half-hearted wave before flying off. Report to the king, then go find Zora, just in case he did end up needing her.

  What the heck is a Galkan even doing over here? It didn’t really matter, but he was curious.

  Fury growled, dropping to the trees and clinging to the trunk of one. Her scales turned brown and green to blend in. Cyprian ducked under her wing to avoid being seen, though anyone looking for them would see her saddle.

  Stupid. He needed to start flying bareback.

  A Shadow moved on foot through the forest, headed towards Briley and Roscoe and followed by his dragon. He was a newer one; Cyprian didn’t even know his name, but chances were he’d seen them leave and decided to check things out. Likely, he hoped to find out who the man responsible for freeing the captives was and turn him over to the king.

  Well, he couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let the Shadow go back and tell someone about Cyprian taking Roscoe to the forest, either. And there was only one solution.

  He slid back into the saddle and signaled Fury. She launched herself off the tree.

  Cyprian jumped off at the last moment, tackling the Shadow while Fury took the dragon. He rolled to his feet, reaching for his dagger.

  A blow to his ribs knocked him onto his backside. The Shadow stomped down on his hand, pinning it to the ground. Cyprian bit back a cry as bones cracked. His dagger was pried from his grip, his fingers moving in odd angles, and shoved against his throat until it bit into his skin.

  “Everyone says you’re so good.” The Shadow’s gray eyes flashed. “I don’t see that.”

  Cyprian sneered and swung his legs up, planting both knees in the Shadow’s backside and sending him sprawling. At the price of his hand, though. Bones crunched and joints dislocated. He rolled to his feet, pulling out his other dagger with his left hand.

  He darted forward as the Shadow stumbled to his feet and thrust his dagger into the man’s stomach.

  As the Shadow collapsed in a boneless and bloody heap on the floor, Cyprian cleaned his dagger and retrieved his other one. He turned to Fury and waved for her to release the dragon.

  She hopped off and the dead Shadow’s dragon slunk forward, sniffing at her dead rider. She sat down, curled her tail around the body, and howled.

  Cyprian loaded the body onto the dragon’s back, then mounted Fury and turned towards the castle. As the adrenaline wore off, he became aware of agony pulsing through his hand. He growled, pressing it against his tunic. It was starting to swell, the skin already turning a dark purple color.

  This was going to be fun to explain.

  The king was waiting for Cyprian outside the castle, accompanied by General Byrd and Ronan.

  Cyprian grimaced. He’d rehearsed his lie a thousand times on the short trip back to Everdon, but saying it to his king was a different matter altogether. Fury dropped in front of the king and Cyprian dismounted.

  “Where did you find him?” King Corynth’s tone sent shivers through Cyprian.

  Cyprian pointed at the jailhouse and raised his eyebrows.

  “Don’t speak to me that way,” the king snapped. “Use your words, boy.”

  Mindful to keep the scowl off his face, Cyprian squared his shoulders. “I t-tracked down the, the culprit for, for releasing the captives. Wh-when I tracked him, him down he put up a, a fight and I was f-forced to kill him.”

  “Uh-huh.” The king rubbed his chin. “You were seen leaving with Roscoe. Why?”

  Cyprian thought fast, trying to think of something that wouldn’t put any blame on Roscoe and risk Peter, since the king knew those two were good friends. “He, he was helping, he was helping me track down the culprit.”

  King Corynth’s sharp eyes studied Cyprian’s face. Cyprian stared right back. “I don’t believe you,” he said finally. “You hate Roscoe. Why would you work with him?”

  “Peter, he w-wanted us to, to look out for each, for each other.” Cyprian lifted his chin. “I c-couldn’t be sure the other, the other soldiers wouldn’t do something.”

  “I’m fully aware that when Denmark leaves, he asks you two to try and get along and look out for each other. I also happen to know that when Denmark is gone, you terrorize Roscoe.” King Corynth’s gaze pierced Cyprian. “Why would you follow his requests now?

  “Because Roscoe was, was on the l-list of suspects and, and I didn’t know if, if someone would try and in-interrogate him.” He mentally berated himself. He really needed to work on his lying.

  King Corynth leaned forward, grabbing Cyprian’s tunic and yanking him forward. “So, where is he now?”

  Cyprian’s mind blanked, his heart skipping a beat before thumping painfully against his chest.

  A slow grin spread against the king’s face, twisting Cyprian’s stomach into painful knots. “I thought as much.” He shoved him back, causing Cyprian to crash against Fury. She growled softly, but Cyprian patted her head to quiet her.

  King Corynth glanced at Ronan before turning back to Cyprian. “You’re not telling me the whole truth. You know the consequences for lying.”

  Cyprian swallowed, but refused to let his fear show.

  King Corynth grinned. “You have no one to blame but yourself. You know I have to have full faith that my Shadows tell me everything.”

  Ronan stepped forward and grabbed Cyprian’s arm. Cyprian fought back every instinct screaming for him to rip the Shadow’s hand off him and allowed himself to be dragged to the town square.

  This was sure to hinder his plans.

  Night was falling when Cyprian finally made it to the little border town Roscoe had told him about.

  Town. It was more a glorified trading post. He could count seven small log buildings in the dark and at least half of those had to be homes and at least one barn.

  He slid off Fury, breath catching in his throat as fire raced across his back. He’d changed into a blue tunic and buckskin pants to fit in more, though he kept his daggers. And he was seriously contemplating going to see a healer and get his back taken care of properly.

  Only problem with that was he had no money.

  After he’d caught his breath, Cyprian straightened and signaled for Fury to stay before heading down the boardwalk.

  He found her in the tavern, working as a bartender. Roscoe had been right; there was no way he could miss her. She stood a head taller than anyone in the room, with skin and hair as black as night.

  Full lips stretched into a smile when she saw him, one slender hand reaching up to flick hoop earrings. “Howdy, kid. What can I do for you?”

  He leaned against the bar, inhaling slowly and trying to keep his expression blank. The tavern was mostly empty, everyone either heading home or passed out on a table. A few cacti stood in small clay pots scattered about. Brightly colored rugs and curtains and a rack of coffee cups looked very out of place with the dirt on the floors and the Kyrnian sprawled across the floor in a drunken stupor.

  Place must’ve not always been a tavern, he mused.

  “Roscoe s-sent me,” he whispered. “Said, said you’re, um, on our side. To keep King, King Torrin alive.”

  She never paused in wiping down the counter, smile still on her face. Cyprian couldn’t help but notice she had a really nice smile, a tiny dimple on one cheek.“I got just the thing for you. Come on back h
ere.” She laid a hand on his shoulder, leading him into the cluttered storeroom.

  Briley had just finished her morning chores and cleaned up--she’d spilled goat milk on her skirt and legs--when she spied Zeno through the open bedroom door, staring down at King Torrin.

  A tiny bit of trepidation went through her as she tiptoed in. “Is everything alright?”

  “Hm?” He looked up quickly. “Oh. Yeah. just thinking.”

  “Wondering if the little king’s up for traveling to Zaraya.” Briley jumped as Raevyn leaned against the foot of the bed. She hadn’t noticed her before. “I saw ‘e is. Surely ‘e can make it a few ‘ours.”

  “What do you think?” Briley peered up at Zeno.

  “He’s as stable as I can get him.” Zeno rested his hands on his hips. “And we can’t stay here much longer.”

  “Bovine can only carry three of us.” Raevyn pushed her hair out of her face. “So, one of y’all ‘as to wait for the second trip.”

  “What are we discussing?” Roscoe leaned against the doorframe, glancing at Briley before averting his gaze.

  “If now is the time to go to Zaraya. Raevyn, it’s probably best for Zeno to go with you and King Torrin, as he is a healer.” Briley glanced at Roscoe. “You and I can stay and wait for her to send others?”

  He nodded, stepping forward to help Zeno prepare Torrin for the journey while Raevyn ran off to saddle Bovine.

  “Are you sure your parents won’t mind? Taking an Elyndian and an Achian and... well, anyone besides an Anatheman to Zaraya—”

  Raevyn turned, putting her hands on Briley’s shoulders. “My people can get over it. You all need ‘elp. We’re going to ‘elp you.”

  She nodded, smiling softly. “Alright. Thank you.”

  “Of course! What else are best friends for?”

  Getting King Torrin outside was easier than Briley had anticipated. Zeno, though not very tall, was strong enough to easily lift him and carry him out. They mounted Bovine, Raevyn in front of the saddle and Zeno sitting in the saddle, holding Torrin between them.

  Briley waved. “Be safe, you guys.”

  Zeno managed a quick, nervous grin, yelping when they took off.

  “They’ll be alright.” She clasped her hands together and turned to finish packing. She wasn’t sure if she was convincing Roscoe or herself.

  Lunch was drawing near when several dragons finally landed in the front yard.

  Briley stepped out with a pleasant smile. “Eo’aiki, Mi Hale. Thank you so much for allowing us to come to Zaraya.”

  Hale Aliki was a tall, solidly built man. His hair and beard were white as snow and trimmed close, a stark contrast against his brown skin. Green eyes roamed the clearing and surrounding trees, as if checking every inch for danger.

  Raevyn hopped off a borrowed dragon, a beautiful, golden beast with a red barbed tip on his tail. “I would kick ‘im out of Zaraya if ‘e didn’t.”

  Hale shot his daughter a mild glare, gently punching her shoulder. “I vould never decline ‘elp to a peaceful people. I ‘ope my daughter didn’t cause you any trouble.’

  Briley grinned. “No, Raevyn was helpful as always. And I hope your people won't object too much to King Torrin.”

  He waved his hand. “Think nothing of it. In times of trouble, people must put aside their prejudices and vork together.”

  "And if they protest too 'arshly, I'll kick their—"

  "You'll do no such thing, daughter," Hale cut in. "A leader leads vith dignity and maturity. Kicking them is neither."

  She huffed, stuffing her hands in her pocket. "But it's funner that way."

  Hale shook his head, sending a helpless look to Briley, who giggled.

  Roscoe stepped out, holding Catnip against his chest. He cleared his throat and bowed. “Hale.”

  “Ah, Roscoe, it ‘as been a long time since ve ‘ave seen you.”

  He grinned sideways. “Corynth kept me busy.”

  “Too busy for friends.” Raevyn pretended to pout.

  Hale flicked the back of her head. “If I recall correctly, the last time ‘e vas visiting, you scared him so badly—”

  Roscoe cleared his throat, face pink. “Do we have to talk about that?”

  Briley giggled and clasped her hands. “We are packed, Mi Hale, and ready to leave at once.” She hesitated. “What about my goats, chickens, and donkey?”

  “I already thought of that.” Hale nodded towards his men who were heading to the barn. “I brought extra men ‘o vill bring your animals to Zaraya on foot.”

  Briley shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you so much. I know they’re just animals, but..."

  He smiled gently. “I understand. They are some of the few remaining ties to your parents. Raevyn vould 'ave thrown me out of Zaraya 'ad I not made plans to bring them vith us. Not to mention my vife vill be pleased vith the addition to our meager 'erds and flocks. Now, if everything is taken care of, then ve shall leave at once.”

  Hale and Raevyn picked up the carpet bags and carried them to the dragons while Briley padded over to one of the triallas. Her cat bounded across the ground, jumping into her arms.

  Raevyn hopped back up onto the dragon, easily pulling Briley up with her. “’ang on tight. ‘e likes to go fast.”

  “Wonderful. Of course he does.” She tightened her grip on her cat and Raevyn, squeezing her eyes shut.

  “You two can stay with me, I guess.”

  Roscoe followed behind Zeno as Alaric led them to a two-story house. He glanced around, taking in the scenery. Zaraya was practically a hidden world. Dragons mingled with goats and chickens in the field between buildings, guarded by children who were playing more than actually watching over the livestock. The towering mountains encircling the valley formed a barricade, protecting the inhabitants of Zaraya from his former king.

  Catnip chirped at a fellow yasil dragon perched on a trough, abandoning Roscoe’s shoulder to greet it.

  Alaric pushed open the front door and stood to the side as Roscoe and Zeno stepped into what looked like a healer’s office. Of course, Roscoe mused. Alaric was a healer. It made sense that the bottom half of his home was reserved for taking care of patients.

  Roscoe turned to the open door to the right at the sound of an old woman’s voice. A plump lady clad in a homespun dress with her hair in a bun walked in. She froze when she saw them before focusing on Alaric and rattling off in the Anatheman tongue.

  Alaric answered back, gesturing to them. Zeno leaned over to Roscoe. “Do you have an idea what they’re saying?”

  “He’s introducing us,” Roscoe replied stiffly, crossing his arms. “She says she won’t be able to sleep with a barbarian under her roof. That’s you, by the way. She knows me.”

  Zeno swallowed, hunching his shoulders. “What do they have against Achians?”

  “Considering it was your people that drove them from their native country by dumping criminals and experiments there—”

  He was interrupted when Alaric waved for them to follow him, leading them up through another door. “This is usually reserved for patients who need to stay overnight, but you two should be comfortable.” He grinned at Roscoe’s disgusted face. “Don’t worry, it’s clean.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Alaric rubbed his chin, pursing his lips. “I’m pretty certain. Well, if you come down with something while staying here, we’ll know for sure.” He walked out.

  Roscoe glanced at Zeno. “I guess you can choose which bed you want.”

  “Thanks.” He set his knapsack down on one of the mattresses. “So, you quit the army?”

  “Yeah.” Roscoe dragged a hand over his face. “I never agreed with Corynth’s ways but was too scared to do anything.”

  Zeno nodded in agreement.

  “Anyways, a couple years ago I met Hale and Lindy. Started helping them and their people out. Guess Corynth finally found out.”

  Zeno cleared his throat. “That’s better than what I did. I just packed up and ran away.
”

  “I wanted to,” Roscoe admitted. “But where could I go?”

  “You could’ve fled to Elyndia,” Zeno pointed out. “Corynth didn’t have any authority once you got over the borders.”

  “Yeah, well, I was doing more good for Hale’s folks by staying than leaving.” Roscoe grinned sideways. “No matter, though. I still ended up running.”

  Zeno chuckled along with him and Roscoe felt like he’d finally found someone who could relate to him.

  Afterall, how many soldiers deserted King Corynth’s army and lived to tell the tale?

  “I don’t think we’ve ever ‘ad a sleepover.” Raevyn tossed Briley’s bag onto her bed. The Aliki cabin was built into the side of the mountains. The main room was the only room with windows, the rest of the house underground. Raevyn’s room was pitch black, save for the circle of light coming from the lantern she held. “This’ll be fun.”

  “Hopefully you don’t kick.” Briley grinned sideways, setting her cat down and placing the light on the bedside table—ignoring the animal skull right next to it. Her legs still shook from riding the golden dragon—whose name was Nim, Raevyn had informed her.

  “Nah, I don’t. At least none of my other friends ‘ave complained about it.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind sharing your bed?” Briley pulled her braid over her shoulder, fiddling with it. “I could make a pallet on the floor.”

  Raevyn rolled her eyes. “I do not mind. You’ll ‘ardly take up any room. It’s fine, Briley, I promise.” She grinned. “We can braid each other’s ‘air and ‘ave girly talks and stay up late telling scary stories.”

  Briley grinned back. “Right. Just a fun sleepover.”

  She’d just... try and forget that she was now in a place where the people despised her because of her pale skin. People that were a lot bigger and stronger than the Elyndians. And likely didn’t have such strict rules about etiquette and being polite.

  Stop being afraid. God will protect me. Just like He protected me going to get Zeno.