by Sarah Cathey
As the two flew overhead their conversation went to silence as they saw the long and winding caravan of Drjeen making their way in and out of the forest below. It was a solemn moment as they realized the fear and pain of those below. Many would not make it and those who did would not know their future. None, including Aput and Shook, knew what lay ahead, nor did they know if they would survive.
“We must reach the caverns before the caravan,” the princess said as she flew higher into the sky.
“Why is that?”
She was quiet for some time, but as they moved beyond the trailing end of the caravan Amanna slowed again, “I do not know how I will be accepted.” Tears welled in her eyes as Aput moved in closer and in a near-inaudible whisper, the princess said, “My father ordered this exile. He would not listen to reason. I am his daughter. I worry that I will be blamed and retaliated against.”.
“Then why have you come?”
“I have nowhere else to go.”
And that was the thought Aput was dwelling on as the two Drjeen flew passed the leading caravan and managed to find the entrance to the cavern where he and Shook had stood only a short time before.
“You will be fine. We are almost there.” Shakja walked alongside Dharma as Shook was strapped to his Daken and bouncing like a youngling riding a Daken for the first time. Other riders walked alongside allowing the sickest of the caravan to ride on their Daken rather than walk which they could not do. The Daken, of course, were not found of anyone except their personal rider on their backs, but with some coercing by their riders and Shakja, the animals allowed for it.
The mushroom stew that Shakja made for Shook and some of the sickest was in a way working wonders. Shook had regained consciousness and eventually the strength to sit up. Others had seen a near-complete recovery. Still, Shook needed to be watched. He’d taken the brunt of the sickness and with injuries already sustained from his last venture to the caverns, he seemed to have been hit harder than any other Drjeen.
“I am told we are almost there,” she went on, sliding a talon along his leathery brow, just below the horns. “When we arrive, I can fix a better pot of stew, one that is more potent and will help you heal much more quickly.
Had she not loved him before, she certainly did now, and her heart broke every time she thought she might lose him. She reached up again sliding a talon against one of Shook’s horns. “We will be fine.”
The caravan slowly moved along, though the losses began to pile up as the gaunt sight of loose skin and decaying teeth and horns emerged more quickly as each moon passed by. Death at the head of the caravan wasn’t as prevalent as it was led by the strongest, but at the back, Shakja had heard the stories of those who hadn’t made it. The weakest, the youngest and the elderly who had been near perished by the time the exile began. The numbers had grown that the Daken riders no longer took the time to burn the victims, rather they were stripped of clothing, armor, food and anything of value then left where they fell or moved out of the way of the oncoming groups. They would become fodder for the forest’s beasts once the caravan had passed.
A Daken scout came up on the lead addressing the rider closest to Shakja. The rider had given up his mount for another rider who could barely keep himself balanced enough to remain on the Daken.
“Sir, we are close. Another half-moon and we shall be there.”
“Well done.” the officer said to the young scout which brought a slight grin to the young scout’s face, revealing teeth that were seemingly untouched from the sickness.
As soon as the scout left, Shakja looked at the rider, “He’s strong; not affected at all from the sickness.”
“That’s why all of my youngest soldiers want to suddenly become a scout. They are not in proximity of the sickness.”
Shakja nodded, understanding the officer.
“You should go on ahead. I will have a small patrol ready to bring you to the caverns.”
“But… I don’t know if I should…”
The officer stopped and held Shakja by her broad shoulders, “You have no choice. You have the only ingredients to keep us alive. You must make as much stew as you can or else we all perish. Even the strongest.”
At that Shakja looked inside her bag. Most of the mushrooms were whole, uncut and undried. She only had enough stew to create a couple of batches for the entire column of the exiled. She must gather herbs and other plants as she walked ahead with her guards. The mushrooms were potent in their own right, but without full stomachs, the Drjeen would soon need more and more which she may not be able to provide.
“I will need assistance. Gatherers to pick as we move along.”
The officer nodded. “Very well. Who do you choose?”
Shakja turned, looking for the strongest around her. “No riders.” the officer stated. “They are far too valuable for the caravan.”
That would make it more difficult, but as she looked around, she plucked out a familiar site from the group behind her.
“Is that real?’
A female Drjeen stepped from the group, “I will go.”
“But, how long have you been there?”
“Since we left the settlement.” the female said.
Shakja did everything she could to hold back her tears. She raced forward and clasped the Drjeen, wrapping her wings around her.
“I thought you were dead, Salett.”
Aput and Princess Amanna sat on the edge of the bluff overlooking the caravan as it approached. The first Daken riders and scouts carefully investigated the lower entrance chambers at the foot of the waterfall.
“There are so many,” Amanna said, leaning in closer to Aput. “I had no idea. When my father thought the blue star was going to strike Jeen he ordered so few to hide here.”
“He was looking out for himself. He did not want to be packed in the caverns as we will be.”
“There is more than we need. You and I only breached the first chambers. There are still many. These caverns can sustain hundreds of thousands.”
“We will never have that many.”
As the two sat and talked Aput noticed a peculiar sight of a Daken surrounded by walking Daken riders. Upon that Daken was a large Drjeen that appeared to be leading the way. Even from his position, there was no mistaking the strength and armor of Shook.
“He survives,” Aput exclaimed to Amanna’s delight. Then from somewhere far off in the cavern, the earthy scent of mushrooms and broth struck both Aput and Princess Amanna.
They looked at each other.
With an awkward smile, Amanna looked at Aput, “Home.”
Amanna turned toward the back of their perched outcropping toward the cavern, but Aput remained watching Daken riders bring their mounts within the cavern. He knew that a Daken would allow only one rider in its lifetime and therefore the riders who stay would be responsible for their mounts. How much food would those beasts eat? How much space would they occupy? And, as his worst fears pervaded, he wondered how long it would be before the Daken could no longer be controlled. His only hope was that Shook had an answer.
Chapter 16
It took nearly two full moons to pass overhead before the last of the exiled finally reached the cavern below, most of which were being carried in on stretchers and the backs of others.
The weak and diseased—nearly all now in the cavern—were led by guard to personal caverns with no discernable reasoning. It was a matter of proximity and next in line. Once all were placed, warriors who would remain posted guard awaiting Shook’s orders. The others said their goodbyes and removed their selves from the cavern of the ancients. All Drjeen were ordered to remain in their assigned caves.
Aput watched from just outside a tall recess looking out over the Drjeen below.
The explosions louder than he expected and after the fourth round which ensured those with the sickness would be entombed, he could no longer take the wailing and cries below. He stepped back into the chamber of his friends.
“Prin
cess, you should not have come.” Shakja reprimanded the youngling. “It will be dangerous for you here.” Shakja looked over her shoulder as Aput re-entered, “Too dangerous.”
The cavern chose for Shook, and Shakja as his companion, was elevated high above the others as Shook’s hierarchy made him the natural leader until the exiled were permitted back to their homes. How long that would be was anyone’s guess. The room had once been the home to the ancients as were many of the small cavernous rooms that were found. Much had been left by the ancients from ledges etched into the walls to free water systems that still ran and allowed a place for the Drjeen to defecate. There were vertical holes along the walls where the ancients would have placed torches for light as well as the occasional pottery and bones. Overall, Shakja realized that for the Drjeen of the lower settlement this was an upward movement—if they survived. For the others such as any guard who were staying, this was a significant loss of hierarchy. Though, it would be home to all.
“You will stay with us,” Shakja addressed Aput and Amanna. “You will be safe here and princess, you are the highest of us all and still royalty. How the others will accept that I do not know, but they do respect Shook. That means the warriors who stay will protect you.”
Princess Amanna nodded acknowledgment. Unlike the egos of her parents and brother Amanna understood that station in life only lasted as long as others gave it. If she were to be blamed for her parents’ action, then so be it. She would handle herself with dignity.
“There is another chamber here,” Aput called from across the large room.
“Yes, I’ve not had time to explore.” Shook was laying on a makeshift bed prepared by the Daken riders who escorted Shakja and Shook to their new home.
“It’s deep. Goes way back.” Princess Amanna took a glowing torch from one end of the room and followed Aput.
Shook sat up as Shakja lifted another cup of broth to his mouth. “I think they will be good together.” His mouth opened into a broad toothy smile and he didn’t seem to care about the cracking of his dried lips. “They are young and inquisitive. The princess will keep him from getting bored.”
Shakja had to smile at the joke and as she did the princess yelled out from the small chamber in the back of the room. “Shakja! Come quick!”
“I wonder what it is now. I will be back soon, you stay here.”
Agkhor had spent so much time in his royal chamber that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. That foul scientist Ittar was dead, that is all he cared about for the moment. But there was more he knew he would need to address in the future. Ittar had only injured him, barely enough to even acknowledge. He quickly made his way from the room after breaking the spears from the wall and taking their shafts from his shoulders. He wanted to be the one to kill that sniveling rodent, but in the secret royal chamber, he had to watch as his mother, Queen Neparon, ripped Ittar to nearly nothing. It was a bloody mess for sure and quite enjoyable, yet he could not get the look from his mother to Amanna as his sister leaped from the cavern. He knew his mother had always had a special pride in his sister, pride which he would never receive.
How would that affect him in the future with his sister gone? Would she ever return and if she did what would happen then? The young prince had given direct orders to have the exiled closed off in the caverns even if that meant one of their prized war leaders, and even someone Ittar looked up to, were locked inside. He’d known that Shook had begun to look ill before the procession began, and while he did not give a direct order, he knew Shook was too proud to disobey an order that all with the sickness be locked in the caverns.
But, his mother. How would she treat Agkhor with Amanna gone and Agkhor being the one who directed the cavern closure? Would his mother seek Amanna out? Would his mother have the caverns opened?
His room was dark and with only two guards outside he realized it was time to face his mother. He could no longer hide from her. He would have approached her much sooner, but again, as exciting as her destruction of Ittar was to watch it was also terrifying. Many had spoken of the queen’s flared temper, but as her son, Agkhor had never seen his mother anything but dignified and the equal balance against the king’s impulsive temper and war-like mind. She had always been civil, well-thought and no doubt the reason Amanna had grown to be even more than his mother.
But, now knowing his mother’s true strength—her reserved blistering anger—he knew he could not approach her in the way he’d approached his father days before.
He had to find some way to take over the kingdom. Now was the chance as chaos ensued and the upper castes wondered their fate and most of the lower castes and some of the warrior caste had been forced to march. There was so much to do and he did not have the loyalists that the king and queen had.
It was the king’s impulsive actions that would lead to his downfall. While Agkhor had many of his father’s traits, venom, malice, anger, and strength, Agkhor had managed to control his anger much like his mother. Perhaps he was more like his mother than he thought. But she would not be as easy as the king whose deceased body lay on the floor near Agkhor’s fire pit.
The king’s body was emitting a foul stench as the three spears his assassin had placed in the king’s chest were still standing on end. Agkhor finished his father with a blade to both hearts, allowing his father to watch him and know who had felled him. He did not want to kill his father, but to control the kingdom it was a needed risk.
Agkhor crawled out of his bed. It was time. He stepped over his father and to the door. When he opened the door both guards immediately stood to the side, their blades drawn and prepared to take orders.
“Burn the body. The smell is awful.”
Agkhor met two more guards at the end of the hall and they followed him to the queen’s chambers.
It was time for Agkhor to ascend to the throne.
“What have you found?” Shakja had to bend over to enter the third chamber that the princess had found. As she stepped into the room she gasped, “What have you…”
“Crystals,” said Amanna.
“But they are glowing as if in the moonlight.”
The princess had pulled one from the ground, “They are cool to the touch.”
Shakja took the bag of mushrooms from her waist and dropped it on the ground at her feet so she could maneuver better through the small labyrinth of winding corridors that all seemed to move into each other. She took the crystal that Amanna was handing to her.
“These will be helpful for navigation and exploration of the ancient city. We should bring riders up here to collect them and create a lit system in the caverns below. Each Drjeen should have one to see in their own chambers. When the cavern is closed, this may be our only light.”
Amanna’s eyes grew in excitement realizing that the caverns may not be as devastating as she once thought. There was running water, enough rooms for each Drjeen and more. Shakja would grow mushrooms which rapidly reproduce. Within a short time, the city would be functioning and without a slave or monetary system, they might live better than they had outside the caverns.
Aput then spoke, “I don’t know if we should introduce the crystals until we know more about them.”
“How do you mean?” asked Shakja, standing shoulder to shoulder with an equally puzzled Amanna.
Shook stepped into the chamber, looking better after another bowl of warm broth. “Perhaps the two young ones are correct. We do not know this cavern and we do not know it’s secrets.”
The princess weighed their two options. “Aput is correct. We mustn’t introduce the crystals until we know how they work. Aput, this will be your duty. You are a scientist and know the ways of the world which we do not. You must study the crystals. Until you are confident, they are safe we shall leave them here. I also commission you to explore additional chambers to find more like this if they even exist.”
Shakja nudged Shook. “If she had been timid before, she has adapted well to her new role as queen of the ca
verns.” The two winked at each other.
Aput didn’t know what to say, but since he no longer had the sky it made sense that he focused on the ground.
Shook suddenly spun around. “Someone is watching us.”
The smallest of shadows cast by the crystals betrayed a person sliding back down the corridor leading to Aput and Amanna’s chamber.
Anger poured through Salett as she watched Shakja gingerly slide her talon along Shook’s face. They had only just closed off the caverns and already these four were planning their leadership of the exiled. Who gave them the authority?
She held her head and the increasing pain she’d felt since losing her horns. Perhaps, she’d only been through too much and her mind was at odds. Too much was happening too quickly.
Before backing from her hidden corner Salett snatched one of the crystals. And as she exited, she could hear Shakja in the background stopping Shook. “It does not matter who it is. We know nothing yet of what we’ve found. No one does.” The words angered Salett all the more as she rapidly left the upper chambers, wound her way downward and then from a perch far off in the distance she landed in a chamber that while small also had a vantage of the entire city below.
She held the crystal in front of herself curiously looking at its warm glow, “Now, what else can you do.”
“You have killed your father then.”
Agkhor stopped in his tracks as he entered his mother’s chamber taken aback first by the fact that she heard him when he moved so quietly and second at her accusation.
“Why do you say that?”
“It is what your father did to take his throne. The problem with the younglings is that they want all the power too soon. What? Do you plan to kill me now? Take over the throne on your own? You have no wife and no advisor you can trust. You have not taken care of the politics. You will be assassinated before you have the opportunity to sit on the throne.” She admonished.
Agkhor didn’t know how to respond. He knew she was right. She was always right.