Chapter 4 #3
“Which is also why we need to be cautious—explain who we are before you unlock anything.”
“Might be better if you talk to Garran before any unlocking happens. He’ll surely recognize you and be able to reassure the rest.”
“Good idea.” I undid the lacings on my sword in preparation for cutting the locks, but didn’t draw it, not wanting to cause immediate panic inside the cages.
Though, to be honest, our clothing and our coloring should, at the very least, reassure them we were not the enemy, but who knew what state their minds might be in right now, after everything that had happened?
We reached the platform and split, Kele going right while I limped left.
Some of the men inside were standing, others were sitting, and there were plenty of fresh wounds and what looked to be a number of broken limbs.
But all of them were watching me, their wariness so evident in their expressions that it was overriding any sign of pain.
I couldn’t see Garran. Not immediately. But he’d been standing to the front of the cage’s front when we’d swept in, so it was possible he was being deliberately hidden?—
“Bryn?” a gruff voice said sharply. “Is that you? Or am I fucking delusional?”
Tears sprang to my eyes, and I blinked rapidly against them. Despite the aching weariness and pain so evident in his voice, he sounded exactly the same as when I’d last seen him some four months ago, when he and Hanna, his pregnant wife, had returned to Jakarra to have their firstborn on home soil.
“You’ve always been fucking delusional, Garran, but it is indeed me.”
There was a shuffle of movement then he hobbled forward as far as his chain allowed.
He was a tall man and, like most Jakarrans, had red-brown skin and thick wiry hair the exact same color.
His eyes, however, were as blue as the summer skies—the same color as his mother’s and mine.
Not surprising, given they’d been sisters.
“What the fuck are you doing riding a drakkon ?” He stopped and gripped the bars hard, as if the small amount of movement forward had exhausted him.
And it probably had—he and everyone in the cage had lost a good amount of weight, leaving their faces clearly gaunt even through the shaggy, unkempt beards they all now had.
“And how in Vahree’s name did they gain fire ? ”
“Long story, and one we haven’t time for, given the riders will be looking for us. Can you give a shout to the men in the other cage and tell them not to attack Kele when she opens the cage?”
He did so, then hesitated slightly before adding, “What of Jakarra? Any news?”
He didn’t directly ask about his wife, but I knew that was what lay at the heart of the question.
“Hanna and a good portion of Jakarra’s people remain safe in the caverns. The riders have made no additional move against them at this point.” I paused and smiled. “And you, my dear cousin, have a healthy son and heir.”
His grip on the bars tightened—as if, just for a moment, his strength gave out and his knees buckled—and a sob briefly escaped. Then he sucked in a deep, somewhat quivering breath, and said, “That is welcome news indeed, but why do they remain on Jakarra? Why haven’t they been evacuated?”
“Because the riders still occupy the island, and they come out in force at night. We can only evacuate during the day and, given that restriction, can only use the cutters. Anything else is too slow.” I motioned toward the door. “Can everyone please step back while I break the chain on the door?”
They shuffled back. I drew and raised my sword then brought it down hard between two bars; sparks flew briefly as the steel met the unbreakable force that was Ithican glass, then the chain shattered and fell heavily to the ground.
I opened the door, picked my way through the piss and shit that stained the cage’s rough wooden floor, and threw my arms around Garran’s neck, hugging him hard.
He responded, his grip no less fierce than mine, though his arms shook with effort.
Tears escaped past my lashes, despite my best effort of control. “You have no idea just how glad I am to see you, cousin.”
“No more than I and everyone else here is to see you, I’d wager.”
“How the hell did you all survive? After the destruction of the port and most of Illistin, we presumed you and your men were dead.”
“Many are, but they kept a select few alive. From what we can gather, it’s generally those of us who put up the most resistance; apparently, they consider only our blood to be good enough to use for their sacrifices.”
“But how were you captured?”
“They spelled us. One minute we were fighting, the next we woke in these fucking cages.” He drew back slightly. “I’m sensing a great sadness in you—what’s happened?”
Garran had inherited a touch of his mom’s seeress abilities—though it tended toward reading emotions rather than seeing possible futures, which was a good ability for any leader to have.
It was also one that had, in the end, solidified him as my father’s choice of heir rather than selecting a basically unknown cousin several generations removed—a consequence of my father being an only child.
I drew in a deeper breath, bracing against the wave of sorrow that was already rising, but the thick stench of unwashed flesh and feces-covered floor caught in my throat, and a violent coughing fit ensued.
“Yeah,” Garran added, his tone dry. “It pays not to breathe too deeply in this place, though most of us have been here long enough to be immune to the stink, personal and otherwise.”
“I’ve had people complain about the drakkon scent that lingers on me, but it’s the sweetest perfume compared to the stench in this place.
But to answer your question...” I hesitated, then rushed on, “both my parents are dead, as is most of the advising council and military generals. You, Garran, are now Esan’s rightful king. ”
Horror and disbelief shot through his expression. “No, that can’t?—”
“It is,” I cut in flatly. “The Mareritt are working with the riders, and they developed a weapon that blew the war room apart. The only reason I’m standing here now is because I was in the military quarters visiting a sick soldier.”
“I knew the Mareritt and the riders were working together—that was evident enough at the encampment. But this—” He stopped and scrapped a hand down his face. “This is all too much to take in right now.”
“Oh, there’s more. But let’s get you and everyone else free from these chains first.” I glanced around briefly.
“There’s a stream at the base of the hill—everyone should go get some water before we lift off again, but don’t in any way wash everything off.
Your clothes won’t dry before we go home, and the last thing we need to deal with on top of everything else is hypothermia. ”
A smiled tugged at Garran’s lips. “Sounding like a grand commander there, Bryn.”
“I had no choice but to step into my father’s shoes, Garran, as there was no one else left. But I’ll gladly hand the reins over to you the minute you don’t look ready to collapse.”
As Aric had noted, I couldn’t be grand commander and a drakkon rider.
Even if it were possible to sever the link between me and Kaia without killing us both, thereby allowing me to continue as queen, I wouldn’t do it.
While past me had definitely railed against the injustice of being Rion’s only child and not being able lead my people because of my gender, the small taste I’d had over the last week had shown how na?ve I’d been.
I simply didn’t have the depth of knowledge and experience it needed.
Garran might also lack the latter, but he'd been taken under my father’s wing since becoming a teenager and had been taught the fine art of commanding with integrity, wisdom, and foresight from one of the best.
“And there is the cousin I love, always underestimating her abilities and skills.” He lightly flicked my nose, a gesture harking back to our early teenage years and all the time we’d spent together roaming the Jakarran wilds. “Free the others first.”
I dropped a kiss on his grimy cheek, then stepped back and began the long task of cutting the chains away from the metal rings. When each man was freed, he staggered to the door, sucked in a deep breath, then hobbled with varying degrees of stability down the hill toward the creek.
“You need that wound tended to,” I said when I finally released Garran. “We’ve enough problems without you coming down with a fever and infection.”
“We Jakarrans are a might tougher than that—it’s all the sea air. Walk with me—” He paused. “Can you walk?”
I wavered a hand. “Limp, walk, same thing.”
He snorted. “Then limp with me, and tell me everything that has been going on.”
As we stepped out of the cage, Kele walked over and returned my knife. “You want me to follow everyone down to the creek with a first-aid kit and do what I can about the worst of the wounds?”
“Please. But keep an eye out for any signs of approach, especially from above.”
She nodded, grabbed the first-aid kit from her packs, and then strode off after Garran’s men.
I met my cousin’s gaze again. “What about I fill you in as I’m treating that damn wound?”
He rolled his eyes at me, and it once again felt like old times. “You’re not going to let it go, are you, despite the fact there are men with wounds far worse than mine.”
“Those men are not the heir to Esan’s throne, nor are they one of the few close relatives I have left.”
“Ah, Bryn, I’m so sorry.” He threw his good arm around my shoulders and briefly hugged me.
“Thanks,” I murmured, desperate to keep the undertone of grief from my voice but not succeeding. I cleared my throat and motioned to a wide, flat stone near the platform’s edge. “Go sit over there while I grab my packs, and then I’ll tell you a story.”
He obeyed, his movements surer than those of most of his men; determined not to appear too weak, I suspected, rather than being in any better condition.