2. Rebels of Crindald
Rebels of Crindald
Kaiden
Kaiden welcomed the stinging sweat dripping off his brow and into his eyes.
It did little to distract the sharp pain pulsing through him.
The sun had begun its descent behind the black cliffs of Larth.
The Isle quickly became shadowed peaks of land protruding from an angry sea.
Dark waves crashed against the bloodstained beach, spraying mist across his face as he leaned down to wash his blade with salt water.
Wooden planks groaned and splintered as ships sank underneath foamy waves.
Fires burned as sailors screamed for help and pleaded to the gods to save them from a watery grave.
It had taken four months to burn out the rebellion blazing in Zenobia.
When their spy had finally confirmed Crindald’s rebel leader was attempting an escape on a ship to the Isle of Larth, Kaiden had wasted no time.
Not taking any chances, he had torched every ship in the harbor set to leave.
Merchants, spice traders, rebel sympathizers, or simple fishermen, it mattered not.
They were all bestowed the same fate. A fiery death by the Crown Prince of Arkan.
His insides burned with indignation for the innocent.
Yet he silenced his sympathy, burrowing it deep beneath the fake facade he donned every waking minute.
Let them curse his name or hex the Valencia house with terrible woes.
He was his father’s sword, and until he found the weapon which could bring the king to his knees, he would remain the dutiful son and destroy Arkan enemies.
“Your ships are destroyed. Your leader is gone. There is still a chance for the few who kneel. Pledge your allegiance to the Valencias and live to see another day. Deny, and lose your head.” Fintan Aariv’s voice rose behind Kaiden.
The strength and surety of it carried across the wind, weaving between the thirty rebels who stood in chains, surrounded by Arkan soldiers.
Kaiden tried to fill his lungs with fresh air, but the stench of death and piss seeped into his very pores and coated his armor.
The attack had been quick and lethal. Perhaps the people would later call it the Crindald massacre.
The only living sounds heard were stifled weeping of mothers and wives, squawking gulls who tore at bloated bodies, and the swaying chains of rebels who remained standing.
Under his orders, the townspeople had been herded to witness the consequences of those who defied the King of Arkan.
Thunder rolled beyond the sea angered by the tainted souls who sank into its depths.
Kaiden lifted his face to the sky as rain pelted his skin.
Cybelle, goddess of life, released her sorrow from the heavens, attempting to comfort the remaining innocent who now stood, rooted by fear and shrouded in misery.
Their painful gazes bore into Kaiden’s back as they waited for his orders.
They clung to one another, quieting their keening, and offering whispered prayers and guidance to the rebels who stood proudly amidst Fintan’s decree.
“The rebels will never kneel to your father.” Master Berenger, Arkan’s general, stepped up behind him.
Like a lion hungry for his next kill, Berenger was a constant thorn in Kaiden’s side.
A consistent hound who bayed for blood and violence.
With him, there were no innocent victims, no line to be wary of.
When the king’s temper was unleashed, Berenger was his dog, licking at his heels and desperate to achieve recognition or simple accolades for his evil deeds.
Kaiden fought in every meeting to keep Berenger on his leash.
Unfortunately, after the second month of quelling the rebellion, his father had sent Berenger to quicken the process.
The decimated village off the coast had been the worst. The bloodied child, weeping over her dead mother as she rocked back and forth, burned in the forefront of his mind, making his eyes water.
Berenger had shown no mercy. Kaiden closed his eyes.
Beads of sweat settled on his temple and upper lip as he felt his fire try to escape.
Help me! Please! Run! Have mercy!
Over and over again, he heard the tormented souls of the many victims who were struck down by the Valencia hand.
With every scream, he had watched soldiers ignore their pleas and slash through them like they were wheat in a field.
He had tried to save as many people as possible without his father finding out.
Between him and Fintan they had saved hundreds.
A small feat given hundreds of thousands had been slaughtered.
Kaiden turned, holding in his sigh and smoothing his features into a mask of ruthless indifference, even as his heart thumped in his chest.
“You know what you must do.” Berenger said loud enough for the first line of rebels to cast hateful glares in their direction. “Your father’s orders were at all cost.” Berenger licked his lips and spit at the feet of a rebel.
“Enough.” Kaiden glared down his nose at Berenger. “I’ll be the one giving the orders.” He stepped closer, ensuring Berenger flinched at the heat brimming from his reigned in magic. “Don’t ever tell me what my father’s orders are. I know them better than you.”
It was enough to silence Berenger as he bowed his head, but Kaiden was smart enough to not turn his back to him as he called for Fintan.
At five and twenty Kaiden had seen enough of war to last him a lifetime.
Each memory became more vivid and unbearable than the last. He was unable to push them away as easily as he had in the past. Innocence was not to be silenced.
Unjust deaths filled his ears and drowned his thoughts, clawing at his subconscious and begging to be heard.
Fintan’s presence was a comfort at his shoulder.
His cropped black hair shimmered underneath the pouring rain and glistened against the steel of his armor.
He was taller than most Arkaniens and had as much expectation weighing on his shoulders as Kaiden did.
Trained since birth to take his father’s place, Fintan was to be the next chancellor.
His black skin gleamed as the sun shrank behind the clouds, turning its face from the slaughter that would ensue if Kaiden allowed Berenger to take charge.
“Did you find their leader?” Kaiden turned to Fintan, keeping his voice low.
“It's certainly not safe to assume he’s at the bottom of Decimus’s depths.” Fintan’s voice rumbled with agitation. His honeyed eyes held the weariness of years past his seven and twenty.
“If we can’t get the rebels back to Arkan without a fight there’s no telling what orders the king’s given to the general.” Kaiden hated to acknowledge his bluff to Berenger. The truth was his father was a loose cannon. No one knew what his next order or decision would be or who it would include.
“Then take the lead.” Fintan nodded toward the rebels.
Understanding rippled through Kaiden as he stepped forward and faced the restless captives.
With Fintan at his right and Berenger at his left he had no worries for his own safety, yet as lightning ripped through the skies, he couldn’t help the uneasy feeling that the gods were certainly watching him.
“You have lost much today. I beseech you to not let your pride get in the way of your surrender. Is blindness to a man who has deserted you truly worth your life?” Kaiden looked at each rebel.
Some glared in complete abhorrence, others glanced at one another, their loyalty wavering against their will to live. “Is it worth theirs?”
He stretched his hand out toward the weeping sympathizers who cowered and shouted in fear. His soldiers broadened their circle, encompassing the entire crowd, leaving no bystander out of harm's reach.
Please. He silently pleaded, hoping they could read the desperation from his eyes. Don’t make this any worse than it needs to be.
It only took one rebel to kneel for another to follow. Just one who would break their resistance, yet none bent to his will.
Berenger shifted on his feet. The knowledge that Kaiden would have to make good his threat created a sickening glee which split his face into a devilish grin.
Fintan stepped forward, tension shifted his brows into a scowl of disdain. “Think about what is being presented to you. A chance to save these people who have offered you shelter and food at the risk of their own lives — their children’s lives!”
“We’d rather die by the sword than die in the hands of the King of Arkan.” A weak shout was heard from the back.
Kaiden searched in vain for the person the voice belonged to, but each rebel began throwing their own agreements and colorful slurs.
They rattled their chains and shook with fury, stepping forward as one.
Kaiden shook his head, standing his ground.
He knew where this would end. Who could compare against the mighty force of Arkan after all?
“So be it,” he said.
“Kaiden.” Fintan turned to him in warning.
“We can’t help these ones,” he whispered under his breath. He turned to Berenger. “I’ll need at least ten alive.”
Berenger nodded, his eyes lit with the promise of violence. “Advance!”
Kaiden turned, like a coward, and stared out at the sea.
He had long lost the stomach to face all the bloodshed.
Not when there was no chance of survival.
Not when the people were fighting for the very freedom he dreamed of having.
The freedom he searched for within every city and hovel, countryside and ruins.
He had felt it only days ago. The flicker of his magic depleted from his ruby potent ring then returned, estranged and searching for a likeness he had never felt before.
Every highborn would have felt it and known a priestess of Qualan still lived.
It was a split second before the screaming began.
Kaiden flinched inwardly, diving deep within his mind for any type of solitude.
His gaze bore on a single blue sail far out within the roaring sea.
It faded into the mist like a promise of vengeance, and Kaiden knew without a doubt that the Crindald leader was aboard.
Safe from Arkan’s reach, he had borne witness from his small boat to the annihilation of his followers and the safe haven he had called home for months.
The knowledge offered a small reprieve to Kaiden as he silently hoped for his return.
One day, if Kaiden did not achieve his father’s demise, he hoped the leader would return and end the tyrannical king. Even if it meant ending him as well.
The slaughter was over as quick as a summer storm.
Kaiden kept his gaze glued to the sea, unlike Fintan, who bore witness to the injustice as he always did, like it was his burden to bear.
From the corner of Kaiden’s eye, he watched Fintan’s gaze cut from the rebels who laid lifeless on the ground, to the civilians who had tried to stand in front and protect the ones they called friends — or worse — family.
Berenger had kept his word and now shoved ten depleted rebels into metal cages, preparing them to be carted off to Arkan. “Walk on.” He slammed the bars closed, locking the captives in.
An elderly woman’s wail reached a deafening height and Kaiden whipped his head around as soldiers began to shout in warning behind him.
“You are a plague across this land Kaiden Valencia.” Fury ran in her voice and she fell into the arms of his guards who held her back.
Blood coated the blue of her ragged dress.
The silver of her hair was singed and tousled in a mess of curls, but her tearstained eyes were clear and sharp as daybreak.
Her brown irises, turning wholly black as she cursed him to the day he was born.
A single finger was thrust out as she glared with all her might.
“What you have taken from us today, the gods will take tenfold.
May you feel the heartbreak of your loved ones' souls ripped from this earth and may every golden Valencia head be purged from this realm, starting with the bastard of a king who sits on the bones of our people!”
Her cry was silenced as a soldier plunged his sword into her core. Still, her haunting gaze never left his, even as death clouded her eyes and face slackened. She would follow him past the beyond and join in the multitude of victims who haunted him.
Kaiden jerked as a hand was placed upon his shoulder.
“Easy.” Fintan held his hands up and nodded toward Berenger who approached with a smile on his face as if they accomplished a great victory.
“The king will be pleased by your actions here today. You showed strength and steel.”
I showed cowardice and was merciless. The exact opposite of what I want to embody as a ruler.
Berenger did not stop there. “You become more and more like him every day.” He looked Kaiden up and down as if appraising his work and found him sufficient.
Disgust roiled in the pit of Kaiden’s stomach.
There was nowhere in Peraynia where he could conceal the knowledge that he was his father’s son.
While his sister had identical sky blue eyes, like their mother, Kaiden had inherited their father’s inky blue, mirroring the deepest part of the ocean.
Unlike the custom for male Arkanian warriors, his blond hair touched the top of his ears and was cropped in the back.
Short, unruly waves fell across his forehead, but did nothing to hide his thick scowl, which seemed to be permanently etched into his features.
It only sharpened the angles on his face making him appear cold and distant.
Kaiden rolled his eyes and walked past Berenger. “Let’s put all this behind us.”
He lifted his foot into the stirrup of his saddle and mounted his steed with precision only a warrior could obtain.
As distance eased the stiffness of his shoulders, the chilling image of the elderly woman still clung to him like a wraith grasping for life.
He rolled his shoulders with a crack, as unease pulled at his nerves.
Somewhere beyond the Veil where Ukoron, god of chaos, resided, a dark chuckle rumbled and tormented the very threads of his mind.