Ruined Kingdom Page 13

  Where the hell am I? A quick survey of the barred windows told her she was incarcerated somewhere and it was early morning. The cell was clean, with basic amenities like lighting, running water and some light blue cloth bedding covering the cot where she lay. This was assuredly not an Imperial cell. Gripping the metal edge of the cot, she pulled herself up to a sitting position. There she stayed for a while, waiting for the spinning in her head and intermittent blurred vision to ebb. When she felt sound enough, she stood on the cot and peered through the bars to look outside.

  Immediately she recognized the white brick buildings with large mirrored windows and well-manicured streets. She was only slightly relieved. Off to the left she was just able to make out the white stone hospital and research facility. It was sleek and modern, so unlike the one Megolyth had built her at the Empire. Harlan had forgone any modern aesthetics on the outside to ensure that she had the latest technology on the inside. The Emperor was such a cheap son-of-a-bitch. Everything she purchased for the new hospital had been painstakingly scrutinized by his financial advisors, as though she would buy some piece of fluff equipment that wasn't essential. It incensed her that his half-wit sycophants dared to decide what was necessary and what was not.

  Harlan was pretty sure if someone from Megolyth's family needed some advanced medical equipment he would have raged at her for not having it. Luckily, she kept detailed notes about her requests and their interactions. Harlan was more afraid of the nobles than she was of the Emperor, though she would never admit it to anyone. Just thinking about how he'd treated Gavin a year ago boiled her blood. But, based on her surroundings, she had bigger issues at the moment.

  Though it had been a few years since her last visit to the Razorback Queendom, its modern architecture was an anomaly on AEssyria and hard not to recognize. Few places on the planet were so staunchly well maintained and had such modern conveniences. Even those kingdoms that were somewhat progressive still exhibited an extremely militant look. Although the Queendom was a matriarchal society, it was just as militant as the others. The only difference Harlan could see was that over here, the women were in charge. Harlan was sure the Queen and her predecessors wanted to separate themselves from the male-ruled kingdoms in more ways than just borders. They wanted to flaunt what they believed was their superiority.

  Gypsy had told Harlan that her friend and fellow human, Dr. Sam Nichols, had left the Queendom and taken a position with the Triumvirate. His departure confused Harlan and made her feel even more isolated. Sam liked his creature comforts and the warm weather, so she couldn't imagine why he would have moved to the colder, less hospitable mountain region after so many years. Maybe, as a male, he was tired of being treated like a second class citizen.

  A short series of high pitched beeps bled in from the outside of her cell. The thick metal door slid open and Khalee entered with a tray of food. She placed her hand on the inner keypad and there was another series of beeps. The door closed behind her. The young Razorback woman stopped in her tracks, staring at Harlan with curiosity. Harlan stepped down from where she was standing on her cot. To put Khalee at ease she took a seat on a chair bolted to the floor.

  Khalee hesitated then carried the tray over and placed it on a table. “How do you feel?”

  Harlan’s entire body was sore but at least the painful cloud in her mind was clearing. “Like a steaming pile of hyperia shit. Thanks for asking.” Deciding to make a conscious effort to get along, she softened her tone and added, “At least I'm better than when I woke up. How did I get here?”

  “You were taken from the Imperial throne room. The Queen is really angry about what you did to Caraculla. She demanded that Megolyth punish you or turn you over. I'm sorry to say he handed you over without the least bit of fuss.” She paused thoughtfully. “I was surprised. I had heard you were friends with him.”

  “The Queen is angry with me? Well that's a fucking joke! As for Megolyth, I wouldn't expect him to take the high ground on anything these days. I was more than a friend to him once. Unfortunately, over the years he has smoothly transitioned into everything bad about the nobility.” Harlan tenderly rubbed her head. “Why don’t I remember anything?”

  The Razorback frowned, her gaze suddenly finding more interest in the tray of food. “When you entered the throne room, a Razorback detail from the Queendom was positioned in an alcove. They hit you with a blow dart loaded with a tranquilizer the minute you started yelling at the Emperor. We were ordered to make sure you didn’t try to get word to your family.”

  “Just Perfect.” A flash of indignant anger made Harlan’s head hurt all over again. “So you drugged me like an animal? Nice. Did you ever consider talking to me instead? I thought you swore an oath of loyalty to my husband. You are supposed to be my bodyguard.”

  “I’m sorry, Harlan, and I know how this looks, but I volunteered for this so I could protect you. Regardless of my involvement you were going to be brought back to the Queendom. I came because I could help you here and keep you informed as to what’s going on.”

  “What’s happened to Gavin?”

  “Last I heard he was still in the Emperor’s jail.”

  What an ungrateful asshole Megolyth is. Harlan wasn't sure if she was more angry or hungry. She stared at the food and wondered if they were planning to drug her some more. What's the difference? They already have me here. Physically I'm not much of a threat. She took a few quick bites of the fruit that sat on the plate next to a slice of cooked meat. It quieted her stomach.

  “So what is going on?” she said, still chewing.

  Khalee sat cross legged on the floor and sighed. “You have an audience with the Queen later this afternoon. I imagine she will give you an earful. Then I don't know. You may end up with a prison sentence. She said she hasn't made any decisions yet. I guess she wants to hear your side in all of this. You are probably safer here anyway, even if you are in jail.”

  “What exactly does that mean? I have a small child who needs me. I don't have time to waste answering to Nineveh’s self-righteous bullshit.”

  Khalee hesitated. “I don't think you fully realize what's going on.”

  “Well then why don't you enlighten me? Where is my family?”

  “Harlan, the Empire is in bad shape. Your family is not in jail for now, but the Emperor has put very large bounties out for Gypsy and Desmond. It might only be a matter of time before they get captured and turned over to him.”

  “What? I don't understand. Why would he do that?”

  “Because the Empire is falling apart. Megolyth has overspent his tax revenue and many of the nobles are tired of making up the difference. He can’t pay the regular army and even the Imperial Guards haven't been paid. Troops are deserting and I'm sure I don't have to tell you how dangerous that is. The only men still loyal are the Royal Guards because they are the only ones still being paid. Everyone is on edge and powerful men are trying to take over.”

  “Which powerful men?” Harlan could only think of Molitov Von Goth, but she knew him fairly well and was pretty sure the last thing he wanted was the burdensome throne. He could barely stand ruling as regent those many years ago. But she knew he would do whatever was necessary to protect the realm.

  “No one here knows for sure. There were some rumors a few weeks ago that Gavin was meeting secretly with Augustus von Goth, but no one knows the truth except them.”

  Harlan thought about that for a moment. Augustus! Yikes! Harlan had only met him a few times at formal functions. He was pleasant enough, but she had never heard a nice thing about him. Then, of course, there were the rumors of his brutal training of Gypsy. Harlan never confronted her but she heard the gossip. Gypsy was an adult who made her own choices, but that didn't make it any easier. Harlan hated the thought of someone torturing her child for his own sexual gratification. The talk had sickened her and she feared for her daughter’s safety.

  Those were her feelings until she saw her daughter's match with Tye Wynter. Harlan was sure
that without Augustus' training, her daughter would have been dead and for that she was eternally grateful, no matter what the cost. Harlan was pleased she’d delivered Augustus' first child, a healthy baby boy, less than two months ago. His wife, Devah, who feared she might be barren, was elated.

  Surprisingly, he had been there for the birth and even held the baby. Harlan kind of believed he was only there to ensure it was a son, but after watching him with the infant she wasn’t sure. She could imagine him just as happy with a girl. He genuinely seemed to have a love of family. Was that why he helped Gypsy hone her combat abilities? Was there some part of him that wanted to help and save her even though she was a woman warrior? Who knew?

  Harlan stood and stared at Khalee. “I have to get out of here. My family needs help.”

  “I understand, Harlan, really I do,” Khalee said. “But don’t panic. I’m sure the Queen just wants to express her outrage at what you did. Maybe she will release you once she is out of steam.”

  “Oh really? And what if she gives me a five or ten year prison sentence? Then what?”

  “I was there, remember? Even as a Razorback I could see how unstable and dangerous Caraculla was. Your solution was a bit unorthodox, but I agree with what you did. You don't have to convince me that he was a menace. But you do have to convince the Queen, and I can help you do that.” Khalee stood and smiled. “I will return to check on you later.”

  “Where is Rakon? How come he didn't come back with you?”

  Khalee looked off toward the door with a hint of sadness. “Much like your husband, he is not welcome here. There are few males that the Queen despises more than Rakon. I'm sure it is no surprise to you that I haven't told her of my relationship with him. The few times he has talked to the Queen he's been crass and has shown her absolutely no respect. Well, I don’t have to tell you. You know him.” Khalee gave a brief grin. “But I do miss him.”

  Harlan smiled. Rakon had some rough edges, but she liked him. There was nothing complicated about him and he always treated her well. Maybe it was just because he was afraid of Gavin, but in her heart Harlan knew he wasn't afraid of anything. For some strange reason Rakon just seemed to like her too.

  Khalee made her way over to the cell door. “Everything will be fine, Harlan.”

  “I wish I could believe that. Thanks for the food and information.” Harlan picked another piece of fruit off the tray as Khalee left and the door closed behind her.

  Even though she was thankful for the update, she really wanted to be alone. The terror she felt at Gavin and Missy's fate was dragging any hope she had down into an abyss. She wasn't as much afraid for Gypsy and Desmond because they were both crafty, capable soldiers and were still free. Like her, Gavin had been ambushed by his friend. Consumed by her worry for Missy and Gavin, she laid down on the bed, squeezing her eyes closed. Please don't let anything happen to Missy or Gavin. My poor baby. Both her father and I are gone now. I should have never left her. I really thought everything would be okay. I have to hang onto hope. Gypsy will keep her safe. I know she will.

  * * * *

  Hours passed, though she wasn't quite sure how many. Having finished her food, she was peering out one of the small exterior windows when she noticed a repetitive noise, faint at first, but steadily getting louder. The sound carried the memory of familiar spurs as they echoed down the stone hallway. Closer and closer down the corridor the rhythmic jangling danced in time to a slow even pace.

  The cadence stopped at her cell door. Caraculla came into view through the partial bars and all Harlan could do was watch as he moved his hand over the keypad. The beeps seemed menacing this time. The door slid open. Strolling into the cell confidently, his eyes never left hers. Then he closed the door behind him.

  “Hello, Harlan.”

  A sharp chill froze her heart. What was he doing here? The two words he had uttered were deep and raspy, as though he had been screaming for days.

  Prowling toward her, he passed under the main overhead light. His expression was pure evil and it caused her to gasp when his features became clearer. The vibrant, light green eyes she had looked into for so many years were hollow, dark and bloodshot. They were also narrow and mean, sitting above a rust colored half mask that covered his nose and mouth. Squinting through the dim lighting she caught sight of some disfiguring cuts under his jaw. Those didn't look like combat injuries.

  “How did you get in here?” she said, sitting down on her cot. The thought of yelling for help did occur to her, but she knew Caraculla was too smart to overlook such a detail. Besides, she didn’t think her yelling would matter. There was no one around that didn't belong to him.

  “I was born and raised here. There are a lot of people willing to do me favors.” His eyes gleamed with amusement and she trembled slightly.

  “What have you done to yourself?” she whispered. The question was more to herself than him.

  Caraculla glared and took a few threatening steps forward. His spurs clinked with each step he took. “You did this to me.”

  “Take off your mask.”

  “No!”

  “I want to see what they did to you.”

  “There is no they! This is your fault!” he snarled.

  The hatred in his words burned deep into her soul. Harlan was so sure he was going to kill her right there that she withdrew to the cot and slid as far back as she could. Resisting the urge to close her eyes, she pressed against the wall feeling its coolness through her shirt.

  “What I did to you I could have easily reversed. This isn't my work and you know it.”

  Caraculla's shoulders dipped slightly, releasing some of their tension. Even his eyes seemed to soften a little. “Don’t concern yourself with it. It’s irrelevant. It is done. I understand why you did it but that doesn't mean I forgive you.”

  “What the hell do you want from me, Caraculla?”

  Caraculla stopped a few feet from her. His gaze became thoughtful as he pulled his gloves off and dropped them on the table. “Why do I have to want anything? I came because I missed you. We were closer once, you and I. Remember?”

  A wave of sorrow made her eyes sting. “Of course I remember. But we're not so close anymore. Your last visit to my home solidified that. You're the one who changed, not me.”

  “Everyone changes, Harlan. I wouldn't have hurt you or Missy.”

  “I don't believe you. You were so drunk and high, I doubt you even remember the encounter.”

  “Oh, I remember every detail,” he said with such soft perversity Harlan pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

  “Please take your mask off. I want to see you.”

  Caraculla knelt on the cot. The metal slats beneath complained loudly under his weight. Having him this close overflowed her emotions with a frightened sorrow. As he angrily tore the mask from his face she could feel the palpable threat in the air. His quiet rage promised violence and defilement.

  Harlan reached out and ran the tip of her index finger along one of the thick scars under his jaw. Her fingers trembled with the contact. Gently she turned his chin, surveying the damage to the other side. He slapped her hand away angrily and leaned back with an icy leer. Harlan tried so hard to hate him, but it wouldn’t come. All she felt was an impenetrable sadness. With stoic calm he moved closer.

  Harlan squeezed as far away from him as she could. She was suddenly overcome with such terrible sorrow that it shrouded all of her other emotions; fear, anger, and frustration at her helplessness.

  Even under the strain of his addiction and with his throat torn up he was still so breathtakingly handsome. So much love and potential wasted. Harlan still believed he was a sick man, not an evil one. Gavin blamed himself for his protégé’s failings, but she knew that addiction was either part of your hardwiring or not. Her husband was an alcoholic by earth standards, but he had boundaries. She wanted to believe Gavin’s wife, children, and career were more important than alcohol.

  Caraculla
had been sober for many years. But like all junkies, the moment he felt overwhelmed in loss, he shielded himself from the pain with his oldest, most faithful companion. The Razorback's affinity for narcotics defeated everything else in his life—his career, his good sense and even his desire for love.

  In the face of Caraculla's addiction, Dragon's madness seemed almost benign and simplistic. Dragon wanted to get better. Gavin's brother had never been given choices. He was forever at the mercy of his father, Titan's, whims. That slimy bastard had robbed Dragon of any potential life he could have lived. Forgiving Dragon's missteps was much easier than forgiving Caraculla's. Caraculla had been given countless opportunities to maintain control, but his vice overcame all.

  Harlan couldn’t count the number of times she’d helped Caraculla through his enslavement to narcotics. Sadly, she thought they had finally won. Until last year she was sure he had been sober for close to fifteen years. Harlan knew there had been a few brief relapses during Gypsy’s childhood. But Caraculla always bounced back with so much resilience that she truly thought he had control of that demon. How wrong could I have been? But Harlan still loved him. She loved him like a brother, like a father, a best friend and a son. He'd been such an integral part of their lives for so long it was impossible to just cut him out and cast him away.

  There was a time when he had been her closest friend and confidant. Not only had he helped her through some difficult times with Gavin, he had encouraged her to stay strong. Gavin was the only thing keeping her on AEssyria, and more than once she had thought of abandoning the planet and returning home. It would have been hard on Gypsy, but she would have adapted. It was during those hours of indecision that Caraculla had convinced her to stay and struggle through the hardship. “It will all be worth it in the end. You'll see...please trust me, Harlan. Don't leave. I know him. You need each other.” She couldn’t even remember how many times he’d said that to her. Strangely enough he turned out to be right.