Young Writers Society

Prologue

When Angus Julian was nine years old his parents died and he became the ruler of his land. Grief overcame the young boy and as a result, he vented his anger by ordering his soldiers to loot neighbouring lands. Such behaviour was frowned upon by his advisors until the day his soldiers returned from their latest rampage declaring that they had conquered the most sought after land – Ajude.

Ajude was a land of treasures. Fine robes were produced by women whose skin was as smooth as the silk they worked with. Gold was hidden in the deserts along with rubies and pearls, the water of the rivers had magical healing properties, and the buildings there were made of marble and alabaster, hand crafted by the ingenious architects that lived there.

Angus was, naturally, pleased with the work of his soldiers and decided that there would be no more purges on neighbouring lands for he had conquered the greatest land on Earth.

The rulers of other neighbouring lands saw this change in mood as a chance to make peace with Angus Julian. They each sent him gifts of congratulations. The rulers of the icy north sent him coats made from the fur of the national bear and the purest alcoholic spirits in all the lands. Not wanting to be outdone by their northern neighbours the rulers of the west hand delivered their finest artists and musicians for Angus Julian’s own pleasure and built him stupendous summer homes in their valleys and mountains. The ever pleasing easterners sent hundreds of varieties of spices and herbs that cost a fortune and the somewhat less extravagant southerners dispatched thousands of their own slaves to Angus Julian to keep the great leader pleased.

Pleased he was, for in the midst of all his gifts and treasures Angus Julian forgot all about Ajude the land of treasures. He became a happy man thanks to the gifts his fellow neighbours had offered him. He met and married the most beautiful woman in the land and together they created an heir for the great leader. At this point in his life, the wonderful Angus Julian was happier than he had ever been.

It wasn’t until his supply of spirits was drained, his entertainment grew dull and his spices spoiled that he remembered about his latest conquest. With the promise of an endless supply of treasures Angus Julian ordered his troops to travel back to Ajude, the land of treasures and return with gifts for him. Little did he know that in the years that had passed since Ajude, the land of treasures had become his land, his soldiers had either retired, fled or died.

Devastated that Ajude, the land of treasures was unattainable to him Angus Julian fell into despair and depression. The great leader locked himself into his room where he lay upon his four poster, gold plated bed feeling sorry for himself. The people of his land grew fearful that their great leader had left the mortal world whilst locked in his personal prison and so it was under the orders of a lead advisor that a complementary southern slave entered the room of the great leader to check whether he was in fact, dead.

Angus Julian was not dead. In fact, the great leader had a sudden cunning idea the moment the complementary southern slave entered the room: the southern slaves would become southern soldiers.

Training began immediately; the slaves were put through countless hours of physical and mental exercises to prepare them for any dangers or troubles they may face when taking treasures out of Ajude. After months of preparation, the former slaves set sail to Ajude. On arrival the soldiers took charge and –following the orders of their great leader – persecuted anyone who got in their way.

Angus Julian received letters from his general who wrote eloquently of the wonders of Ajude, the land of treasures. He wrote of the gold and silver found in the deserts and seashores, the welcoming, peaceful and hardworking natives, the marvellous, stupendous buildings filled with delightful silks and cloths and gold tables. The wonderful pros and over use of sophisticated adjectives mesmerised Angus Julian who decided that the best possible way for him to experience the wonders of Ajude would be to travel there and join his soldiers. So the young leader set sail to Ajude. He left behind all of his wonderful gifts and belongings because he knew that they would be insignificant compared to the wonders that lay ahead of him. He left his finest chefs, musicians, artists, historians, writers, teachers, doctors, carpenters, women, butlers, and academics to please themselves. He abandoned his rubies, pearls, diamonds, gold, silver, china, crystal and precious stones to gather dust. He ignored his finest robes, shoes, boots, hats, curtains, carpets and furnishings and headed straight past his grandest boat over to a small humble one owned by a small, humble fisherman. He took with him only his pet eagle a beautiful specimen his parents had given him when he was a child. He sailed in the modest boat with his family for six months encountering many hardships along the way including seasickness, insomnia and starvation.

When he eventually arrived on the Promised Land, Angus Julian was greeted by a crowd of his soldiers all cheering and waving and praising him. He was also greeted by an angry mob. Hundreds of natives had gathered along the shore awaiting his arrival in order to express their disgruntlement with him and his soldiers for invading, attacking and looting them. When he set foot on solid ground, Angus Julian was shocked to find the angry mob hurtling stones and pelting other hard, solid objects in his direction. He was shocked not only by their hostility but that his general had obviously lied to him in his letters, for he had claimed that the natives were welcoming and peaceful. In a fit of rage Angus Julian ordered his soldiers to kill each and every native upon the beach, even those not hurtling stones or pelting large, solid things in his direction, an act he would later come to regret.

After the somewhat unanticipated massacre the soldiers led Angus Julian to his accommodation which was situated in the large town of Melasurej. On their way the leader and his soldiers were required to make a difficult decision. In order to reach Melasurej they were required to do one of two things. Either; take the three day journey through the pleasant mountains, down into a beautiful valley, through several traditional villages and across a sunny hillside or navigate their way through the large, arid, dangerous desert. To most the choice was not at all difficult: a three day excursion in the countryside sampling traditional cultures and getting to know the beautiful rugged landscape of Ajude, land of treasures or a possibly life threatening trip through a desert that you may never leave. However, Angus remembered the words of his general, the words that told of the gold scattered all throughout the deserts of Ajude. Angus Julian made his decision in an instant and opted for the latter of the two options much to the disappointment of his wife who enjoyed painting landscapes. The accompanying soldiers were also reluctant to cross the large, arid, dangerous desert but Angus Julian had an incentive that they could not refuse. He promised them that they would have their share of any gold found passing through the desert.

They travelled for a day and a night and encountered many hardships including sunstroke, dehydration and swelling of the ankles. Not once did Angus Julian find any gold whatsoever. When they finally reached the walled city of Melasurej the soldiers were exhausted, hungry and thirsty, they demanded their gold but of course, Angus Julian had none for he had left all of his worldly possessions back in his palaces and the desert had gifted him with nothing. As the two soldiers grew increasingly angry Angus Julian grew increasingly frustrated and called for two other soldiers from within the city’s walls to silence them. The weary Angus Julian allowed the two new soldiers to escort him to his new home.

As he walked through the hot, cramped, noisy city Angus Julian became content in the knowledge that his new home would be as marvellous as described to him in the letters sent to him from his general. But he was once again disheartened by what lay in front of him. Angus Julian was to live in a one storey, tiny, old, crumbling hut of a house with no furniture or carpeting or even window panes. All he was given was a native slave to serve him hard, mouldy bread and weak, corked wine. In yet another fit of rage Angus Julian killed the innocent slave with his bare hands, something he would soon regret for the brother of the brutally murdered slave had witnessed the killing and sought to take revenge.

With no means to return to his old land Angus Julian had no choice but to try and live with his new life in Ajude. He ordered that his soldiers build him a new home that would better accommodate his selfish needs and saw to it that his general was disposed of. His new home was placed on the top of the hill that Melasurej was build on; there he had an impressive view of the city, a small orchard and roof terrace all next to a sparkling stream.

Twelve months of depression and bitterness later Angus Julian had come to terms with his new life and looked forward to slowly but surely rebuilding many of the towns in Ajude and erecting statues of him and his family. He had met with the current leaders of Ajude and after a not so friendly meeting, killed the ones who opposed him. One leader however, made a pact with the great Angus Julian; he agreed to govern his region of Elgalie on behalf of Angus Julian and in exchange Angus Julian would not kill him. The agreement was settled and the two leaders went their separate ways.

Now that his soldiers had taken control of the many towns of Ajude he had almost forgotten all of his previous woes. The brother of the murdered native slave however, had not. Haunted by what he had witnessed that fateful afternoon the brother whose name was Rabbo planned to avenge his dead brother by killing Angus Julian.

Rabbo gathered a group of friends together, all of whom were annoyed and upset with the invading of their land. Together they formed a group that would plot to end the life of Angus Julian; they called themselves the Danaks named after Danak who was killed. After accumulating over one hundred members Rabbo the Danak and the other Danaks sneaked into the bedroom of Angus Julian and stabbed him in the neck. The plan was seemingly successful as they watched Angus Julian wither like a snake but they had not taken into account the armed soldiers that guarded and protected Angus Julian and his family. Rabbo and the majority of the Danaks were slaughtered on the spot with only a handful escaping.

The dying Angus Julian knew that his time was almost over but in his final moments he recalled the news of healing waters his general had reported in his letters. Using the remains of his energy Angus Julian crawled from his bed outside to the sparkling stream in his orchard. Blood and bodily fluids gushing from his neck, the great leader drank from the stream waiting in earnest for the life giving properties of the water to heal his wounds. But the wounds did not heal no matter how much Angus Julian drank. Two minutes later the guards found Angus Julian’s lifeless body at the edge of the stream soaked with blood and water.

500 Years Later

Matt had ten days of summer left before he returned to college. It was a disheartening thought for the young writer who preferred lounging around in the open Ajude fields than cramped in a hot, stuffy lecture theatre. The fact that he’d finished none of his essays didn’t make him feel any better either. Sighing, Matt got up from the ground where he’d been lying and set to make his way back home to Elgalie. It would be a long walk, and Matt wished he’d bothered to bring his motorbike with him. As he walked along the dusty path that would take him home he spotted a group of people up ahead, Matt slowed down and squinted to get a better look at the group. He could see five or six tall guys around his age all dressed in black despite the raging sun. To his despair Matt saw as he drew nearer that they all wore the mark of Julian, a silver chain with a silver pendant of an eagle’s head. Matt gulped and clutched at his own pendant in his trouser pocket; the Elgaliean lion, a gold pendant he wore at all times. It was a sign of independence from the Julian regime. This would mean trouble; those who lived in Elgalie were seen as independent from the rest of Ajude thanks to a 500 year old deal between the legendary Angus Julian and the ruler of Elgalie and this angered the Julians.

Matt kept his head up as he came closer to the gang, he was on their turf, he was in Occupied Ajude but maybe they wouldn’t say a thing. Up ahead, just a little beyond the gang of Julians was the ‘border’ an invisible line marking the start of Elgalie and the end of Occupied Ajude. Sometimes Matt wondered why, after 500 years it was still called Occupied Ajude, wouldn’t it be easier to simply call it Ajude and the Republic of Elgalie. But of course the Elgalieans still saw themselves as Ajudeans.

Matt held his breath as he approached the gang. In his head he considered his possibilities should a violent situation arise; Matt had been in fights before he was agile and could pack a punch if required but this gang outnumbered him six to one and no matter how many punches he packed Matt would not be able to fight his way out of this one.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the tallest member of the gang asked as Matt reached them and attempted to casually walk past. Matt stopped in his tracks as the other five Julians encircled him.

“I’m going to my home,” Matt replied avoiding eye-contact with any of the thugs.

“Where do you live?” asked the thug who Matt assumed was their leader. He contemplated whether to lie or not, should he tell them he lived in Elgalie? Or lie and find a different route home? Feeling his pendant in his pocket Matt decided to tell the truth.

“I live in Elgalie,” he said. The Julian thugs’ amused smiles fell and were replaced with looks of icy coldness.

“This is Julian Ajude,” the leader said in a low and threatening voice “Why are you here if you live over there?” he jerked his thumb at the invisible border.

“I’m an Ajudean,” Matt replied calmly “I’m entitled to travel where ever I please,” The leader snarled, and nodded at the others;

“Not without a price,” he said.

On the edge of Lake Elgalie sat the Battered Bass a ramshackle yet hip lakeside bar. Specializing in fish dishes and strong spirits, the Battered Bass had a reputation for being the best ramshackle yet hip bar in all of Elgalie. Fish were caught from the lake, the only lake in all of Ajude, and therefore its cool reputation, specialty fish and close proximity to the border meant that people from both Occupied Ajude and Elgalie frequented it.

But the main reason the Battered Bass was so popular was because of its owner. Yohann Piper was twenty four year old wild boy who opened the shack with his own money, a typical bar owner he would entertain his customers with tales of his adventures, songs he’d composed himself and imaginative dares that would usually involve drinking an entire pint of whiskey. Yohann wasn’t just good fun though, he was a good listener and gave good advice, running the most popular ramshackle yet hip bar meant that Yohann listened to a lot of conversations, whether he was meant to hear them or not. Yohann heard many tales that troubled him, tales of rebellion of war and of death. As much as Yohann enjoyed the free spirited, party lifestyle he was, at heart a simple man who wanted nothing more than to go to bed after a long day.

Recently Yohann had been hearing of the mistreatment of Ajudeans in the Occupied areas, the soldiers had been beating them and forcing them to pay higher taxes than the Julians. It angered Yohann, because his mother and father lived in Occupied Ajude and had not yet been able to afford a new home in Elgalie. In his head Yohann had been concocting more than just cocktails and high tales, he’d secretly been imagining himself overthrowing the High Commander in Occupied Ajude. He’d imagined that he would rally a crowd of followers and march Melasurej with them. There they would rally more followers, more supporters until everybody had converted to their way of thinking and the Julians would finally leave after 500 years of misery.

But of course, these were just ideas he’d imagined. Yohann was a thinker not a doer. He’d never be able to control a crowd, keep a cool head or any of the other things a leader is expected to do, which was a shame because he knew full well that his ideas were good enough to succeed.

His current thoughts were interrupted by a rowdy group of young men entering the Battered Bass. Yohann recognized them at once as his most loyal customers; brothers Rai and Taran entered laughing and joking followed by their best friends and also brothers Rock and Argo.

Argo and Rai both worked for him, both were part time barkeepers. Today was their day off and they had come to the Battered Bass to relax with their brothers. Yohann was glad they’d arrived, the Battered Bass had been having a quiet day and their rowdiness brought a little bit of atmosphere to the place.

“Hey guess who I saw strutting along the border?” Rock asked. Rock was always a gossip; he loved Yohann’s tales more than anyone else and would listen eagerly whenever he told one. “Only that wannabe writer Matthew, looked to me like he’d cheated his way across the Julians’ line again, grinning like a fool he was, and in his hand he had a whole bag of cash!” The other boys all rolled their eyes and muttered their disapprovals. Yohann stayed quiet and carried on cleaning the glass in his hand. He didn’t like talking about other people when they weren’t around.

“That kid knows how to roll dice,” Rai said “Last month he tricked ten Julian’s into paying him five hundred pounds! I have a lot of respect for him!” he grinned into his cup and laughed, but Taran scowled;

“He also conned Zac into playing him twice and taking his money twice!”

“Who’s Zac?” Yohann asked.

“He works out on the lake with our Dad,” Taran explained. Taran and Rai’s father was a fisherman. He caught all of the best fish from the lake and sold them in the market every Tuesday. Rai and Taran helped him fish but both had began to go their separate ways. Rai was interested in history and spent most of his free time in the local university’s library and Taran had taken an interest in cliff diving. “I lose all respect for him if he’s conning our people too,” Taran continued.

“I don’t respect him at all,” Argo said bluntly “If he’s conning people then he’s a crook, and we don’t need crooks around here,” everyone agreed with Argo and drank their drinks. Rai checked his wristwatch and rubbed his temples.

“I’d better get going,” he said sadly “I’ve an essay due in for next week and I haven’t even started it yet,” he stood up and buttoned up his brown jacket. “Thanks for the drink Yohann,” he added. Yohann smiled and bid him farewell.

Rock yawned;

“I can’t believe summer is almost over,” he commented looking out of the window where the last of the sun could be seen before it vanished below the horizon.

“What are you going to do when autumn comes?” Yohann asked him. Yohann had heard on numerous occasions that Rock was unemployed and without any qualifications, something which could get you into trouble in both Occupied Ajude and Elgalie. Rock, ever casual, shrugged. “Dunno,” he said lazily “Find a job I guess, Petra would like that,”

Petra was Rock’s 17 year old wife. They had married last summer and now they lived together with her mother. The marriage had caused quite a scandal in and around Elgalie. Rock was five years older than her and everyone knew that Petra was a naive child. Yohann never liked to comment on such scandals had remained quiet but in the privacy of his own mind, even he had thought that the marriage was absurd.

“Ah yes, support your family, how thoughtful of you,” muttered Argo. Rock and Argo had grown apart since the marriage. They used to be more than simply brothers they were best friends but when Argo tried to talk his older brother out of the marriage a feud had occurred and whilst they were on better terms now, the bond they had had been broken. Now Rock looked angry and so Yohann stepped in before either of them could start a fight.

“Boys, we shouldn’t be fighting each other!” he said pushing two drinks towards them. Rock backed down and accepted the drink but Argo continued to glare at his brother. The door suddenly opened and in walked a tall, athletic man wearing a black tank top and cargo trousers which were covered in oil, dirt and what looked like blood. He had blonde hair that was short and spiky. Attached to his belt was a pistol.

“Evening Cy,” Yohann said as the young man took a stool at the bar next to Rock.

“Hey guys,” Cy said in his high, slightly feminine voice. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had, I went on another protest along the border, it was supposed to be a peaceful rally but the darned Julian soldiers opened fire on us!” Cy points at the bloodstain on his trousers. “I’ve only just gotten back from the hospital to have this cleaned up.” Rock shook his head in disapproval and Taran paid for a drink for Cy.

“We shouldn’t let them order us around,” Rock said to Yohann “If only more people would take a stand like Cy does, you’re always telling us to rise above them,” Yohann had a feeling Rock would take his speeches a little too literally, sure, they should stand up against the Julian soldiers but not violently with guns and grenades and bombs, they’d never settle anything that way.

“You should come to our next rally Yohann,” Cy said. Yohann would very much have liked to go to the next rally but he’d already had three raids at the Battered Bass by Julian soldiers since word had gotten out that he’d been supporting rebel ideas to overthrow the regime.

“I’ll think about it,” he lied.

Matt was very pleased with the amount of cash he’d conned out of the Julian thugs. His weighted dice that he always carried with him had served him well again, and now he walked care free through the border back to his house. Just as the border disappeared from view Matt felt a drop of rain land on his cheek. Brilliant. Now he would have to use some of his money to catch a bus.

Matt hurried to the closest bus shelter which was deserted except for one man who was sitting on the bench with his nose in a book. By the way he was dressed Matt knew that he wasn’t a Julian so he sat next to him. As he waited for the bus to arrive