Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 3 Part 1

Keth let his eyes linger on his fellow imprisoned companions. They all had bruises, cuts and other injuries like him. He had learnt that being an insolent prisoner was hazardous to his health.The soldiers never failed to demonstrate their superior position whenever they were given the chance. Only the bounty hunter hadn’t beaten them, although Keth was thankful for this, he couldn’t say that he was a good man. He might not have taken part in it, but he sure never stopped them from taking their boredom out on the prisoners. The travelling was wearing down on Keth and he wasn’t as rambunctious as some of the other prisoners were. He watched as one of the captives egged a soldier on, ending in a punch to the gut.

The back and forth rocking of the birdcage wagon was almost luring him to sleep when one of the more burly looking inmates nudged him. He had been patrolled into the cage by half a dozen men only hours before. “You go to sleep now and you might not wake up.”

“Better now than later, right?” Keth said, trying for a half-hearted smile as he glanced at the man. He wore leather, giving him the appearance of a highwayman. Guessing from the few streaks of silver in his dark hair, he was probably in his late fifties.

The man grinned, “What you in for, son?”

“What everyone is here for,” Keth responded evasively, “For disturbing a hair off the king’s head, that’s what.”

One of the other inmates let out a bark of laughter and the stranger nodded solemnly, “If only that weren’t so true.”

The stranger’s eyes appeared to be trained on the trees that were slowly passing by. He wore a faraway expression on his face as if he weren’t really there. His green eyes held a sadness to them that seemed permanently there. The wagon rolled over a stone in the middle of the path, causing the wheels to jostle more than usual. This seemed to have brought him back to the living, but the melancholy look never left his eyes.

“What are you in for?” Keth asked, more out of lack of conversation than curiosity.

The stranger studied Keth for a moment, hesitating, until finally a smile began to toy at the edge of his lips. “Breathing,” was his reply.

Something about the way he said it made Keth believe him, even if it wasn’t the full story. It didn’t matter, a man’s business was his own, besides Keth hadn’t given much of an explanation himself. When he talked about why he was there he couldn’t help but miss home and he wouldn’t let himself break down in front of the prisoners or the soldiers. He couldn’t show them his weakness.

“Just like the rest of us,” one of the other men piped in. His light colored tunic and pants looked to be as ragged as the man’s face; worn.

One of the younger guards who had been watching this conversation with interest spoke up.“Your all in here for something or other,” he said, he pointed to the man with the tunic, “your wife didn’t just die from some stranger’s hand. Next time you plan on killing someone, make sure there aren’t witnesses.”

“I didn’t kill my wife,” the man’s face turned angry, “I found her bleeding on the side of a road with a knife protruding from her gut.”

“Which you placed there,” the man replied, “We’ve got a witness.”

“I don’t know how someone could be a witness to something that never occurred. I loved my wife,” the man exclaimed. He made an attempt to fling himself at the soldier but the man moved from his reach and watched him as he landed on the bars.

“And you,” the soldier turned on Keth, “stealing from the king is punishable by death in any country.” He paused, then lowered his tone, “No matter if the theft was an honorable one or not.”

The man cast Keth a sad smile that only turned the edges of his lips. It was faint but it was there. Could it be possible that he could make an ally out of him? If this soldier thought this, would others? No, Keth remembered how he had lowered his tone and how even now his smile was only a little one. He had been discreet with his opinion.

The soldier eyed the stranger, “Your crime is under the strictest authority secret. Whatever you did must be huge,” the man hesitated, “In my opinion, I’d like to know the name of the man I’m transporting and guarding.”

The stranger smiled grimly at this, despite his age, no lines formed under his eyes. His skin was bronzed by the many wary years under the sun, “You know what they say; curiosity killed the cat.”

"And serving my king comes first," the soldier said pointedly.

The stranger nodded his head, “Either way, your dead.”

The soldier’s face went expressionless as this possibility hit him. He narrowed his eyes at the stranger and a look of uneasiness settled upon him. He seemed to calculate whether he should discipline him or not but then he shook his head and replied with an even tone, “You’re the one on your way to the executions.”

“That I am,” the stranger agreed.

Keth listened to this conversation with curiosity. He focused on a few peasants as the cart passed them. They shied away from the soldiers, bowing their heads and covering their faces. Their clothing had layers of dirt and more rips then material. A baby began to wail and Keth caught a glimpse of an infant struggling to be free of his mother’s arms. Keth cast the mother a pitiful glance and made a silent vow that if ever he got the chance, he would plead to the king and anyone who would listen about the dire circumstances of the people of Darankia. Deep down, he knew that bringing attention to the people would probably do more damage than aid.

When the soldier seemed to have had enough of the man’s bantering, he walked ahead of the cage with a thoughtful look on his face. Another soldier approached his comrade and Keth only barely managed to catch what he said, “Don’t let the prisoners get to you, Garth. That’ll be the beginning of your downfall.”

Keth glanced over at the stranger, who had a pleased smirk on his face. He whispered to Keth, “Plant a seed of doubt in one’s mind and the seed will soon grow. That, my friend, is how you destroy an empire.”

Keth nodded.A look of dismay was evident on his face. “So,” he hesitated, running his fingers through his black hair, “Who are you anyway?”

The stranger looked at him and for a split second Keth noticed that melancholy look return. He was about to respond when he hesitated. Keth looked in the direction of his gaze and his eyes were led to the bounty hunter. He had dropped from the line and was now even with them, watching them with those penetrating eyes. Keth felt as if his deepest secrets couldn’t be hidden from this man. He was shuddering on the inside, but his face held an expressionless, stony appearance; one that wouldn’t betray the fear that he was feeling.

“My identity is none of your concern,” the stranger said. His voice was harsh; clearly stating that the conversation was over and there was no room for questions.

Keth shrugged before resting his head against the bars and closing his eyes. He tried to block out the hunter’s stare, that he knew all too well was on him. He wondered why the bounty hunter would care whether or not his fellow prisoner revealed his name. Keth’s thoughts then flickered to Avalon. What was she doing at that moment? Was she watching over his mother or had she come after him? It would be unlikely of her to not try to come to his rescue. Foolish girl. He hoped his father would rein her in and order her to stay. Not that Keth wouldn’t mind someone to help him escape, but he knew it would be dangerous and most likely a suicide mission.

“That’s right, boy, if only your mother could see you now. What a disappointment you’d be. Your mother is as good as dead, anyhow, I’d kill her myself if I had the chance,” one of the soldiers sneered.

Before weighing the consequences Keth’s temper burst, he knew he was in trouble the minute he started. His mother had always told him that he had an easy going temperament, but the minute he got angry the wild boars themselves should clear the way.

“I’ll kill you, I swear I will. You watch your back for the next twenty years because even after my death I’ll haunt you. Be sure of that,” Keth cried, his anger pouring into his threat. Gaining his composure, he continued in a quiet voice, “You call me the disappointment; well I’m not the one serving the rat for a prince. That’s right; he’s not the real king,” he looked straight at the bounty hunter. The man’s usual emotionless face was now white with rage. “You may deny it now but I know the truth-the veiled, murderous secret that came along with your king’s enthronement.”

Keth watched the shocked faces of the men before him-prisoners and soldiers alike. For one moment he felt victorious, as if he had struck a sore spot. He had suspected that the old rumours were true for so long that to have it confirmed was a victory for him. Before he could revel in his triumph for more than a mere second, someone from behind yanked him backward and he found himself pressed against the steel bars with a knife thrust to his throat. Although confused and angry, he had no choice but to remain still or else the dagger would cut him.

“I won’t have any more disrespect toward our king, do you understand me?” the bounty hunter’s steely voice echoed in his ear.

“He’s not my king,” Keth spat.

The hunter’s powerful arms banged him against the bars once again, this time it was with such force that there was no mistaking that he must have broken something. It didn’t stop there. The man’s arm wrapped around his throat in an arm lock and cut off his air supply. Keth struggled, throwing all his weight into his punches, but the man’s grip was as strong as his gaze. There was no breaking free. Dots began to surround his eyes and his breathing turned ragged. It would only take seconds before he fell in to unconsciousness and then only mere more seconds until his heart would stop. He formed a picture of his mother in his mind and held onto it. With this encouragement he threw everything he had into his punch. This was his last chance. When his hit connected he felt his capturer’s arm slacken, but it didn’t let go. The light faded from Keth’s eyes and before he passed out his only thought was of his failure.