Follow: Book 1 The Rose Tree Chronicles

Chapter Seven: Cowardice, Hate, and Indifference

Meanwhile, Jorge and the two other Laxer soldiers, as they were called by the enemy, ran through the dense Lucierna Forest with ten Xers on their heels, armed with arrows and swords. The three escapees were equipped with only one sword each and barely enough strength to wield them. Even in their depleted conditions they ran like Southern Elves were after their souls.

Travis broke off first, diving into the cold waters of the Sirene Lake. He knew it was a risk—his lungs already burned from the chase—but he saw no other option. His sickly body ached for air the moment he slipped beneath the surface. The other Laxer, Jole, vaulted into the tangled underbrush, while Jorge managed to swing himself into a tree.

The Xers reached the lake’s edge, spotting only Travis disappearing under the water. They waded in after him, weapons drawn and ready. But Jorge couldn’t let them reach his comrade. He launched from the tree, crashing into one of the soldiers and slamming his head against a rock as they hit the ground. Chaos erupted. Jole leapt from hiding to join him, knowing Jorge couldn’t take them all alone.

Still, one Xer kept going, splashing through the water toward the submerged figure. Travis, unable to hold out any longer, burst to the surface with a gasp, his lungs betraying his hiding place just as the blade neared. He instantly spotted the Xer soldier fiercely plodding toward him with a sword thirsty for Laxer blood. Terror coated his body, yet he brought his own sword to position and waited for the Xer to strike.

Travis and his opponent flailed awkwardly in the lake, their swords barely effective as they struggled to keep balance. The fight quickly dissolved into savage pushing and wild punches. When the Xer knocked Travis’s sword away, desperation drove Travis to tackle him hard into the cold water. Cuts seared across Travis’s arms and chest, but he gritted his teeth through the pain. With a sharp, brutal wrench, he bent the Xer’s wrist back until the enemy’s grip loosened and his sword fell free. With both of them unarmed, they fought to drown each other for the remainder of the fight.

In the meantime, Jorge and Jole had difficulty fighting the six Xers left over after having perforated two. The enemy did well in protecting one another, which was news to Jorge and Jole as they were used to them failing with technique and strategy. Clearly the Executioners had learned something new during the past month. Nevertheless, Jorge and Jole still proved to be more educated and imaginative than these sorry excuses for soldiers as they found ways of incorporating rocks, sticks, and even plants into their fight.

Jole was fortunate enough to have found a fallen tree branch to use as a shield as well as a bludgeon. Jorge had to be a bit more innovative as branches so sturdy were difficult to come by. Instead, he threw a rock whenever he could, or waved some foliage in the faces of his enemies to momentarily distract them. The Xers quickly caught on and copied these methods, forcing Jorge and Jole to fight even harder.

One Xer paused, figuring that while the Laxers were temporarily occupied with five of his friends, he could rid his other comrade of Travis. He took his bow and aimed an arrow at Travis’s heart, then waited until he felt certain he would hit his target. However, keeping aim proved a challenge as Travis refused to keep still for even a moment. The Xer finally loosed the arrow at the exact moment Travis jolted right, yet its still found its way into his shoulder. Travis wailed in pain and almost drowned as a result.

The Xer who had been fighting Travis used the arrow as leverage to submerge his victim back into the lake. Travis fought to be the one above the water, but with every move he made, the Xer rammed the arrow deeper into his shoulder. He fought savagely against the searing pain and brought his head above the lake, only to scream and be shoved back below the surface. Once again, he found himself straining to not inhale lake-water, but it was a special challenge to ignore the arrow that was now peeking out from his back. Just as the struggle became enough for him to admit defeat, he managed to bring his head up once more to inhale half a breath of air before being forced back down. At long last, he broke free of his enemy’s grip and swam deeper into the lake to retrieve his sword. The Xer followed closely behind.

Travis couldn’t find his sword through the murky darkness of the Sirene lake-water and he was quickly suffocating. Soon he had no choice but to swim back to the surface for more air. Before the Xer had a chance to strike again, Travis kicked him in the chest as he dove back under for one last effort. He had to find his weapon this time; he wasn’t going to survive this conflict much longer. Travis desperately kicked and paddled through the muck, squinting his eyes as he searched for anything that gleamed. Hope was renewed when he finally spotted his sword stuck in the lakebed and he snatched it into his hands. Without much thought, he twisted around to face the Xer who was directly behind him by now, and he drove the sword straight through his abdomen. A red fog seeped from the wound and surrounded the body as it drifted, limbs slack. Travis swiped the blade back and the Xer floated to the surface with bubbles tumbling from his parted lips.

When Travis had clambered back onto shore, he spotted the archer who had shot him lying lifeless in his own blood. Jorge and Jole were down to two Xers now, but there was no way Travis would be able to assist. Once he was a comfortable distance from the lake, he fell to his knees and slumped over to concentrate on catching his breath. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway since Jorge soon ended his opponent only moments before Jole pinned his up against a tree. Jole’s Xer dropped his sword in surrender, but Jole didn’t feel like granting mercy. He raised his sword above his head with a hunger for revenge and was unmoved when his victim flinched.

“Wait,” came Jorge’s voice.

Jole hesitated but reluctantly lowered his sword. Jorge approached, eying the Xer closely. He continued to speak to Jole.

“We’re not like them. He surrendered, and unlike the Executioners, we will spare his life.” He then addressed the Xer. “I must say however, I’m very disappointed. You do realize that three of Emperor Plake’s weak, tortured, and weary soldiers just defeated ten of your Executioners? Think about that for a little while, then go and tell your emperor to train you in the art of battle.”

The Xer was set free. He hurried away looking back now and then, confusion etched into his expression. Once he was out of sight, Jorge and Jole rushed over to Travis who was now leaned up against a tree, clutching his aching shoulder.

“Hey, brother,” Jorge said. He put his hand on Travis’s good shoulder. “How bad is it?”

“I don’t know,” Travis replied through clenched teeth. “It feels like I’m in the first tier of Barhollow.”

“Oh my god! It came out the other side!” Jole exclaimed examining the wound.

“They have strong bows!” Jorge said with fascination. He picked up the dead archer’s bow and examined it.

“No, the Xer just pushed it through,” Travis explained.

“Oh.” Jorge dropped the bow.

Jole continued to examine the wound.

“Think you can get it out?” Jorge asked.

“No! Don’t take it out!” Travis objected. He shuffled to move away from Jole, but he only succeeded in pressing himself harder against the tree.

“Why not?” Jorge asked.

“It’ll hurt worse!”

“We have to take it out, Travis. We don’t want the wound to heal around it or else you’ll be like this for the rest of your life. It’s better to just get it out and be done with it.”

“Then-then-then-then just wait!—Just give me a second to catch my breath, all right?”

“No, we have to get it out now so that we can start back to Noelle,” Jole explained. “It can’t wait.”

“Please, Captain! Just give me a moment!”

“Travis!” Jorge snapped. “Get a hold of yourself! You’re a soldier for God’s sake, show it!” He quickly changed his tone to an ironic calmness, as if he was speaking to an infant. “Now, we’re going to remove the arrow. Otherwise the wound will get worse and we’ll have to cut your arm off.”

Travis took a deep, long, nervous breath. “Yes, Captain. But please hurry and get it out quickly.”

Jole looked at the arrow. “I’ll snap off the arrowhead and you pull it out.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Jorge turning to Travis. “Take a deep breath. Once I start to remove the shaft, exhale slowly.”

After several breaths to prepare, Travis inhaled deeply and held it as he braced himself. Jole snapped the arrowhead off and Travis hollered in misery as Jorge pulled the arrow out. Little had been accomplished when he stretched his right hand towards Jorge.

“Stop, stop, stop!” he cried.

Jorge stopped and looked at his panting subordinate. “Do you want to get this over with or not, Travis?”

“Yes, just give me a break here!”

“Well you got your break, now brace yourself and let your air out slowly.”

Jorge finished removing what was left of the arrow and Travis grabbed his arm to try and endure the remaining agony. Jole used his sword to cut a slit in his shirt and ripped a strip off to use as a bandage for the wound. Jorge glared at Travis while Jole bandaged his shoulder. If Travis couldn’t handle being shot by an arrow, how much information had he given to Emperor Mentir’s servants during the month the three of them had been tortured?

“There, that should do it for a little while,” said Jole after he finished.

“What about Gerry?” Travis asked while Jole helped him to his feet.

“What about Gerardo?” Jorge spat.

“He got us out of that jail,” Travis replied. “Don’t you think we should help him too?”

“Didn’t he leave with us?” Jorge asked.

“Do you see him around?”

“Well no, I thought he went elsewhere. Why, did you see something?”

“You closed the door before he could get out.”

“Ah,” Jorge said with a wry grin. “Well that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

“Especially for us who now have to live knowing we didn’t help the person who saved us.”

“So what are you suggesting we do, Travis? Go back inside and get ourselves caught and thrown back into jail? Gerry’s not worth it. Our luck’s gonna run out sometime. And anyway, he’s probably dead already for killing all those guards and freeing us from prison. You know how cruel Mentir is.”

“If Mentir is so cruel, then I’d expect him to torture Gerry before killing him,” Travis said. “Worse than what we went through.”

“Well that’s on him,” said Jorge. “God knows why he went through the trouble of getting us out in the first place. He knew the risks and at this point, there’s nothing we can do.”

“Yes there is, we just have to figure something out. Captain, he saved us and you just want to leave him behind?”

“I am more than willing to leave that lunatic behind.” Travis scowled. “Why are you so upset about this?”

“Because the honorable thing to do is to help him out in return. If he saved us from being shot in the middle of a battle, it’d be different. But he went through the trouble of sneaking into Mentir’s palace to free us from prison. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t return the favor.”

“Well perhaps this will help you feel differently,” Jorge replied. He took a step toward Travis so that he was looking down his nose at him. “If we go back in there and get caught, all his efforts are put to waste. Do you really want to do that to him? To you?”

Travis couldn’t answer as Calder had approached and stood over Jorge. Travis and Jole slowly backed away from Jorge and the unicorn behind him.

“Captain,” Travis whispered, gazing over Jorge’s head. “Move toward me slowly without saying a word and don’t look behind you.”

Jorge did exactly what Travis said, except for the not saying a word part. “Why, what is it?”

“What are you doing?” Calder asked. “It’s not as though I plan to eat you.”

Jorge spun around and frantically backed away with his sword in hand.

“What do you want then?” Jole asked. “We’re having a private conversation; you have nothing to do with it.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Calder replied. “I’m acquainted with Gerry of Liko.”

The Laxers glanced at each other in shock.

“How?” Jorge asked.

“I met him as he was on his way to the palace. He told me how he had to free somebody named Jorge. But I didn’t see him with you when you ran out, so I thought that you’d know what happened.”

“He didn’t make it out with us ‘cause—” Travis began, but Calder interrupted him.

“Yes, I heard. Our most grateful target closed the door before he had the chance. If I’m not mistaken, that sounds intentional.”

“Who gave you the right to trot over here and start spewing accusations?” Jorge snapped as he waved his sword at Calder.

“Captain,” Travis said. “Maybe he can help us get Gerry out.”

“If you like him so much then why don’t you go and get him out? Then you can properly kiss his boots.”

“I never said I like him,” Travis growled.

“Then forget about it!”

“What’s wrong with this man?” Calder asked the other two.

“Simply that I’ve been starved and tortured for a month!” Jorge exclaimed. “And it’s being suggested that I go back and risk my life for someone who I don’t find even remotely worth the risk. That’s what’s wrong. Why am I even explaining this to you? It’s none of your business.”

Calder had enough. He threw Jorge against the base of a tree with his front hooves, and set the tip of his horn at the man’s throat. Jole and Travis didn’t care enough to intervene.

“I have plenty of business here,” Calder explained. “Gerry saved my life too, and as is customary, I am obligated to return the favor. It has taken much longer than I’d planned and there are plenty of other things I’d rather be doing. Until he has left that palace dead or alive, my task isn’t complete. You, and only you, will go back in there and get him out because you left him behind. Do you understand?”

Jorge showed very little reaction to any of this. “And how exactly do you expect me to do that?”

“Don’t treat me like I’m naïve, Captain. I’m well aware of your heritage. Figure it out.”

⚜

The Laxers made their way back to the edge of the forest with Calder, and peered at the palace from behind the cover of trees. This was the time of day when the changing of the guards took place.

Jorge crept closer to the gate and waited patiently with his sword drawn for the guards to trade shifts. When they began to enter the palace, Jorge ran with stealth to the guard at the end of the line. He immediately covered the guard’s nose and mouth and drove the sword straight through him. Then to the surprise of his comrades watching, Jorge’s form morphed into the guard’s image, and he casually entered the palace as one of the others. After being a prisoner there for so long, he had more of an idea as to where the prison was located than Gerardo had when he came for his rescue mission.

Jorge successfully made it just outside the jail where he casually brushed shoulders with a servant whom he remembered being the one to whip him every so often. Oh, how he’d do anything to get that person’s blood on his sword before the war ended. When no one was around, Jorge took on that image, and continued down the long corridor which led to the jail. Since this particular servant had been coming from the direction of the jail, Jorge assumed he had just left it. He had to work accordingly. He descended the stairs as naturally as he was capable and put his plan into motion.

“I just received orders that this Laxer is going to spend the night in the RP,” Jorge said gesturing to Gerardo.

“You just brought him back,” a guard replied.

“I know, you’d think someone would’ve thought to tell me beforehand. I lent my shackles to another guard, I’ll have to use yours.”

“Who works the night shift in the Room of Pain?” another guard asked while the first one shackled their fresh prisoner. Gerardo moaned as the guard was less than gentle.

“Not me, thank the saints,” Jorge answered. “I wouldn’t know. I suppose we’ll find out.”

The first guard roughly handed Gerardo off. “Hopefully he learns a lesson this time.”

“Indeed,” Jorge said. “I’ll have him back tomorrow. Let’s go, Laxer.”

Jorge escorted Gerardo out of the prison and it didn’t take Gerardo long to notice that he wasn’t heading to the Room of Pain. He was about to ask where they were going, but Jorge answered before he could speak.

“I’m Jorge.” Gerardo squinted his eyes in disbelief. “I’ll explain everything later, but right now just act along. I’m going to try to get you out of here.”

Jorge continued to drag Gerardo along to exit the palace. By the time they reached the gates, both suns had set and the violet moon had just begun to rise. The palace guards stopped them before they could exit.

“Where do you think you’re going with this Laxer?” one guard asked.

“I’m taking him to the Lucierna Forest to execute him,” Jorge answered. He immediately realized that the lie was an incredibly awful one, but he had no choice but to commit. “They are my orders.”

“Whose orders?” another guard challenged.

“That has never been done before,” added a third. “His Majesty’s prisoners are always executed in the morning and in public.”

“His Majesty wants this one to have as few witnesses as possible,” Jorge replied firmly. “Fewer mourners. If you have a problem with it, take it to His Majesty. Goodnight.”

With that, Jorge walked past the guards and fought to remain calm. He gripped Gerardo by the arm and pulled him swiftly toward the forest’s edge. Once they were out of sight, he yanked the shackles off and the two bolted into the shadows of the Lucierna. But the sound of their retreat alerted the guards, who shouted and gave chase. Jorge shifted back into his true form and waved for Travis, Jole, and Calder to follow. They veered off the path and plunged deeper into the forest, where the dense canopy smothered the lavender moonlight. Darkness swallowed them whole—so complete they couldn’t even see their own hands. Running blind was too dangerous. Instead, they pressed themselves into the underbrush, hearts racing, praying the cover of night would be enough to keep them hidden.

Unfortunately, all of the guards were nocturnal creatures and they found Jorge, Gerardo, Travis, and Jole in no time. The escapees attempted to fight, but without the ability to see, it was useless, and they were lucky neither of them got killed. The guards swiftly apprehended them and confiscated their weapons before any more blood could be spilled.

The captives were bound with their hands behind their backs and their arms to their sides. A rope threaded through loops around their necks kept them all in line. Under heavy guard, the four Laxers were marched into the throne room and forced down onto their knees before the emperor.

Jorge wasn’t about to let the guards get away with man-handling him, especially since he was already infuriated beyond what he could handle. He shot back to his feet and headbutted the nearest guard, then kicked him into one of the pools. This only made things worse for Jorge. Blows landed fast and hard. Gerardo, who hadn’t moved or spoken, was struck across the face, then in the stomach, punishment for Jorge’s defiance. He grunted, but didn’t fall. This seemed to irritate the guard more. A third hit dropped him to his knees, dragging the others down with him due to the chain. The rope snapped tight around their throats, forcing them all to kneel before the emperor, including the rowdy Jorge.

Gerardo remained in this submissive position coughing, panting and praying that nothing more would be done to him tonight. Travis and Jole bowed their heads with the hope that respect would earn them some mercy. Jorge was the only one to look straight into the emperor’s eyes with rage.