A Warlord’s Justice

In ancient times, there were two sides one could choose to stand for: good or evil. In these dark times of turmoil, a shadow of war had been cast over the ancient world by an evil sorceress, Leona Morgan, the queen of Agora. To keep her subjects in line, she used dark magic to control their minds. The weak were brainwashed and kept in her spell. Those who were strong enough to resist her were slaughtered.

Of the few brave armies pitted against Leona, the strongest was that of her own sister, Shardea of Avonlea. With the union of Shardea’s keenness in battle, and the foresight and mystic powers of her diviner Sully, they were able to hold off Leona’s charges on the kingdom for quite some time. Still, Leona’s power was growing day by day. If she couldn’t be stopped, she would sweep the land like a plague and kill all who stood in her way. It was only a matter of time until she made the big move that would cast evil over the land forever.

“I see the blood-soaked earth strewn with bodies,” murmured Sully, passing his hand over the stones. “Fate is on your side, but not for long.” He looked up, his green eyes big and full of worry. “I see our people dying for our short term victory. The warlord’s triumph in the east should give us some time to realign, but I know not how long this peace will last.”

“This is good news,” said Shardea wanly, “when I have heard nothing from you but doom and gloom all these weeks.” With a smile, she playfully ran a hand over his hair. “What would I do without you?” She kissed Sully’s hand. “Now we must inform the commanding officer of our change in plans,” said Shardea thoughtfully. She turned to her guard. “Go, bid Darien come.” The guard bowed and left. Shardea sighed. “Well, dearest Sully, do you think this battle will change anything?” Sully shrugged.

“I know not,” he admitted. “But our people need lasting peace. Not this temporary peace we’ve been subjected to.”

“It’s an ongoing spiral,” muttered Shardea. “It never ends.” Sully nodded in silent agreement.

“You sent for me?” Darien announced his arrival at the door as he entered. “Has there been a change in plans on tonight’s attack on Agora?”

“There has,” declared Shardea. “Something has come up. I want you to pull your troops out and wait in the surrounding valleys. She’ll think you’ve retreated. Then, come nightfall, you will strike.” Darien appeared baffled.

“Has the sorcerer seen this in a vision?” he glanced at Sully.

“I have,” replied Sully. “To ignore this would bring misfortune.”

“Do as I say without question,” Shardea commanded. “Send the message to your men in Agora as soon as possible. This mustn’t fall through.”

“As you wish, your highness,” Darien left. Shardea sighed again.

“Sully, I pray this works.”

“Don‘t doubt yourself,” Sully said gently. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“People are dying because of me,” Shardea said, absently stroking Sully’s light brown hair.

“They die because of Leona,” corrected Sully, “not you. You knew had to act quickly.” He smiled. “Now or never, right?”

“Now or never again,” said Shardea, taking and squeezing Sully’s hand. “I know there will be no peace if Leona wins. But I will let my world crash around me before I let her harm you in any way.”

“She can’t win,” said Sully grimly. “If she wins, we’ll all be dead.”

King Memnon, lord of all warlords, stood in the sun and gazed down at the soon to be battlefield. He was a tall, built, handsome warrior. His dark hair was shorn on the sides with the rest pulled back into a thick braid that fell past his shoulders. As he surveyed his prospective victims, Leona’s imminently vanquished army, a glimmer of satisfaction came into his cobalt blue eyes.

“This shouldn‘t take long,” said Memnon to his commander. “I’ve tarried too long in this family feud between Leona and her sister. Once I take this land I’ll be ruler of all I see, and that should silence them both.” He smirked. “Go, spread the word amongst your men that we attack at dusk.”

“Milord, are you sure about this?” asked the dubious officer. “Something about this doesn’t seem right. Too convenient almost.” Memnon’s eyes narrowed. Flames shot across his freezing irises.

“Do you question my word?”

“No, sire!” the general replied quickly. “It is just that there have been rumors that Shardea retreated this morning only because she plans to return tonight and ambush the camp, just as we plan to do.”

“Preposterous,” Memnon’s voice had a cold edge. “She wouldn’t dare.”

“Milord, what if this is serious…”

“If it were serious,” snapped Memnon, “then you would know about it. Now go, give the order to your men.” The commander bowed his head and set off. Memnon glared as he went. “Fool.”

Hidden nearby was a soldier who had heard the entire conversation between Memnon and his commander. Now the soldier stole off into the forest where Leona was waiting.

“Milady, I have wonderful news,” he announced.

“Excellent,” came a voice from out of nowhere. “Pray tell.” The lad was puzzled. He didn’t see a soul in sight.

“Um, where are you?”

“Down here, fool,” came the reply.

“Where?”

“Here!” Leona crawled out from under the bushes and stood, brushing herself off. Her messenger looked sheepish.

“Right.” he giggled. “Milady, I come with news.”

“It had better be good, Jacen.”

“Oh, ’tis,” beamed Jacen. “You know how Shardea retreated rather than attack us?”

“Go on.”

“It gets better,” declared Jacen. “King Memnon’s army is waiting to the east, and Shardea’s to the west, and both have the same plan to attack at dusk!” Jacen giggled. Leona smirked.

“Excellent. With both enemies in one place, we can destroy them both at once.” With a gleeful laugh she added, “If they don’t destroy each other on their own.” Both evil connivers giggled evilly. “Once I get through Memnon, nothing will stand in my way. At last I will see my sister burn.”

“And what of the diviner, Sully?” asked Jacen, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “Shall he die as well?”

“He shall die,” replied Leona thoughtfully, “though I’ve not quite worked the scheme out. I’m not sure if I want to burn Sully first and let Shardea watch him die, or the other way around.”

“Burn them together on the same stake,” suggested Jacen, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of evil, “so that the two lovers may gaze into each other’s eyes as they perish a horrible death.” Leona laughed gleefully.

“Ah, Jacen, sometimes you amaze me.” She ruffled his hair adoringly. “Either way they will both die, and it won’t be pleasant.” She smirked evilly. “Now we must make haste back to the palace. I’ve evil schemes to fabricate to make my sister’s life a living nightmare.”

Sully woke at midnight to a hot flash and a cold sweat. His body trembled with the shock of his latest vision---it was one of his own death. Shivering, he wrapped himself in his blanket and went across the hall to Shardea’s chamber.

“Sully?” came a voice from the closet.

“Yes,” replied Sully. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I was expecting you,” replied Shardea. “I had a feeling you’d come.” She emerged from her closet in her silk robe and sat on the bed. “You look vexed. What ails you?” Sully sat and let out a grim sigh.

“I’ve had a vision of my own death. All I saw was flames. I think Leona may be interfering in my dreams again, but I can never be sure. I thank the stars she can’t channel through me in daytime.”

“Poor Sully,” cooed Shardea. “You know she‘s just playing mind games with you She is pure evil. She has killed many and she will never stop until what she wants is what she has.” Sully’s small, barely-over-5-foot frame trembled with fear. “I promise, I’ll let nothing happen to you.” She put her arms around him and squeezed him. He hid his face in her shoulder and closed his eyes.

Memnon was furious. As he entered his tent he snatched up a dagger and hurled it across the tent as hard as he could. It whizzed between the heads of two guards and pierced the wall. A scream of agony was heard from outside. The guards flinched.

“The nerve of her!” he exploded. “Half my army is dead or dying, and for what? Because the twit couldn’t keep a straight battle plan?” He took a spear and threw it at the other wall. The guards shuffled to the other side of the tent, away from Memnon’s line of fire. “This won’t do at all,” the warlord mumbled. “I must speak to her about this.”

“I’ll deliver the message, milord,” said one of the guards, who was more than eager to leave and escape Memnon‘s wrath.

“No need,” Memnon said briskly. “I’ll do it myself. Tell the generals they can handle themselves, and if anything goes wrong, I’ll have their heads.” He whipped out his sword. “I mean that most literally.” He replaced his sword and stalked out. As he left a collective sigh of relief came from the guards.

Sully and Shardea walked through the courtyard late that afternoon on that sunny day.

“Sully? Any news from your divining?” Sully shook his head.

“Nothing has changed. Our nightfall campaign didn’t go as planned. Other than that, no change. No news from Leona’s front. No news is better than bad news.” Sully smiled. “If misfortune were afoot, I could tell it.”

“You’re right.” Shardea replied. “I just hope this will all be over soon.”

“Oh, it will be over for you sooner than you think.” came a scornful voice from behind. Sully felt a twinge and his gaze shot to the regal warlord standing over them. His eyes narrowed.

“Memnon.”

“Sully, is that you?” asked Memnon wondrously. Sully stood, notably shorter than Memnon, but ready to defend himself nonetheless.

“Yes, ’tis I,” grumbled Sully. “And here I was thinking I was finally rid of you.” All this time Shardea just sat there, baffled.

“You two know each other?”

“Unfortunately,” replied Sully. “We grew up in the same village, and when I left and he went off to war, I thought I’d finally be free of him. Unfortunately this is not the case as you can see.”

“Oh come now, Sully,” said Memnon with an arrogant smirk. “You know I’m not that bad. Your mother absolutely adored me.”

“But my sister hated you,” Sully recalled. “She always said you were evil.”

“Ah, your sister, the nine year old prophet. How is Casandra these days?”

“As much as I hate to interrupt this reunion,” Shardea cut in, “I must ask you, lord Memnon. Who are you, and why have you come here?”

“Well, well, queen Shardea,” Memnon smirked. “You’re even more stunning in person. Allow me to introduce myself: I am king Memnon, ruler of all provinces east of the Great River and soon to be ruler of all the land if I can just get past your trifle of a sister. But she is not of issue right now. But you are, my dear. I have come to set straight my issues with you.” His chilling blue eyes met hers and he took her hand and gently kissed it. “My, you are lovely. Too bad I have to kill you.” His hand tightened around her wrist.

“What?” demanded Shardea, pulling away from Memnon. “You must be mistaken. Let us discuss this before it gets out of hand.”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Memnon said pleasantly. “You’ve made a touchy blunder, and I’ll not tolerate it.” In a swift motion he drew his blade. “Any last requests?”

“Please, think before you act,” Shardea was frazzled. “What have I done for you to so desire me dead?”

“It is simple,” Memnon’s voice had a cold edge to it. “Because of you my army was sabotaged and I suffered the defeat of my life. That one stronghold was the only thing standing between me and total dominance, and your error resulted in my chances being set back yet again. Do you know what that means to me?”

“It was purely accidental,” said Shardea. “I assure you if I’d have known of your plan I would have stayed back and let you handle it.”

“It‘s too late for that,” snapped Memnon. “Prepare to die.”

“If you must kill me,” said Shardea, “don’t think I won’t fight you with everything I have.” She threw off her cape, revealing her in her scant warrior queen’s attire, but Memnon was unfazed. Shardea drew her sword. She charged at Memnon, fully intending to kill him. Her sword was aimed to stab him through the heart, but before she could so much as get near him, he flung her sword from her hand with one swift clang of his blade. The next thing she knew she was on her knees before Memnon, his sword at her throat.

“I’d have assumed you’d know better than to challenge me,” he snarled. “Any last words, witch?”

“Wait!” Sully intervened just in time. “Hold your hand, Memnon. For if you kill her now, you ruin any chance of ever defeating Leona.”

“So queen Shardea’s life is crucial to my success,” said Memnon thoughtfully. He smiled at Shardea. “I suppose this means I can’t kill you now.” He replaced his blade. “Forgive my manners.” He offered his hand to help Shardea up. She refused and got up on her own. Memnon looked insulted.

“That’s it, right?” Shardea was flustered. “You came to kill me and you didn’t, and now you plan to leave?” Memnon smiled slyly.

“Not quite,” he said. “You see, your actions have displeased me greatly, and now I distrust you. I aim to occupy your territory as long as I see fit.”

“You can’t do that,” hissed Shardea. “You’ve no power here.”

“If you don’t grant me power, we’ll accept it as a challenge of war. You can either surrender peacefully, or we’ll force you to.” Shardea glared.

“Fine,” she said. “But if my people revolt against you, I won’t stop them.”

“I can handle it,” said Memnon smartly. “Until we meet again my fair lady.” Memnon smiled and turned to leave. Shardea watched him leave, a peculiar feeling in the pit of her stomach. She looked at Sully.

“There’s something strange going on here.” Sully nodded.

******

In days, Avonlea was under Memnon’s control, and by the third day, Shardea was at ends with him. “How much more can I take?” wondered Shardea as she watched Memnon’s men in the streets, and her people jeering and throwing things at them. “Fools. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since those idiots came here.” She sighed irritably and turned to Sully. “I feel I can’t turn my back on him for a second,” she said. “Honestly! What right has he to just---”

“---barge in and take over?” came a voice from the door. “Why, I’m surprised. The two of you don’t seem like the type who would plot against me behind my back.”

“Why are you in my palace?” Shardea demanded flatly.

“You don’t know?” Memnon sounded surprised. “Why, it’s only customary for a king leading an occupation to take over the palace.”

“No way,” emphasized Shardea. “You’re not staying here.”

“Who’s stopping me?” smirked Memnon. “I’ve already asserted myself over your staff. Remember what incompliance will result in? Is war really worth it?”

“Fine!” exploded Shardea. “But if you mess up, I’ll have your head!” In response, Memnon shot Shardea a look that was part threatening, part seductive, and all daunting. He seized Shardea by the wrist and pulled her forward forcefully.

“Was that a threat?” he demanded. Shardea didn’t recoil.

“Perhaps,” she said. “Don’t cross me, Memnon.”

“Threaten me again and I’ll do more than cross you,” he growled in Shardea’s ear, and his tone made her weak. He released her. “I do hope we can get past our differences. I promise I’ll try to make my occupation as pleasing for you as possible.” he smiled, and Shardea felt that twinge of dread she’d felt when he’d walked away in the garden. Presently a crash was heard from downstairs.

“Lord Memnon! I think you should come see what Thorak did!”

“Blundering idiot,” muttered Memnon. “Excuse me.” He shook his head in disgust and left. Sully looked at Shardea with a little smile.

“I think he likes you.”

“You must be insane. He is detestable. I like him not.” Sully smiled.

“I do sense otherwise,” he said. Shardea blushed.

“Thorak!” roared Memnon. “Can I leave you alone for five minutes? How can I trust you as the head of security if I can’t trust you at all?”

“My lord, I was just--”

“Silence! I didn’t ask what you were doing, I’m asking you not to do it again. I’ll give you another chance, but I expect you to do your job.”

“Yes, milord.”

“Good. Now I want you to tighten security around here. If anyone wishes to see me without arrangement, send them to the dungeon. I care not who they are.”

“My lord, what if it’s--”

“Anyone! I don’t care who they are! Now go.”

“As you wish,” Thorak left. Memnon shook his head and went to the courtyard to get some air.

******

“Perhaps I was a bit too harsh,” mumbled Shardea to herself as she descended the stairs. “I guess this is for my own good.” She went off in search of Memnon so she could give him a sincere apology, but all she found were several of his red guards. They were better than nothing. She stopped and fixed them with her sweetest smile. “Excuse me. I’m looking for lord Memnon.”

“He’s not here,” said the snippy guard. “And who are you to speak to his lordship? Do you have an appointment?”

“Well no, but…”

“Thorak! We’ve got one!”

“Madam, you are now lord Memnon’s prisoner,” declared Thorak.

“Excuse me, do you know who I am?” demanded Shardea.

“Lord Memnon cares not. To the dungeon you go.” Before Shardea knew what had hit her, she was being carried, fighting all the way, to her own dungeon.

The door was opened and Shardea was shoved into the dark cell. Thorak lifted her onto a crate and shackled her wrists to the wall. “This really is unnecessary,” said Shardea nastily. Thorak ignored her and kicked the crate out from under her feet, leaving her to dangle.

“Have a nice stay,” he said. He picked up the crate and left with it.

“Thorak! You can’t just leave me here! I’ll have your head for this! Thorak? Thorak!” The door slammed. Shardea was furious. “MEMNON!”

Refreshed, Memnon strode regally back into the palace, only to run into a somewhat disheveled Thorak.

“My, do we have a prisoner already? Looks like they gave you quite a fight.”

“Oh yes, she was a bother.” said Thorak with a laugh. Memnon tensed.

“She?”

“Yes. She was rather small, semi-tall, dark hair, very spirited…”

“You idiot. You arrested the queen!” He frowned. “Keys, Thorak. Now.” Thorak surrendered the keys to the dungeon. Memnon sighed. “Please tell me why I put up with you.” He went off toward the dungeon. When he found the cell, he unlocked the door.

“Hello?” came a panicked voice. “Are you here to get me out of here?”

“Yes,” replied Memnon.

“You idiot,” snapped Shardea. “Why did you order my arrest?”

“I didn’t,” said Memnon. “Thorak misconstrued my orders as usual.” He looked around for something to stand on but found nothing. “He took the box too?” Shardea nodded. “I’ll have his head for this,” he sighed. “No reason to panic. If I toss you the keys, can you get one hand to the other to unlock yourself?”

“I suppose,” said Shardea doubtfully. Memnon tossed her the keys.

“Right. When you fall, I’ll catch you.”

“I can fall on the floor,” sneered Shardea. “I don’t need your help.”

“Apparently you do,” retorted Memnon. “Because without me you’d still be in prison.” Abruptly, Shardea screamed and fell down into Memnon’s arms. He smiled at her, tightening his grip on her. “Was that so bad?” Shardea’s heart leapt into her throat. She almost blushed.

“Good catch,” she said. “Could you carry me out? I’m afraid I’ll step on a rat.” Memnon smiled.

“Anything for you, your most lovely highness,” he joked. With that he carried her out of the dungeon, making a mental note to yell at Thorak later.

Elsewhere…

“Your most wicked highness, we have a prisoner from Shardea’s army!” Jacen sang out as he entered with a guard, who was practically dragging in a bound soldier. Leona smirked.

“Oh, good. A living, breathing member of my little sister’s army. Fascinating.” She stood up. “I didn’t think there were any of you left. So soldier, tell me. What does she plan to do next in battle?”

“I know not,” said the soldier. “And even if I knew I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Oh, playing the hard way, are we?” sneered Leona. She pulled out her dagger. “Let’s try again, shall we? Tell me everything, or I’ll kill you.”

“I told you, I know nothing!”

“I think you’re lying. I spare no one who lies to me.” With that, Leona drove the dagger into the soldier’s throat, severing the jugular, sending blood spilling onto the floor. The soldier gagged and fell to the floor. He made gurgling noises until finally, he was dead. Leona didn’t flinch. “Guard, get someone to clean this up. I don’t want my floor to stain.” The guard looked somewhat disturbed that Leona would just kill someone brutally with no justification. He looked dubious. “Do you want me to do the same to you? Go! Now!” The guard left hastily.

“That went well, Jacen.” Leona said with dark satisfaction. “But I’ve one more thing to do yet.”

“Pray tell?” asked Leona’s minion. She smiled.

“Well, it seems only customary that for being a part of our dastardly scheme to rid the world of Shardea, we should award a gift to king Memnon.”

“Oh, what will we give him?” asked Jacen eagerly. “A fruit basket? Oh I do so love those…”

“No, you imbecile,” Leona smacked Jacen upside the head. “Much better. I will send him a gift to die for.” She smiled. “I shall send an assassin to hunt him down and then kill him, wherever he may be.”

“Excellent.” praised Jacen. “You are the vilest.”

“I know.”