A Spoiled Rule

Chapter 11

The following morning after their arrival at Lucas' store, Liam decided it was necessary to venture back out into the infested kingdom. He did not want to, but he had to, for Thorne and Jackson's sakes. Under normal circumstances Jackson would have gone out on his own, and he nearly did, though as soon as Liam sensed Jackson's leaving, he stopped him. Liam knew now that even the most skilled of guards can be taken by an unfamiliar enemy such as zombies.
Liam found Thorne sitting on the ground, papers sprawled over the desk which Lucas had hidden knives beneath. Thorne noticed Liam's approach and shuffled the papers into an orderly pile. "If I get eaten by a zombie, blame it on my leg," he said, standing up with a grimace. He grabbed the papers and folded them into a hidden pocket within his shirt. He then tapped his wrist subconsciously, as if expecting a mask to fold over his face. He took a deep breath and smiled, revealing his crooked teeth. "Let's get going!"
Liam turned and found Jackson standing near the door, next to Gresham and Prima. Prima had her arms crossed just like her brother, a sour look on her face. "I don't understand why we cannot go as well."
"We must stay behind and protect this place," said Stephen, standing off to the side near Lucas.
Prima sighed.
"Remind me why you are going out," said Lucas, eyes narrowed. "If I saw correctly, it was only your guard who tried to sneak away, not all three of you."
"I only wished to see how many were lingering around the place," said Jackson quietly. "I thought I could return before everyone woke..."
Liam took a breath. "I won't allow my guard to go on his own when zombies are about. If anything were to happen, I would bear responsibility."
"It would not be your guilt, Liam," said Stephen.
Liam gazed at Stephen, hoping his friend would see the urgency in his eyes. "Nevertheless, someone should go about and assess whether there is anyone else alive."
"How long will you be gone?" asked Stephen.
"We should be back within a couple of hours," said Liam. "Ideally less."
"Why is it that the thief is going?" asked Gresham.
"Thorne would like to scout for potential profits," lied Liam.
"Like a true pirate," said Harvey, now wearing a new black hat that matched his beard.
"Your name is Thorne now?" asked Prima.
Thorne winked.
"Be careful," said Prima after a scoff.
"And you," replied Liam. He turned and faced the door, where beyond he could hear nothing. He held out his hand to prevent Jackson from stepping in front of him. "Close the door as soon as we exit," said Liam. He readied his knife and pulled at a small wing of the golden latch securing the door. It fell into his hand and he gave it to Lucas. Then, Liam opened the door very slowly and very quietly. He stepped out into the muddy street and smelled rain in the air. Thick, heavy clouds hovered above him. He heard the door close from behind.
Liam detected movement to his left and saw a zombie turn its head toward him. He flung his knife into its skull and retrieved it after the zombie fell.
Thorne's mouth was slightly open at the motion Liam had done, though Liam ignored this. He had been trained to fight in battles since youth. To Jackson and he, throwing knives was child's play. Liam did not worry much of what Thorne thought, for worrying what others felt of him did not pose for a happy rule.
They started forward. Jackson stayed within sight of Liam, unlike the discreetness that had been found within the palace walls. Liam heard a shuffle from his far left, and he saw a distant zombie emerging from an alleyway. He continued until the zombie began to run, when Liam turned and thrust his knife through its jaw.
They continued.
Thorne repeatedly and longingly gazed west, toward the heart of Harksgold. Liam knew what must be roaming through his mind, and he did not blame the man. Compared to carved caves, land was luxurious.
Jackson stepped on a mutilated arm, then paused. They all did, for zombies seemed to be appearing from thin air. Liam spotted one emerge from around a corner of a building. He then saw another two feet to the right of that zombie, then another to the right of that one. He even spotted one crawling out of a tailorhouse. It was as if they could smell the food that was stuck beneath Jackson's shoe.
It had begun to drizzle.
Liam started for the main street, to his right. He picked up his pace but did not run, though the zombies all around were beginning to run. The volume of their snarls grew with the volume of the rain.
It had begun to pour.
A cry came from behind, muffled by the rain. Liam slipped, and he turned around. Thorne's injured leg had been grabbed by a crawling zombie. Jackson stomped on its neck.
Something slammed into Liam's back, and he slipped forward and smashed his nose onto the ground. Hot breath was against his ear. Liam forced his hands beneath his chest and pushed, rolling over. Instincts led him to dodge his head left, and he did just as a hand clawed at the space. He thrust his knife into the zombie's chest and dug his knee unnaturally far into the zombie's gut. He pushed it away from him and felt its hand skim his leg. His heart fluttered. He blinked the rain from his eyes and scrambled to his knees. The zombie lunged directly into Liam's blade and collapsed, and Liam tore the knife from its head. Blood began to seep from his nose into his mouth.
A cry sounded above the pounding of rain against his eardrums. It did not belong to a man nor a woman nor a zombie; rather, it seemed to belong to a little girl.
Liam sensed zombies behind him. He trusted that Jackson and Thorne were holding their own, so he ran not to save himself but to save them all. He slipped and stumbled, pushing past arms that reached for him. When the cry of the little girl seemed the greatest, he turned and gripped the handle of a door that belonged to a rundown shack meant for commoners' clothes. The door did not open, but the wailing continued. Liam pounded on the door. "Hey, it's-It's alright! Open the door!"
A knife flew past Liam and imbedded itself into the wall of the house. He turned around quickly and noticed Thorne stumbling up to him, wincing. "You made it look so easy!" he said hastily. He tore the knife from the wood.
Jackson was slowly coming; slowed by many nearing zombies. Liam stabbed the nearest one in its eye socket. It gave one last snarl before falling in a puddle.
It was too rainy to win this battle. Zombies were not slowed by the rain as humans, and only more were coming.
The door opened. Thorne burst through, while Liam ran for Jackson and protected his back. Together they entered the house, Liam grabbing the door and narrowly avoiding a zombie's nails against his arm as it closed, squishing multiple fingers and wrists. He shoved the door with all his might and it shut with a sickening crunch. Jackson handed him a golden clasp, and he secured the door.
"It's alright."
Liam turned and found Jackson attempting to console a young girl who was sitting on a bed, tears down her dirtied face. Liam scanned the room. He did not see any other doors nor any windows. He knelt down in front of her and gave a soft smile. "What is your name?" he asked softly.
She continued to cry.
"My name is Liam," he said. "These are my friends, Jackson and Thorne. Thank you for opening the door," he said sincerely.
As if in cue, pounding came at the door.
The girl sniffed and glanced up at the ceiling, where rain tapped against it. "I-I'm Pricilla," she said shakily.
"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Pricilla," said Liam. "Are you hurt?"
She folded her arms and shook her head.
"Good," breathed Liam. He stood and looked at the ceiling. Rain had begun to seep through the wood.
Thorne pulled the papers from his shirt. They were dry, despite his literal dripping appearance. "Lucky for these, they're waterproof," he smiled. He sat down on the floor and examined his drawings. They appeared to just have started save for one, which Liam couldn't make out.
"Jackson, how far are we from the tunnel entrance?" asked Liam quietly.
"Only three buildings to our right," he replied.
Liam nodded. "We will return to the others once the storm settles."
Jackson nodded in reply.
Liam realized he was shivering. In fact, they all were. The rain had made them very cold. He touched his nose and felt blood, though he could still breathe through it and it felt straight, so he assumed it was not broken. He realized how scary he must have appeared to the poor girl, who had to stare at a man with blood all over his face. He wiped hastily at his face until no more blood sank into his sleeve. He then turned to Thorne. "How is your leg?"
Thorne looked up and smirked. "How is yours?"
Liam's heart skipped a beat and he remembered a zombie scratching at his leg. He looked and saw thin rips through his pant leg, though he did not see or feel any scratches.
"Did you bring any food?" asked Pricilla.
Liam frowned. "Perhaps we could get some when the storm ends." Water was dripping onto her head.
"Is there any other room in here that we could stay?" asked Liam.
The girl shook her head.
Liam sat down against the door. He knew they would be there for a couple of hours. Storms in Harksgold were never light.
A sudden wave of sadness washed over Liam. He was embarrassed at himself for what happened inside his palace. He allowed the protocol to fail because of his too-trusting heart. He had been brought up to trust others, especially when they knew more than him, but that concept had failed him. And he may be trained for battle, but battle was different when your enemies would not die despite mutilated limbs and stab wounds to their chests. How long could he go on? He was hungry, cold, and defeated. He had this unrealistic mantra of rebuilding his kingdom despite zombies roaming around. Further, he had not taken into account zombies coming from distant lands. Surely they do not run out of stamina. On top of it all, a monster in the sea was rising to meet him. He could not conjure a magnificent plan to save himself and his friends, like his father could. While the advisors were snakes, they had known more than Liam and could come up with a plan he was incapable of thinking. What was more, he was forced to kill his own citizens. He did not care if they were infected with a cannibalistic virus; they were still his people. They had relied on their king to protect them. The only duty that had been entrusted onto Liam, he had failed. He had no other purpose than to perform as a king, but he could not order men around at such times.
Liam opened his eyes, which he had not known were closed. He had been slumped against the door asleep. Jackson and Pricilla were asleep under a soft tapping at the roof, whilst Thorne sat awake with his face nearly smudged against his papers, drawing very slowly.
"You are still awake?" Liam asked quietly.
Thorne nodded without lifting his head. "I have been working on my latest cunning idea of thievery, and I believe it is almost complete."
Liam sat up. "Thievery, at a time such as this?"
Thorne nodded.
"Thorne, this is not like Dínam. The plague has manifested itself not in fish but people, and there are many in Harksgold."
Thorne lifted his head and lowered his pen. The rims of his eyes were red. "Where I will be going is not far. I spotted a building with golden trim while we were passing through the streets, and I thought of this." He lifted the paper and showed Liam a drawing of what appeared to be a bracelet made of one strip of gold. "Surely in those rich homes there will be something like this, right?"
Liam sighed. He knew there was no reasonable conversation that could be had with a thief. "Perhaps," he said smugly. "When will you go?"
"On our way back," said Thorne. "I work best alone..." He itched at the bandage on his leg. "And I am a good thief, the only one left alive in Dínam and possibly in Harksgold. I will make it, so long as I don't throw any knives in the rain."
"If you say so," said Liam quietly. "Have you seen any distant place that could be suitable for the building?"
Thorne frowned and glanced at another paper with scribbles. "Not yet. This area-Chroal-would not be the best place, but maybe further into the kingdom. Oh, and I wish to be called Theron," he said with a grin.
"Very well, Theron," said Liam.
"I can teach you how we throw," said Jackson, who had recently awoke and was fumbling a knife in his hands. "Perhaps you could enlighten me on how guards operate underwater?"
Theron smiled and stood, grabbing his knife from a fold inside his shirt.
Liam stood and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a pulsing pain in the back of his skull. He frowned. He would need to eat an actual meal soon. He had no excuse not to, now that he had access to a store. He opened his eyes and focused on Pricilla, who was sleeping peacefully, though water dripped on and around her figure. Still, she remained in a seemingly restful sleep.
Jackson and Theron were now off to the side undergoing a tactical blade session, and Liam listened for a moment to the rain. Soon, perhaps very soon, they would be able to leave, and rescue Pricilla if she wanted. His eyes wandered aimlessly around the room. It was mostly empty, except for the bed and a chair pushed off to the side and...
His breath hitched in his throat.
In the corner of the room, beyond Jackson and Theron, lie a tiny mass concealed mostly by the bed on which Pricilla lie on. What startled Liam was at first glance, it looked to be a finger. But perhaps it was simply a mouse. Nevertheless, Liam squeezed past Theron and knelt down. A moldy smell suddenly enhanced the pain in his head, though he did not take his eyes from the mass. Liam leaned near and peered under the bed, his ear against the wet floor.
The mass that Liam had come to know as a hand burst to life. Liam flung backwards in fear and slammed his spine against the opposite wall, gathering both Jackson and Theron's attention.
The zombie beneath the bed was hardly alive, with its insides out and its skull bashed in. Yet it still had life, and knowing this, Liam stood and brushed past Theron. He stared at the sleeping Pricilla, who did not seem affected by the cold water touching her skin. In fact, she appeared more gray than pale. He grabbed her right arm-which she had been sleeping on-very delicately despite his trembling hands. He hadn't seen it before for it was very minute, though now he saw it: A thin small scratch about a centimeter long sat just before her elbow.
Pricilla opened her eyes and, from the depths of her throat, snarled. She wrapped her fingers around his arm.
Liam found his knife in his other hand, and he flipped it up and stabbed her arm.
Pricilla did not let go.
Jackson thrust his knife, and Pricilla's grip fell. He then eyed Liam's arm, though Pricilla had not broken through his sleeve.
"We will leave now!" said Liam, specifically to Theron, who was eyeing the hand protruding from beneath the bed. Liam unclasped the door and opened it. Light rain was falling, though many of the zombies from before the rain were still lingering. Liam closed the door and faced Theron. "Will you be alright if we run?"
"I will be running straight for the bracelet," said Theron, waving his hands in dismissal. "Don't worry about me. Oh, do houses such as the one I am looking to steal from have any sort of security that would prevent an easy access?"
"No," said Liam.
Theron nodded.
Liam took a breath and opened the door. There was a zombie standing directly in front of him, and instinctively he took a step backward as its arms reached for him. He wasn't sure how to stab the zombie without getting scratched, but luckily Jackson flung his knife just past Liam's ear and sank it into the zombie's skull.
They ran.
Liam's shoes splashed through puddles and slipped down the street. He could see movements to his left and right but he did not slow. He could hear Jackson just behind. A zombie lunged across his path and Liam tripped over it, Jackson grabbing his shoulder to steady him. They continued on. Another zombie was ready to pounce. Liam dug his heels into the ground just as it jumped, and it missed him. He continued on. His lungs burned, and his head pounded.
He found Lucas' store with its boarded windows. He pounded against the frame, having no breath to shout.
Jackson swiped at a nearing zombie, though his cut was not deep enough. They needed to rest.
The door opened a sliver, but Liam pushed it open without caution and dragged himself and Jackson inside. He kicked the door shut and grabbed a golden clasp, securing the door before collapsing to his knees, gasping for air. Jackson did the same, and for a moment all that could be heard were their breaths.
An unnatural chill ran down Liam's spine, and it was not because of his soaked clothes. Rather, the room was empty except for Lucas, who stood behind his counter quietly.
Liam forced himself to his feet. He did not dare to look at Jackson, for he knew the man was watching them dangerously. "Lucas, were we gone too long?"
Lucas' eyes widened and he shook his head. "No, only a few hours. Everyone is inside the store rationing the food."
Liam nodded and headed for the hallway, but he paused and looked back at Lucas, whose hands were hidden behind the counter. "Why are they rationing?"
"There is not enough food to last a while," said Lucas simply. "The store was ravaged as soon as the plague hit."
Liam could feel Jackson tense beside him. "Well, Jackson shall assist them," said Liam. It was an urgent order which Jackson obeyed, entering the hall.
Lucas stared at Liam with blank eyes. Liam took a small step to his left, where a portion of what lie beyond the counter could be seen. Piles of food were stuffed inside the counter and sat around Lucas' feet.
Suddenly, Lucas charged at Liam with a knife in his hand. Liam refrained from brandishing his blade and allowed it to be knocked from his grasp. He stood very still, while Lucas held his wrists with one hand and with the other pressed the blade against his throat. "Your father was worthy, but you are not," he snarled.
"Either way, I will not hurt you," said Liam stiffly as the blade touched the skin on his neck.
Lucas spat. "We in Chroal have never felt supported by you nor the Late King, though at least he hadn't set our homes on fire. I was lucky."
"At least half of Chroal was saved from the fire," said Liam, though he knew there was no reasoning behind attempting to defend himself.
"You are not wise with true age of manhood!" Lucas spat. "You have never seen battle, and your very presence here proves that you let your own palace fall to ruins, along with all the trusting citizens inside. Mothers, fathers, children, infants, all dead because of your inability to rule!"
"My building reforms are perhaps the only thing keeping you from the zombies," said Liam quickly.
"My own strength and wit have been keeping me from them!" Lucas said loudly, and the blade cut into Liam's skin.
"The Kingdom of Harksgold is no more," said Liam breathlessly. "Relieve her now of her torturer. Chroal no longer has to suffer under my rule."
"Lucas," said Stephen calmly, who had just come from the hall. His eyes were wide with concern and his hands were bloody. "There are more life-threatening issues Liam should discuss with you before you take his life."
"I don't care!" Lucas shouted, his hands shaking unsteadily.
"If you free Liam, he may give you information that can save your life. He may not rule justly and correctly in your eyes, but you must admit he is fair," said Stephen briskly.
"You share the same weakness," spat Lucas. "You lack wisdom and wit found in true age."
Stephen straightened his spine. His gaze did not waiver from Lucas. "I have been taught that true wisdom and wit is found not only in age, but also in experience and dedication, both of which I have found through my profession."
There was a tense moment of silence, during which Liam found it difficult to breathe properly. He could feel a small trickle of blood down his neck, and that made him want to squirm despite the knife, and he could not take too big of breaths, else he'd surely die.
After a split second of abrupt pain Lucas let go of Liam, and Liam stumbled forward in relief, grasping his throat. Lucas fell to his knees. From the hallway, Jackson had thrown a golden basket that perhaps once stored apples at Lucas' head. A gash immediately started oozing blood onto Lucas' forehead, but that did not deter him. He fixed his eyes on Jackson. He stood in a rage, brandishing his blade. Jackson glanced quickly at Liam, who nodded stiffly, and the guard threw his blade into Lucas' skull, right where the gash was. Lucas fell with a heavy thud.
Jackson disappeared down the hall.
"Your clothes are soaked, and your neck is cut. Have you... You have hurt your nose. You are also a bit pale, though quite understandably," Stephen muttered. "What is that? A tear in your pants? Though I do not see any physical scratches." He took a breath and glanced down the hall. "Liam, we have much to discuss, though I fear we do not have much time."
Liam cleared his throat and forced his mind to operate as a king's mind should. "Whose blood is on your hands?" he asked. "Why is it that we do not have much time to speak?"
"It is my blood," said Stephen. He glanced down the hall again. "Lucas tied us up in the store, and he made a way for zombies to enter. We must hurry-"
Just then, Gresham, Prima, Harvey, Ryan, and Jackson came running down the hall.