A Spoiled Rule

Chapter 20

They walked quickly yet silently, taking calculated steps. The trek to the palace was not difficult; rather, the glass in the street caused them to move slowly because Theo still wore no shoes. Jackson led the group, and within each nearing step, Liam grew nervous. He didn't want to kill every zombie inside the palace, but if he must, he shall. All the while, Liam worried of Coulím. It had been two days since their rest in the attic of the rickety bar, and Liam could not prevent his thoughts from conjuring the worst. Harvey was a good sailor, and wise. Surely he made it back to Dínam. But how could he have found Dínam if Coulím could not guide him?
"I need to stop for a moment," said Gresham, who had been walking with the aid of Prima. He leaned against the wall of a house and caught his breath while Stephen made his way over to him. Stephen's hands were still bandaged very tightly, but he seemed to be happier despite the pain he was surely in. Liam shivered every time he thought of slicing into his friend's hands.
Jackson flung his knife into a zombie who had spotted them. He quickly retrieved the blade and returned, nodding at Liam. "We are almost at the palace," he informed.
"We will grab as much food that is still safe, along with any medical tools-" Liam turned and sliced at the zombie he sensed running near. It fell at his feet. "-any medical tools that Stephen will need."
Jackson nodded.
Theo came toward Liam, taking tentative steps. He seemed worried, just as worried as he had been before the battle with Mettiam. "Liam," he said quietly, "After we construct the safe house, will we... Will you go to Dínam?"
Liam frowned. He knew the source of Theo's worry, and his heart ached. "We can go to Dínam as soon as we finish searching the palace."
Theo's eyes widened. "I don't mean to impose-"
"Tholam," said Liam quietly, "I can't imagine how you must feel, knowing that a refugee community exists. If your parents are there, we shall soon find them."
Theo gave a small crooked smile. "Thank you, Liam. You are a most honorable thief."
"As are you," said Liam.
"We can continue," said Gresham, wrapping his arm around Prima's shoulders. Stephen returned to Liam and took a breath as they continued their trek. "He is doing well, considering," mumbled Stephen.
"And how are you?" asked Liam.
A zombie ran for Liam from an alleyway. He stopped abruptly and dodged a clawing hand. He stabbed his blade into the side of the zombie's skull.
They continued.
"I am in a lot of pain, but I am also now at ease," said Stephen honestly. "My hands will heal, though I am not sure how well they will heal. Nevertheless, I still have them." He then eyed Liam. "You have regained some of your energy."
The two days spent in the attic of the bar did, indeed, treat Liam well. He remembers most of the time being spent sleeping, and as he was still under the influence of the odd blue liquid medication, he was still tired, but he found enough strength to walk and kill zombies. He didn't want to admit that he still was fighting a fever, but no one seemed to notice. No, that wasn't right. Liam suspected that they noticed, but out of courtesy they didn't mention it. "I am doing better," he replied simply. He was still quite fearful that he'd wake in a reality that was indeed a false reality, but that hadn't happened since. "Only a couple more days of this medication, and I shall be healed."
"Yes, well, I hope Coulím still lives so I can question what that medication is a composition of," said Stephen.
Liam frowned. He recalled Stephen pestering Coulím about how he could be awake. "You don't believe the medication will truly heal me, do you?"
If Stephen's hands weren't wrapped, he'd start fiddling with his fingers. "I don't mean to be pessimistic, Liam," he said apologetically. "But he said that the medicine was supposed to keep you asleep for seven days. It hasn't. He thinks it has something to do with people's will... that it's spiritual. I'm a spiritual man, but..."
"I understand," said Liam. He couldn't think of anymore to say, so he fell silent. The silence brought him to inquire of his sickness. He could feel it, like itchy thorns prickling his insides. He cleared his throat and thought instead of the palace, which was looming ever closer, its golden and marble exterior gleaming as if all was right with the world. It was as if the palace itself radiated a goodness too pure for most zombies to pass through, for the closer they came, the less frequent were the zombies. This troubled Liam, for he knew a mob waited for him beyond the doors. Perhaps the zombies outside the palace were afraid to come near, because they sensed their brethren trapped inside. He became saddened by this thought. He wished he had found another way to settle the palace. He felt immense guilt for leaving the survivors to die, flying off into the sunset on his suspensors. How foolish he had been. Perhaps his advisors' cruelty had slowly been seeping into him undetected.
They reached the front doors, and upon their arrival came a surprise that made Liam's heart jump: The royal doors were open. He looked around as if he'd spot the mob of zombies that were supposed to be inside, but all he saw were empty streets.
Jackson started forward very slowly, his knife ready. Liam and the others followed, and he suddenly found it hard to draw a breath. He suspected who had opened the doors but did not want it to be true, so he waited for proof. Inside the hall sat marble pillars and a rotting zombie entangled in a net. Poor Gregory.
Liam looked to his left and found the collector doors were also open. Curiously, he entered the room and found a mass of the dead, lying in sporadic groups. Adults lie on top of children. Elderly lie with trampled bones. These were those who died before the plague could ever settle in their blood. Liam recognized the very thin woman with the loud voice dead at his feet, her eyes frozen open in despair. He knelt down and closed her eyelids.
A zombie beneath the woman reached out its arm and wrapped its fingers around Liam's ankle. Quickly, he stomped on the arm until it became just as trampled as the elderly, and a sickening feeling settled in his stomach. No, he thought to himself. He must not vomit in such a place, in front of all these witnesses.
"Liam," said Stephen from behind.
Liam turned and found the doctor covering his mouth. "Head to the medical hall with Jackson, Gresham, and Prima," ordered Liam quietly. A putrid smell was in his nose.
"You shouldn't be left alone," said Stephen wearily.
"I believe I'm past the collapse-and-seize stage, but nevertheless, we shall meet at the royal staircase in no more than fifteen minutes," said Liam.
Though reluctant, Stephen nodded his head and disappeared down the hall with the others.
Liam took careful steps to avoid stepping on any limbs and made his way over to the balcony door. He must pay his respects to Chef Lowinn, for though Liam was not the one to lock the chef inside, he carried the guilt. He moved slowly up the stairs and found that staircases still took much energy from him, and when he reached the top he paused and grabbed onto the trim of the doorway until his knees ceased to shake. Then, he took no more than two steps before realizing there was something missing: The chefs. He had expected them to still be on the balcony, infected or torn to pieces, but no man remained. Not even chef hats nor coats lie on the balcony floor. He grabbed the marble railing and looked out into the heaps below him. He couldn't identify Chef Lowinn, though he supposed it was possible that the man would be beyond recognition. Still, he saw no chef uniforms. It was difficult for Liam to stem his growing panic.
This is not proof.
Liam left the balcony and quietly went down the stairs, emptying once again into the main hall. Stephen and the others were nowhere in sight.
Liam knew where he must go to find proof. He hurried through a door that brought him into a large space with a chandelier glittering peacefully above. He made his way up the royal staircase and down the hall of portraits. He silently greeted his parents and grandparents. He entered a door on the left. Liam paused and let the door close behind him. He stood in a large room with royal red carpet and golden trim. There was a marble desk near a large window with a balcony, and marble bookcases. Inside his royal office, Liam hurried to his desk. He sat in his royal chair and hesitated. He didn't want to open the drawer, but he must, for he needed to know whether his advisors were to blame or not.
Suddenly, snarling filled his ears and he stood from his chair. A zombie emerged from the balcony behind him and grabbed his chair. It threw the chair aside and ran for Liam, who slid over the marble desk and fell roughly on his chest, momentarily winded. He rolled over, and the zombie landed heavily on top of him.
Liam thrust his knife into the zombie's neck and near-black blood spurted onto his face. It was cold and thick and prevented Liam from seeing, so he kicked and sent the zombie flying from him. He scrambled to his feet and wiped at his eyes, sensing the zombie tumbling toward him. He reeled back his arm and threw the knife, and a moment later came a thud. Liam wiped at his face until he could see, then retrieved the knife from the zombie's skull.
He was beginning to lose his patience. He rounded the desk and opened its marble drawer.
This is proof.
Liam slammed the drawer shut and pounded toward the door. He couldn't control his anger any longer. Even now, his advisors sought to destroy him.
There came a muffled clatter, and Liam froze. Now standing back in the hall, he pressed his ear to the door from which the noise came. He heard nothing, but he sensed movement nearby. He silently pushed open the door and was greeted with a familiar circular table that fit a circular room. To his right lie a door, beyond which sat the small kitchen meant only for appetizer plates. He was briefly reminded of his advisors sitting at the round table, gazing at him with disgust. Liam shivered at the image. He regained his focus. There should be none in that kitchen, save for a curious zombie. Yet, Liam could hear voices. For a wild moment, he was afraid he was hallucinating. He moved silently to the door.
"Why must we use this kitchen?"
"The other is running low on stock."
Liam pushed open the door. A black-and-white tiled floor stood as a base for two lines of tables, between which stood three men clad in chef coats and hats. Liam recognized the nearest one to be Chef Lowinn. A very sweet aroma hit Liam's nose and he wavered slightly.
"Your Highness!" spoke Lowinn, removing his hat and revealing wild hair. "Forgive us for the intrusion, we didn't... We didn't think you still resided in Harksgold."
"You may speak plainly with me, Christopher," spoke Liam quietly. He sensed tremendous tension in the air.
The other two chefs looked to Christopher, who fumbled with his hat. After a moment, he took a shaky breath. "You left us to die!"
"I don't mean to defend myself when I say that I don't know who closed the doors on you," said Liam quietly.
"You did not open them!" hissed Christopher. "I lost most of my chefs, save for two! Two! What's more, your advisors came informing us that you were leaving and never to return! They did not offer us safe passage with you! I cooked for your entire family! Your father raised you right, I saw it with my own eyes, but no matter how well he raised you, your own heart could not turn from its ways! Now you refer to me by first name! Do I no longer deserve the respect you had given me previously?"
Liam was deeply troubled by this. He was still battling with the notions of his father, and he knew he had made mistakes during the first hours of the plague. Whether the advisors were to blame or not, he was king, and he was to bear the associated guilt. "I call you by first name from the utmost respect," said Liam firmly. "You deserve the recognition that distinguishes you from those before you."
"That will not make amends," said Christopher. He turned abruptly to one of his men. "Watch the food!" he hissed, and the poor man he scared tended to the stove.
"When I left for the portmaster, I did so under the belief that you were dead. Had I known this was not so, I would not have left," said Liam. He continued before Christopher could retort. "Shortly after, my advisors disappeared from the portmaster's house. I hadn't known where they had gone until this moment, where I now realize they came here. They were not acting from my command, Christopher, I can assure you that. They have deceived me all these years. Everyone knew that they were manipulative except for me. I didn't trust that they would really do such a thing, and I have paid the price. I am still paying the price for my mistakes."
After a brief pause, Christopher's shoulders dropped and he returned his hat to his head. "Forgive me, Your Highness," he said in a low, calm voice.
"Refer to me as Liam," he replied. "You all may do so. I need to have a meeting, and I would like you to be in attendance, Christopher."
The chef nodded. "Of course."
Liam turned and made his way back into the circular meeting room. He spotted a golden panel latched onto a wall and pressed a marble button in its center. Then, he took a seat and closed his eyes. The smell drifting from the kitchen brought a warmness to the room that Liam hadn't felt in a while, and immediately he became drowsy. He knew he mustn't fall asleep, but momentarily he felt as if he were home... He wanted to return to his bedroom...
"Did you call?"
Liam opened his eyes and found Stephen, Gresham, Prima, and Theo standing in the room. Overcoming momentary disorientation, he stood and gestured toward the table. "We need to discuss a few developments."
Liam sensed Jackson nearby.
"Developments?" questioned Prima, who was holding a large box. She plopped it down onto the table and helped Gresham into a chair.
Liam returned to his own chair and nodded.
"Who's in the kitchen?" asked Stephen, sitting with a very straight spine.
The kitchen door opened, and out came the three chefs, balancing dishes on their arms. They set before each of them a golden plate laden with cooked greens, chicken, and fried rice. "Very glad I made extra," said Christopher, returning to the kitchen for drinks.
Gresham, Prima, and Theo stared in awe at the food before them. Stephen glanced at his hands with a frown. Liam called for Jackson, and he entered the room. "Sit and eat with us," said Liam, and Jackson did so as a plate was set before him.
"I never thought I'd see the day that we'd eat food of the land," said Prima, her dark eyes slightly glossy. She delicately carved into her chicken.
They all had quite an aggressive appetite, though the only one who absolutely couldn't show restraint was Theo, who was devouring his plate. Liam didn't mind this, for he felt sympathetic toward those of Dínam. Now, he realized, they needed to return to Dínam soon, for the people needed to know of the food that was available.
Christopher returned carrying drinks, all of which were refreshing bottles of water, save for one. The last to be displayed had a pink tint and a straw, and was given to Stephen. "I made this once I saw your hands were immobile. It will be just as nourishing as the plate."
"Thank you," said Stephen, his face slightly flushed.
"Christopher, can you call the other two men?" asked Liam.
Christopher nodded, and a moment later, they all sat around the table eating silently. Liam couldn't remember the last time he had eaten such a meal, let alone one without his advisors. He felt as if the true reigns of a king were finally opening to him. Mostly, he was grateful that the plague hadn't wiped all the good souls from the kingdom.
They finished their meals rather quickly, and Liam nudged his plate forward and cleared his throat. "I am very pleased to announce Chef Lowinn's presence, along with his other two chefs. Forgive me, I don't know your names."
"Ewinn," said one, whose arms were crossed.
"Alex," said the other, who lounged comfortably in his chair.
"It's nice to finally be acquainted," said Liam. "I believe you don't know our other friends, whose names are Gresham, Prima, and Theo. They come from Dínam."
At this, the two chefs tensed and stared directly at them, but Christopher maintained eye contact with Liam. Liam made a note to speak with the chefs after the meeting. He didn't want to become stuck with two more advisors. "The war ended two days ago, when the king of Dínam fell in battle. The one who takes his place is very understanding and respectful. That is, if he is not infected." Liam paused and glanced around the table. He wasn't used to such silence. He expected to be interrupted, though all held their tongues. Stephen gave a nod, and Liam continued. "Christopher, what is your estimate?"
"If we were to reside in the palace as nine people, eating three meals a day, I would estimate a month and a half," said Christopher.
Liam wanted to question the chefs on how they escaped the room of the infected, but he knew it was a tense matter, so he decided against it. "Stephen, did you gather all the medical supplies you could?"
Stephen sipped his drink and nodded. "I now have two scanners and plenty of antibiotics and pain medication."
Liam took a breath. Minute pulses of anger were beginning to flow through him once more. "When the advisors momentarily vanished from the portmaster's house, they returned here," he said.
Jackson's eyes widened.
"They stole my seal," said Liam. "I believe it is now in the hands of Oliver, who is in Dínam."
"Liam," said Jackson, "I didn't see them head in that direction. I'll admit when we found the advisors, they were coming from the general direction of the palace, but had I suspected they had actually gone there, I would have said something."
"I don't blame you, Jackson," said Liam quietly. "I believe you. Nevertheless, because Oliver has my seal, we must assume that he holds power in Dínam and is creating all sorts of laws and false decrees under my name. I would like to return to Dínam as soon as possible, but not that Dínam. We are not ready for that Dínam. I would like to pay visit to the Dínam of refugees. Christopher, Ewinn, Alex, I will inform you separately of the details. I am afraid we don't have time now."
"How are we supposed to make it to the new Dínam if we do not know where it is located?" questioned Prima. "There will be no currents to guide us."
"We also don't have a captain," said Theo.
"I will steer the ship," said Liam. He had no true experience in navigating the seas, but he was taught well on it in light of the war. "Gresham, what direction did you send the cry for help?"
"East, beyond the Shamaland," replied Gresham with clenched teeth.
"East we shall go," declared Liam. "We will leave immediately."