The Broken Reign Read online

  “I don’t know how I got here,” Joshua said.

  The man squinted at him and gave the ax a menacing twist in his hands.

  “You ran yourself in through the big hole there,” the man said, “Now who the hell are you?”

  “My Grams and I were in her house,” Joshua said. He extended his hands toward the flames. They prickled as blood began to flow through them again. “Then there was an earthquake and Grams creepy old painting fell on us. The next thing I know I’m in a snowstorm and Grams is gone. I saw the fire and ran in.”

  The man took one hand off the battle ax and stroked his beard. Joshua noted a thick scar running from the man’s hand down his forearm. Wherever he was, it wasn’t anywhere he was familiar with.

  “You fell through one of the doors, then,” The man said, looking thoughtful, “I heard they were all destroyed, but apparently not.”

  Joshua shook the snow off his head and the man gasped. Joshua looked up at him. A slow grin spread over the man’s face until he was baring yellowed, uneven teeth. Joshua didn’t think the smile was a good thing.

  “I bet the king would pay a bit of gold for you,” the man said.

  "Who's the king?" Joshua said. For some reason, he immediately thought of Elvis. The guy with the battle ax was probably talking about someone else entirely.

  The man set the battle ax down on the rocky ground and rubbed his hands together.

  “Yup, a soft thing like you has to be from the other world,” the man said, “If there’s still a door...well, that changes everything, doesn’t it?”

  Joshua shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  In one swift motion, the man stood and grabbed Joshua.

  “Hey!”

  Joshua struggled, but within moments the large man had him tied up with strong cords of leather. He dropped Joshua back by the fire and sat back down on his rock and went back to scraping the honing stone across the blade of his ax.

  “I’m Rangor, by the way,” the man said, “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Otherworlder.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. It echoed off the stone walls, giving Joshua a chill the fire couldn’t take away.

  Four

  Joshua

  The palace wasn’t very impressive. It looked to Joshua like a pile of rocks that had been pushed into some semblance of a building. Through the lopsided gate, Rangor carried Joshua over his shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes. Past a small courtyard with chickens and pigs rooting in the muddy snow. Then into a larger room made of rough stones that didn’t look like it had a square corner in it anywhere.

  The room was smoky and smelled of cooking meat and wet dog. Joshua was dumped on the cold stone floor, a blow that knocked the breath out of him.

  “What’s this, Rangor?” a male voice said.

  Joshua looked up, his body aching from the rough ride, his wrists and ankles stinging from the leather cords tied around them. For two days Rangor kept him in the cave, waiting for the snowstorm to die down.

  Joshua’s stomach growled. Rangor hadn’t given him anything to eat. You’re pudgy enough, you’ll survive a bit. He’d never gone more than a few hours without a meal. At least Rangor had wrapped him in furs and put a hood on him before leaving the cave.

  “This bloke says he fell through a door,” Rangor said.

  The king didn’t look all that different than Rangor. His hair and beard were thick and black. He wore thick furs and he had thick gold bracelets on his wrists. Kneeling on the stone floor beside him was a woman with dusky skin and jet black hair. Her blue eyes bored into Joshua.

  “So? Why should I care if he fell through a door?” the King asked.

  “No, he fell through a door,” Rangor said.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “You mean a portal?” she asked.

  The King gave her an annoyed looked but didn’t say anything to her.

  “Do you mean a portal?” the King asked.

  Rangor nodded, “Yeah, yeah, one of those. A door to the other world. And take a look at this.”

  Rangor yanked the hood off of Joshua’s head. There were several gasps and the room filled with murmurs. It pissed him off a bit. Maybe he wasn’t movie star handsome, but he wasn’t ugly, either.

  The King rubbed his chin, looking at Joshua. It was a lot like the look Rangor had given him two days ago. Joshua liked the look even less coming from the King guy.

  “Red hair,” the King said. The woman on the floor beside him was looking at him with wide eyes.

  “Red hair and he came through a portal, that’s gotta be worth some gold, eh?” Rangor asked.

  “There aren’t any more portals,” the King said, “There were all destroyed after...”

  He looked away.

  Before he could stop himself, Joshua blurted out, “After what?”

  The King and the woman looked at him like he was some amazing talking animal.

  “It talks?” the King asked.

  “Sure, it talks just fine,” Rangor said, “Doesn’t seem very bright, though.”

  “What does it know?” the woman asked.

  “Be quiet, Vazsa,” the King snapped.

  She shot him an angry look, but didn’t say anything else. The King looked back at Rangor.

  “What does it know?” he asked.

  The woman, Vazsa, rolled her eyes. Joshua would have laughed if he wasn’t so terrified.

  “Go ahead and ask it,” Rangor said.

  “My name is Joshua,” Joshua said. Speaking probably was a bad idea, but he wasn’t an ‘it’, either.

  Rangor slapped the back of his head. “Don’t talk unless the King asks you a question.”

  The room swam in front of his eyes and his ears rang. Rangor’s hand was like a slab of rock.

  “Where are you from?” the King asked.

  Joshua looked around the room. There were a few other men and women there. All of them were dressed in furs and looking like they would be happy to roast him over a spit and eat him for dinner. The room was lit by flickering torches along the walls. Off to one side of the king, a huge fire glowed. It gave the king’s face a hellish glow.

  “I’m from Oregon,” he said, “I live south of Portland.”

  The King continued to stroke his beard. “I have never heard of Oregon, or Portland,” he said.

  “Do you know where you are?” Vazsa asked.

  The King’s eyes flickered to her, but he didn’t say anything. Joshua was unsure if he should say anything. He didn’t want Rangor’s hand slapping his head again. The King seemed to be waiting for an answer, though

  “I have no idea where I am,” Joshua said.

  Rangor nudged him with his foot. “Go on, tell ‘em how you got here.”

  You carried me in here over your shoulder, you big, hairy ape. Joshua bit the words back. Sarcasm would probably not help. Quickly, he told the king about being in the room with Grams, the earthquake and the painting falling on them.

  “–and the next thing I knew, I was in a snowstorm and found Conan here in a cave.”

  “Who is Conan?” the king asked.

  It would have been too much to explain. He told himself to lay off the sarcasm.

  “He means Rangor,” Vazsa said in a tone that implied the word fool at the end of the sentence. “Describe the painting. What did it look like?”

  The King coughed and shot her a murderous look. She gave him one back, holding it for a moment, before looking down at the floor.

  “Describe the painting,” the King said, “What did it look like?”

  “I’m hungry and these things are hurting me,” Joshua said. He’d had enough. If they were going to kill him, they might as well get it over with.

  The King raised an eyebrow at Rangor. Rangor sighed and took the leather bindings off Joshua’s wrists and ankles. Joshua sat up, rubbing them to get the circulation going again. A dirty woman in furs offered him a hunk of meat. He took it, sniffing it. He ha
d no idea what it was from. It didn’t smell like anything he’d ever eaten before. His stomach rumbled. He was past caring, he took a big bite of the meat.

  It tasted better anything he’d ever had. The juices ran down his throat and he made involuntary num num sounds. The same dirty woman set down a bowl of something next to him. He grabbed it and raised it to his lips. It was halfway to his stomach before he realized it was some kind of strong beer. It was thick enough to almost be a meal itself. He hesitated.

  “Something wrong with our mead?” the King asked. He was looking amused. A better look than angry, anyway.

  “Um, no, it’s great,” Joshua said, “I just don’t drink alcohol. You see my dad used to drink and my mom eventually divorced him because of it. So I made a promise to never...well anyway. Tastes great. Thanks.”

  He downed the rest of the beer–mead, whatever it was. The effect of the alcohol hitting his empty stomach was immediate. He felt dizzy and a little wobbly.

  “Woo, that’s strong stuff,” he said.

  “You must be from the other world,” the King said, “You are a very strange creature.”

  “Yeah, you’re all pretty funky yourselves,” Joshua said, “It’s like I’m in some weird barbarian movie or something. I mean with all the furs and the beards and big metal sharp things and all.”

  His face was feeling flushed. Putting his hands on his cheeks he blew a raspberry.

  “Whoa, is this drunk? I’ve never been drunk before.”

  “Joshua, creature of the other world, I require you to describe this painting that fell on you,” the King said.

  “Oh, that. That thing was muy creepy,” Joshua said. The room seemed to be wobbling. The king had a scowl on his face again. It didn’t seem good.

  “That thing used to scare the hell out of me when I was a kid,” He continued, “And Grams had the thing hanging in her bedroom. Can you imagine that? Who keeps a wack painting like that in their bedroom? I mean sure, it had Grams face on it, but what little old lady keeps some weird ass fantasy painting in her room.”

  “This painting had your grandmother’s face on it?” Vazsa asked. “Tell us what the rest of the painting looked like.”

  Joshua giggled. He was feeling warm all over now. “I once saw a picture of Grams naked. And I don’t mean a picture of when she was old. She was hot. You never really think of your grandparents being young, but there she was, all sprawled out like she was...well, you know.”

  The king made a motion, looking past Joshua. A moment later Joshua felt an iron hand grab the back of his neck. He was yanked off the ground, his feet dangling in the air.

  “Glrk.”

  The King leaned forward. “You will describe the painting to us,” he said, “Now.”

  Joshua passed out.

  Five

  Joshua

  The first thing Joshua noticed when he woke up was the pounding in his head. The second was his roiling stomach. The third was the smell of horse poop. He hadn’t been around horses very often in his life. Grams had taken him to the county fair once. The smell around him was exactly like the animal pens at the fair.

  He opened his eyes. A brown horse with a long, black mane and a white spot over its left eye was looking back at him. It turned its head from one side to another, then snorted and turned around. The tail lifted. Horror filled him as he realized what was about to happen.

  He rolled out of the way as steaming horse pucks hit the hard ground. The horse snorted and nickered at him.

  “What did I do to you?” Joshua asked.

  Words made his head hurt. He cradled his head in his hands, praying for the pounding to stop. After that, he prayed for his stomach to stop trying to crawl up his throat.

  After a couple minutes, he raised his head. What the hell happened to him anyway? He tried to order the events in his mind, but his aching brain refused to cooperate. It wanted to go home.

  “Joshua.”

  He jerked his head up. A mistake. A wave of pain induced nausea rolled through him. He clamped his hand over his mouth, willing the vomit to stay down.

  A woman emerged out of the shadows. For the first time, he noticed where he was. It was either a cave or part of the King's palace. Rough stone walls, lit by a single burning torch. He suddenly realized he was cold too. His head must have really been pounding for him not to notice that.

  “Joshua,” the woman said again.

  It was the woman with the strange name who was sitting by the King, doing his thinking for him. Vazsa. She stepped forward and kneeled in front of him. He breathed in her musky scent. A combination of wood and something sweet and floral. Her dusky brown skin was smooth and clear. She had a fur robe wrapped around her, but Joshua was guessed her figure would be pleasant to look at without the robe.

  “Um, hi,” Joshua said. His head pounded and he groaned, rubbing his temples. This was no way to impress women.

  “The portal, you must describe it to me,” Vazsa said.

  “You mean Grams’ old painting? Why are you guys so freaked out about it?”

  "It's important," she said. She glanced back, looking into the darkness, "We don't have much time. If I take you somewhere safe, will you tell me about the painting?"

  Safe? She had to be kidding. “Listen, I don’t know how I got here–whoa!”

  Vazsa pulled a long, gleaming knife from her robes. Joshua scooched away from her. She grabbed at his leg and slashed the knife down.

  That’s when he realized he had been tied to metal ring set into the wall. The leather binding parted and he scrambled back up against the wall. Vazsa flowed over to him, putting her hand up to his lips. Up close, the heat of her skin radiated on him and her scent filled his head.

  “Be quiet or you’ll get us both killed,” she said.

  "Mmmkay," he said. He had a vision of riding off into the sunset with the beautiful Vazsa in his arms like some Boris Vallejo painting. The vision passed as Vazsa yanked him to his feet. She was very strong. He had the sudden feeling that she could beat the crap out of him anytime she felt like it.

  “Quickly, get on the horse,” she said.

  He eyed the brown horse with the black mane that so recently tried to poop bomb him.

  “Uh...”

  She didn’t wait for him to explain he’d never ridden a horse. Vaza threw a bundle of furs over the horses back, then tossed a fur robe at Joshua. He slipped the robe over his shoulders, grateful for the immediate warmth it gave him.

  “Listen, I’ve never–”

  Vazsa put her hands on his ribs and launched him over the back of the horse. An Instant later she was on the horse. While he scrambled to stay on, she kicked the horse’s ribs. It whinnied and vaulted forward. Vazsa leaned out and grabbed the flaming torch from the wall.

  The horse ran into a narrow tunnel and Vazsa knocked the torch against the wall, showering Joshua with sparks. He looked behind them and saw the walls were on fire.

  That was when he started screaming.

  The tunnel ended in an open courtyard, covered in snow. Justin blinked his eyes against the sudden brightness. Cold wind bit into his exposed face. Vazsa turned the horse and hurled the torch into a window. There was a whoosh and flames shot out.

  Men were shouting now. Joshua craned his neck around. Big, bearded men with swords ran from two doors on the other side of the courtyard. Vazsa kicked the horse’s ribs. The horse surged forward.

  Joshua tried to see where they were going, then wished he hadn’t. The horse was driving at a crumbling stone wall. At the last instant, Vazsa yanked the reins aside. Then they were climbing up a broken stairway, hooves clattering on stone.

  Something whizzed by his head and hit the stone wall beside them with a chunk. A glance back showed him a spear embedded in the wall. His heart hammered in his chest so hard he was afraid he was going to have a heart attack.

  Which was hilarious, given the situation. He started laughing. And couldn’t stop. Up the broken stone stairway they went, peals of
laughter rolling off him.

  Then they were at the top of the wall. Men were screaming profanity at them from the courtyard. Some were starting to come up the stairs, swords in hand. Joshua spotted the King with his flowing black hair and golden bracelets. He looked pissed.

  Joshua held out his arm, extending his middle finger to the King. The gesture must have been the same in this place, too. The King’s face twisted in rage. Joshua kept laughing.

  Vazsa drew something from her robe. Joshua caught a glimpse of something like a shiny red ball. She threw the ball over the castle wall and kicked the horse in the ribs. The horse reared back, then jumped over the wall into the empty air.

  That was when Joshua realized it was terror making him laugh.

  Six

  Joshua

  A shimmering red band of light spread out below them. Joshua's laugh turned into a high-pitched scream as the horse fell. He grabbed Vazsa, wrapping his arms around her torso.

  Hooves hit the shimmering band and they went partway through it. Their downward motion slowed, then stopped. The red stuff wrapped itself around the horse’s legs and belly. Vazsa stuck her left arm straight in front of her, palm out.

  “Go!” she shouted.

  There was a flash of light in front of her. Then they were shooting through the air like the horse was on a rocket sled. Joshua had a scattered glimpse of snow and trees and rocks blurring past below them. Electric sparks crackled around them.

  Cold air lashed his face and exposed fingers. He dug in tighter on Vazsa fur robe. A part of him was amazed he hadn't died of fright by now. Watching the ground flash by hundreds of feet below them reminded him he was afraid of heights. He pushed his face against musky fur on Vazsa's back. Shame warmed his cheeks.

  Moments later it felt like they were slowing and descending. He risked a glimpse down. The ground was closer, but it still made his stomach do flip flops. He vowed he wasn’t going to throw up on Vazsa. The taste of vomit was in the back of his throat, though.