The Descendants Book One: The Broken Scroll (9 page)

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The sunlight was scattering through the trees around Davin’s cabin.  He was still lying in the grass, squinting in the morning light.  He was definitely glad it was morning.  Things made a lot more sense when one wasn’t drowsy. 

A loud, low-pitched horn sounded in the distance.  It must have waked him when it sounded the first time.  There was nothing that made that sound in Lemirre.  It had to be the army. 

In a few short minutes Davin dressed and started down toward town himself. 

As Lemirre came into view he saw no sign of the army yet, but there was the scent of anxiety in the air.  The town was bustling as always, but today it was with nervous energy.  Several people ran into him as he strolled down the central street of town.  Everyone was preparing for the visit, trying to get all of their morning shopping done before the army appeared.  People ran all over the street in disorderly fashion with all sorts of goods in their hands. 

He finally found a path through the pandemonium to Roland’s shop.  He saw through the window that Roland was hard at work inside. 

“Roland, don’t kill yourself trying to finish this.  Just tell the First Captain it was an impossible task,” Davin asked as he rounded the doorway.

Roland stopped working and looked at Davin, obviously thinking hard about his words.  He had definitely struggled with the decision. 

“You’d better be right about this,” said Roland firmly.  Straightening up and smiling he continued, “Now, are you going to behave yourself for the army?” 

Davin snorted in amusement.  “Is anyone?  I thought this town didn’t care about all that.”

Roland gestured to the mild chaos outside his shop.  “You wouldn’t know the way they’re carrying on out there.”

“We talk big,” Davin agreed, “but when it comes down to it everyone is just as afraid as the other.  You and I both know this town would never make a stand against anything.”

“Well, the sooner the army moves out, the sooner we can move on, right?”

“Exactly,” Davin replied.  If only he truly believed that were true.  The Ancient in his dream had said there would be conflict ahead.  He had to tell Roland now about what he had heard.  He didn’t know how many chances he was going have after this conversation. 

“Roland…” he started after a few long moments.

Davin didn’t get the words out.  The low horn sounded again.  This time it was much closer.  In fact it sounded like it was right outside.  Davin stepped out and looked.  His mouth dropped. 

The army was marching up the central street in rows of ten.  They were clad in bright, shimmering silver armor.  Blue accents ran along the forehead of the helmet.  The armor of shoulders, waistline, and calves all held similar blue accents.  They in were perfect unison and ran about ten rows deep.  It looked as if only one half regiment had come.   

Roland joined Davin outside.  He examined the army for a moment.  “There aren’t enough soldiers here for even a
Dous
Captain to be commanding, much less the First Captain himself.  Odd, isn’t it?” 

“What do you bet it has something to do with those soldiers we saw in the forest?”
 

Roland nodded. 

People were now stopping to watch the parade of soldiers.  They formed along both sides of the street and spilled over into adjoining streets.  Davin and Roland joined the crowds.  Just when Davin began to wonder when the line would stop, he heard an unseen man call out.

“Halt!” a voice sounded, smooth and high.  There was tightness in it that commanded authority. 

The townsfolk had now created a half circle around the army.  The crowd extended down the street on both sides of the soldiers, everyone cramming to get as close to the scene as possible. 

The First Captain definitely was a man with a powerful presence, despite being young in years.  Raising his hands in a sort of greeting, he addressed the crowd. 

“Good day to you all.  I am First Captain Cygnus Deverell, Commander of the Grand Army.  We come here en route to Slainte.  This is merely a stopover in which we are to resupply with new equipment and rations.  As long you don’t get in the way of our business, you have nothing to fear.”

He paused as if looking around to make sure his words were sinking in. 

He continued, “Now, since you were not appointed a governor, where is the elected official of Lemirre?”

Several people in the crowded street exchanged glances with one another.  No one seemed bold enough to speak up.  First Captain Deverell chuckled softly to himself, amused by the response that he had received. 

“First Tenant, Thomas, will you fetch the man known as Tralton?  I don’t have time for this,” Deverell grumbled impatiently. 

Before the First Tenant could answer, Edmund Tralton stepped out of his home.  It was located only a short distance from where the First Captain stood.  Deverell spotted
the elected lord of Lemirre coming towards him and acknowledged him with a nod.  He smiled kindly, but his eyes remained cold. 

Everyone knew Tralton to be a cheery old man.  And most seemed intrigued by how he would take the First Captain’s unfriendly demeanor. 

“My lord, Deverell, “he began,” it’s good to see you again.”  Tralton reached out to shake the man’s hand.  When Deverell didn’t oblige, he pulled his hand back quickly, apparently unfazed.  The man was too aloof most of the time to really be bothered anyway. 

Tralton continued when Deverell said nothing.  “Perhaps you don’t remember me, sir.  We met once at the Capi
tal.  I was a guest lecturer at the Acadeems.  You were training new recruits.  It was some time ago now that I think about it.  Must have been-“

“That will do, Lord Tralton, “Deverell cut him off.

“Um, right, of course, sir,” Tralton fumbled.  Deverell’s interruption left him at a loss for what to say next. 

Deverell broke the silence.  “Where is your blacksmith?  One of my
Dous
Captains issued him an order of equipment some time ago.  I have his name here.”  Deverell consulted a slip of parchment that he had pulled out of a side pouch.  Before he could say the name, Tralton offered it himself. 

“Ah, yes, sir, you must mean Roland,” Tralton answered quickly, gaining his peppiness back, “this way, this way.” 

Deverell gritted his teeth for a moment behind Tralton, clearly irritated about having been preempted.  Tralton turned back and Deverell fell into step behind him. 

The two men left the circle of people gathered around the army.  Everyone watched them as they left.
 

Davin noticed Roland was no longer with him.  He
took special interest in this and was slightly worried.  Having seen this Deverell in person now, he was beginning to doubt the man had a forgiving manner.  Prack may have been right for once.  Deverell didn’t seem like the kind of man who would take excuses well. 

Davin slipped through the crowd, trying to keep up with Deverell and Tralton.  He kept some distance between himself and the other two, even though he didn’t think they would have noticed him following.  There were still several people rushing to see the soldiers.

As they reached Roland’s shop a minute later, he slipped hastily under the window and listened began to listen to the voices coming from inside.  

Deverell was speaking, “-and you didn’t find it important enough to finish an order for the army on time?” 

“No, sir…I mean yes, sir.  I did.  You must understand, it was a large order,” Roland shook nervously.

“We gave you plenty of notice.”

“I’m sorry, sir.  I could have it for you by tonight if you would allow me.  I will not rest until I’m finished.” 

Davin crawled forward to the doorway and peeked in.  He could see Roland cowering slightly behind his work bench.  Deverell had turned his back to him. 

“Why should I give you another chance?  You have failed me on this task.”

Roland shuddered.  “What do you plan to do to me?  I will not fail you again, sir.  I promise you.”

Deverell turned sharply back around and smacked him hard on the cheek.  Roland made no indication of pain, but his head stayed turned to the side. 

Deverell smiled gravely at Roland, clearly enjoying his power over the blacksmith.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small whistle.  Almost as instantly as he blew it, two soldiers arrived in the doorway.

“
Dous
Tenants, “Deverell called, “take this man prisoner.”  He nodded at Roland. 

Roland started to speak but the Lemirre Electoral beat him to it.  He had listened quietly up until th
is point. 

“Now see here, First Captain.  This is a bit unnecessary, isn’t it?” he asked, blocking the path to Roland. 

“I don’t think so, my lord.  This man is in violation of the law.  He will be taken to Capital and placed in the King’s prison.”  Roland let out a gasp and a small whimper at this.

“On what grounds?” 

“Insubordination.  He failed to acknowledge a direct order from the First Captain.  Now stand down, Tralton, or I will be forced to take you as well.” 

He stepped toward the Lemirre Electoral.  Tralton opened and closed his mouth several times as if to say something else, but then exhaled loudly and moved to the side, defeated. 

“Thank you,” Deverell said in mock gratitude.  “Now gentlemen, if you please.”  He motioned to the soldiers to grab Roland. 

Davin, sensing they were leaving, moved away from the door and around the side of the building.  He fumed inside over this Deverell’s cruelty.  There was no way Roland was guilty. 

He watched Deverell, Tralton, Roland and his escorts make their way back to the crowd, following slowly behind.  They dragged him into the circle of people.  Roland dropped in front of the first line of soldiers and didn’t try to get up. 

Gasps fell from the mouths of the townspeople and muttering broke out.  Deverell raised his hands and called for their silence.  Slowly, the voices faded back out. 

“People of Lemirre, one of your own have been charged with a crime against the King.”  Davin heard more gasps all around him.   

Deverell continued, “He will be jailed in the prison at the Capital.  This, however, is not the full extent of his punishment.  He will also be lashed for you all to see.  This man will be you’re example.  Do not fail me…or our king.”

A women’s voice, louder than the rest, emerged on the area opposite Davin.  Seconds later, Niahm forced her way into the middle of circle. 

“What are you think you are doing to my husband!?  He has done nothing wrong,” she said, fiercely. 

Deverell faced her and smiled, once again, sickeningly sweet.  “That matter is not for a beautiful woman like you to decide.” 

Niahm’s presence did not waver.  S
he was clearly not afraid.  “You will release him!” 

Deverell shook his head slowly, taking a long time to answer.  “I’m afraid that will not happen.”

Roland spoke up at this.  “Niahm, darling, please don’t do this.  There is nothing you can do.” 

Niahm stared at Roland for what felt like a long time, but eventually backed away.

No one spoke.  Davin was sick.  This sealed it.  Either this Deverell had gone rogue, or the king had lost his head. 

Something had to be done. 

His anger began to flare.  No one deserved this treatment. 

Davin watched as a long whip was placed in Deverell’s hand.  Roland’s shirt was removed by the soldiers that had thrown him down onto the street.  Deverell rounded to Roland’s back side, pulled the whip back, and swung.  Roland roared as the flesh was torn away from his body.  A large, red gash lay where the whip had connected. 

Davin looked away and clenched his fist.  This was wrong.  He heard another crack off the whip.  How could he just stand by and let this happen to his friend?

There was another crack and Davin did all he could to keep himself from shaking.  He took a couple of deep breaths and swallowed hard. 

Screwing up his courage he squeezed through to the middle of the circle.

“Let him go!  He doesn’t deserve this and you know it.”

Everyone, including Deverell and Roland, turned.  Deverell’s mouth hung open as if he couldn’t believe what he heard.

“What did you say, boy?” Deverell asked.

“I said, let...him...go.” 

“That’s what I thought you said, but I had hoped that you had not been so bold and foolish.”  He paused.  “I suggest you watch your tongue young man, or you’ll be next.”  He caressed the whip as if it were a fluffy pet.  

Davin breathed heavily.  His heart pounded as if he had just sprinted a league.  “No.  If you don’t let him go, I will force you to.  This man is innocent and does not deserve this punishment.”

“You are obviously delusional, boy.  I don’t think you understand your situation here.”

“Yes, I do,” Davin shot back. 

“What is your name?” Deverell asked, sounding irritated but amused. 

“Why do you care?”

Deverell smiled, but his eyes remained intense and full of contempt.  “Listen boy, I’m still giving you
the opportunity to walk away free.  Don’t try my patience anymore.”