Traitors of the Realm - Kingmaker Book 1

Kaelan - Salvation Chapter 4

The boy awoke just after midnight, panting as he sat up. He backed himself into the corner, next to the table, keeping the blanket covered around his body. "It's alright," said Kaelan, getting up from the couch. He gave the boy the jug of ale, half full, along with the portion of food he saved. Brown, frightened eyes stared back at him. It was as if Kaelan was staring at his younger self. The boy was lean in size and not that tall. He looked twelve. Thirteen was an exaggeration. He wasted no time in seizing the jug, gobbling down the beer as he wheezed. He began eating the food as quickly as he could, his breathing returned to normal as the warmth filled his body.

"Where am I?" the boy asked, curling his legs.

"Where no man wishes to be," said Kaelan, truthfully.

"In Echalon, you mean."

"Yes."

"What's your name? What's your age?"

"Joslin," the boy answered. "I turned fifteen last month, in March."

"Do you remember what happened?"

The boy nodded. "You haven't told me your name."

"It's Kaelan," he told him.

"Lord Bearheart?" the young man asked.

"Yes," Kaelan admitted.

"The same Kaelan, the Fool Bearheart?" the boy confirmed, excitedly.

"Is that what they call me?" Kaelan asked him.

"Yes," the boy confessed. "I don't call you that, I think it's noble what you did. You fighting for your wife's return, it's inspiring."

"That was five years ago," Kaelan told him. "How do you know so much?"

"My mother is a singer, she says you're her muse. She wrote famed songs of you. My father was jealous. Your name was mentioned everyday on her lips."

"Where are your parents now?"

"Dead," the boy said, softly. He bowed his head, the tears forming as he began breathing heavy once more. "It's my fault," he confessed. "I refused the call when the King sent his men. They murdered my father and they raped my mother in front of me."

"I'll give you some advice a dear friend gave to me when I first came here," said Kaelan. "When you cry, don't let anyone see. It's a sign of weakness. When you're being punished, never scream or make a sound. It empowers the slaves around you. They can break our bones, tear our flesh, but our spirits are ours, they can't take it unless we let them."

"I'm sorry," the boy whispered, his head still facing the ground.

"Not now," said Kaelan. "Feel free to be yourself here. It's outside these walls you should be concerned about."

"Is this my life now, slavery?"

"Get some rest," said Kaelan. "The morning brings it's fill of dread. Don't dwell too long on what you deserve. You're a slave now. You deserve nothing."

When the morning came, the boy was still sitting in the corner and sobbing. Kaelan stood there, reminiscing on the time he first came here. Arkron took pity on him, saving him from himself. He'd made a habit of always trying to run away even though the walls of Echalon were half the height of the mountains. One time he was caught digging a hole near the wall, not his brightest moment. Every scar on his skin told his story, some he got for disobedience and others were undeserved.

"Wear this," he said, throwing a ragged suit of clothes onto the floor. "Get dressed and meet me outside. Hurry along. If you take too long the Slave Keepers would come fetch you. They would like nothing more than to paint a new canvas."