Morgan Rice - A Rule of Queens

“Here’s to heroes!” he said. “God knows I’m not one of them.”

Gwendolyn sat before the bonfire, joined by Kendrick, Brandt, Atme, Aberthol, and a dozen knights of the Silver; alongside them sat Bokbu, along with the dozen elders and dozens of villagers. The elders were engaged in a long discussion with Gwen, and as she stared into the flames, she tried to be polite and listen, Krohn laying his head in her lap as she fed him small pieces of meat. The elders had been going on for hours, seemingly thrilled with the chance to talk to an outsider, venting about their problems with the Empire, their village, their people.

Gwendolyn tried to concentrate. But a part of her was distracted, thinking of nothing but Thor and Guwayne, hoping and praying for their safety, for their return to her. On this night of the fires, she prayed with all their heart for them to come back to her, for her to have another chance. She prayed for a message, a sign, anything to let her know that they were safe.

“My lady?”

Gwen turned to see Bokbu staring back at her.

“Your thoughts on the matter?” he asked.

Gwen snapped out of it.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Can you ask me again?”

Bokbu cleared his throat, clearly compassionate and understanding.

“I had been explaining the ways of my people. Of our life here. You had asked me what a day is like. A day begins in the fields and ends when the sun falls. The taskmasters of the Empire take us as slaves, as they do every other city in the Empire not of their race. They work us until we die.”

“Haven’t you tried to escape?” Kendrick asked.

Bokbu turned to him.

“Escape where exactly?” he asked. “We are slaves in the service of Volusia, the great northern city by the sea. There is no free province of the Empire, nowhere to run to within hundreds of miles of here. We have Volusia to one side, the ocean on the other, and the vast desert behind us.”

“And what lies on the other side of the desert?” Gwen asked.

“The entire rest of the Empire,” another chieftain chimed in. “Endless lands. More provinces and regions than you can dream of. All under the thumb of the Empire. Even if we managed to cross the great desert, we know little of what lies beyond.”

“Except slavery and death,” another chimed in.

“Has anyone ever tried to cross it?” Gwen asked.

Bokbu turned to her somberly.

“Every day some of our people try to flee. Most are killed quickly, an arrow or spear in the back as they try to run. Those who escape, disappear. Sometimes the Empire brings them back days later, corpses for us to see, to hang from the highest tree. Other times, they bring back mere bones, eaten by some animal. Other times, they never bring them back at all.”

“Have any survived?” Gwen asked.

Bokbu shook his head.

“The Great Waste is merciless,” he said. “Surely they were taken by the desert.”

“But maybe some survived?” Kendrick pressed.

Bokbu shrugged.

“Perhaps. Perhaps only to make it to another region and become enslaved elsewhere. Slaves have it worse than us in other Empire regions. They are killed randomly and routinely every day, just for the amusement of the taskmasters. Here, at least, we’re not torn apart from our families and sold off for fun. We’re not shipped from city to city and town to town; here, at least, we have a home. They allow us to live as long as we labor.”

“It is not much of a life,” another chieftain added. “It is a life of bondage. But it is a life nonetheless.”

“Can you not raise arms and fight back?” Kendrick asked.

Bokbu shook his head.

“There have been other times, other generations, in other cities, that have tried. They have never won. We are outmanned, out armed. The Empire have superior armor, weaponry, animals, enforced walls, organization…and most of all, they have steel. We have none. It is outlawed here.”

“And if a slave rises up and loses, the entire village is killed.”

“They outnumber us vastly,” another chieftain chimed in. “What are we to do? Are a few hundred of us, with our wooden weapons, to attack a hundred thousand of them, while they wear steel armor?”

Gwendolyn contemplated their predicament. She understood, and she felt compassion for them. They had given up on who they were, on their proud warrior spirit, to try to protect their families. She could not blame them. She wondered if she would have done the same in their position. If her father would have.

“Subjugation is a terrible thing,” she said. “When one man thinks he is greater than another, because of his race or his weapons or his power or his numbers or his riches—or whatever reason—then he can become cruel for no reason.”

Bokbu turned to her.

“You have experienced it yourself,” he said. “Or you would not be here.”

Gwendolyn nodded, looking into the flames.

“Romulus and his million men invaded our homeland and burned it to the ground,” she said. “There are but a few hundred of us now, all that remains of what was once the most glorious nation. At its center, a city of such prosperity that it put any other to shame. It was a land overflowing with abundance of every sort, with a Canyon that protected us from all sorts of evil. We were invincible. For generations, we were invincible.”

“And yet, even the great fall,” Bokbu prodded.

Gwen nodded, seeing he understood.

“And what happened?” another chieftain asked.

As she reflected on their fall, Gwendolyn wondered the same thing.

“The Empire,” she said. “The same as you.”

They all fell into a gloomy silence.

“What if we were to join you?” Atme said, breaking the silence. “What if we were to attack them with you?”

Bokbu shook his heads.

“The city of Volusia is well-fortified, well-manned. And they outnumber us a thousand to one.”

“Surely, there must be something that could bring down the Empire?” Brandt asked.

The elders looked at each other cautiously, then after a long pause, Bokbu said:

“The Giants, perhaps.”

“The Giants?” Gwen asked, intrigued.

Bokbu nodded.

“There are rumors of their existence. In the far reaches of the Empire.”

Aberthol spoke up:

“The Land of the Giants,” he said. “A land with creatures so tall, their feet could crush a thousand men. The Land of the Giants is a land of myth. A convenient myth. It was disproved in our fathers’ fathers’ time.”

“Whether you are right or wrong, no one knows,” Bokbu said. “But one thing we do know is that the Giants, at one time, existed. And that they are fickle. You might as well try to tame a wild beast. They might just as easily kill you as the Empire. They do not seek justice; they do not seek to take sides. They only seek bloodshed. Even if they still existed, even if you found them, you would more likely end up dead by visiting them than by invading Volusia.”

A long silence fell over them all as Gwen studied the flames, pondering it all.

“Is there no other place?” Gwendolyn asked, as all eyes turned to her. “Once our people heal, is there no other place in the Empire we can go where we can be safe? Where we can start again?”

The elders exchanged a long look, and finally, they nodded to each other.

Bokbu raised his staff, reached out, and began to draw in the dirt. Gwendolyn was surprised at how skilled he was, as she watched an intricate map unfold before her, and all her people crowded around. She watched as the contours of the Empire took shape, and was in awe at how vast and complex it was.

“Do you recognize it?” he asked her as he finally finished.

Gwendolyn examined it, all the different regions and provinces, dozens and dozens of them. She looked at the odd shape of the Empire lands, it center rectangular, and in each of its four corners, a long, curved peninsula jutting out in opposite directions. They each looked like a bull’s horn. The four horns of the Empire , her father used to say. Now she understood.