Rebel, Pawn, King. Morgan Rice

took his cue from her, slipping back into the trees. He saw Elsius come out into the clearing, bow drawn. Thanos reached for the one he’d taken, and realized that he had no arrows left. Without any better options, he stepped out from the tree he was hiding behind.

      “I thought you’d be better prey than this,” Elsius said.

      “Come closer, and you’ll find out just how dangerous I can be,” Thanos replied.

      “Oh, that’s not how this works,” Elsius replied, but he took a step forward anyway.

      Thanos heard the snap as the snare caught, and watched Elsius yanked upwards. Arrows tumbled down from his quiver. Thanos snatched them up and set off back into the trees. Already he could hear the sounds of others approaching; Abandoned or wardens, it didn’t matter.

      Thanos hurried through the trees, able to head for his boat now that he wasn’t being followed. He thought he caught glimpses of figures through the foliage, and behind him, Thanos heard a cry that could only have been Elsius.

      One of the Abandoned burst from the trees near Thanos, lunging forward. Thanos should have known that he couldn’t hope to avoid them all. The man swung an axe that seemed to have been made from the leg bone of a dead enemy. Thanos stepped inside the swing and stabbed him, shoving him away and continuing to run.

      He could hear more of them now, hunting cries coming through the trees. He burst out onto open ground and saw a group of Elsius’s wardens approaching from the other direction. Thanos’s heart hammered as, behind him, at least a dozen figures in piecemeal armor burst from the trees. Thanos cut to the right, dodged past a charging figure, and kept running as the two groups crashed into one another.

      Some kept chasing, but Thanos saw more of them fall to fighting amongst themselves. He saw the Abandoned crash into the wardens in a wave and break against them. They had the ferocity, but those from the fortified side of the island had real armor and better weapons. Thanos doubted that they had any chance of winning, and he wasn’t sure he would want them to.

      He darted around the rocks of the island, trying to find his way back toward his boat. If he could make it there… well, it would be difficult, when the smugglers had betrayed him, but he would find a way off the island.

      The difficult part was trying to find his way. If he’d run straight back along the route he’d first taken, retracing his steps, it would have been easy to find, but there would have been no way to evade the men hunting him. Thanos didn’t dare to stop completely either, even though the sounds of pursuit behind him had given way to sounds of battle.

      He thought he recognized the beginnings of the path down to the beach, and hurried down it, keeping his eyes open for potential ambushers. There didn’t seem to be anyone there. Just a little further, and he’d be back to his boat, he’d be able to —

      He rounded the corner to the beach and stopped. One of the Abandoned was there, massive and muscled. He was standing over Thanos’s boat, or at least, over what remained of it. Even as Thanos watched, the prisoner struck it with a sword that looked like a matchstick in his hands, shattering some of the planks that remained.

      Thanos’s heart fell.

      Now there was no way out.

      CHAPTER NINE

      When Lucious got back to the castle, the executions were still continuing. That was as it should be. He didn’t want his men finishing this too quickly. He wanted to be there to enjoy it.

      More than that, he wanted Ceres to be there to see it for as long as possible. Lucious made a point of looking up toward her window, where he knew she would be chained in place, forced to look out on the scene there for as long as possible. There was a certain satisfaction in that.

      Far more than there was in looking back at the courtyard where the executions were to take place. There, men and women knelt in neat rows, while the executioners moved among them with axes. Even as he watched, he saw one push a man down, lifting the axe high overhead and swinging it in a neat arc that left a head rolling along the ground.

      “What is this?” Lucious demanded, his voice rising in anger. He’d been away an hour or two at most. Already, though, it seemed that a whole line of Lord West’s men had been killed, practically all of them beheaded.

      “We’re just doing what you said, your highness,” the executioner said. “Executing these men.”

      “And making a complete mess of it!” Lucious snapped. Or rather, they weren’t making enough of a mess of it. “Beheading them? I want them to suffer! I want you to be inventive. Didn’t I tell you to use every means of execution you could think of?”

      “Many of Lord West’s men have pointed out that they are noblemen,” the executioner explained. “And that as such, they have the right to choose death by the sword or axe instead of – ”

      Lucious hit him then, his armored hand sinking deep into the man’s stomach. The executioner was a big man, but with Lucious hitting him that hard, he still doubled over. Lucious snatched his axe from his hands in a swift movement, then brought it round to slam into the executioner’s back. As he fell, screaming, Lucious yanked the weapon out.

      “They have no rights beyond the ones I say they do! And even with an axe, you should be able to give them a death that’s a thing of horror. Here, let me show you!”

      He struck again, then again, hacking down at the executioner until he was certain that all the others there understood what they faced if they didn’t obey.

      When he was done, Lucious looked around for a suitable target to begin with. Maybe if he gave them an example, these cretins would finally understand what he required of them.

      “I want you to make this something people talk about a thousand years from now,” he said. “Is that so hard to understand? I want you to make these men last days before they scream their last. I want anyone who hears their child talking about rebelling to cut their throat, because the alternative is so terrible. Now, bring me Lord West. We’ll start with him.”

      The silence that reigned over the courtyard didn’t do much for Lucious’s mood.

      “Don’t tell me that you’ve already beheaded him.” Lucious watched as one of the torturers was pushed forward. “Well, what is it?”

      “Um… begging your highness’s pardon, but the king sent for Lord West. He wanted to speak with him.”

      Of course he did. His father could never just keep out of the way of his fun. One day, he wouldn’t have this kind of problem. One day, he would rule, and there wouldn’t be anyone making things difficult. The traitors would all be dead, and the people would understand their place.

      As slaves.

      Lucious nodded to himself at that thought. The biggest problem with Delos was that it had lost clear divisions. The weak had come to believe that there was a whole graduated set of steps between the lowest serf and the king, and the problem with steps was that they created the impression they could be climbed. Well, Lucious would make it simpler when he was king. Those who were not of the noble class would be the property of the noble class, as it should be. Those who argued would suffer for it.

      Which reminded him of the other thing he had to do today.

      “Begin the executions again,” Lucious commanded. “And this time, get it right. If I see any more merciful beheadings, it will be all of you in the gibbets. Do I make myself clear?”

      There was a chorus of assent.

      “Good. Now, open the gates. Let the common folk see. I have an announcement to make.”

      The guards did as he commanded, and people poured into the courtyard. Lucious tried not to show his contempt. A day or two ago, and he would have slaughtered these people for daring to come together like this. He would have taken it as evidence that they intended to riot, or revolt, or march on the castle.

      Even now, he looked round to ensure he knew where the guards were. Discreetly, of course. He didn’t want to suggest to these peasants that he was somehow afraid