(Author’s commentary): I know this chapter is a little heart wrenching… but I felt it was important to show just how depraved and evil the enemy that my young heroes are fighting against truly are.

And once again, I will remind you that you can read the entire story (so far) without the annoying author’s commentary, by clicking the button called: The Seven Kingdoms… up there… in the top bar header thing… just below and to the right of my nose and super-cool dark glasses.

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The Seven Kingdoms

Chapter Thirty Four

One of the reasons why Hildy had determined to stay and fight for Middle was the realization that she couldn’t evacuate the entire population, and she also couldn’t just leave them to the mercy of the Skulls. It had occurred to her, as she thought about it, that Smilingman was now so geared for turning out the things needed for war, that she could have most of the men and equipment there brought to Middle, and they would be replaced rather quickly. New men were already being trained, new equipment was already being made. And, to attack Smilingman, the enemy would have to make themselves vulnerable to an attack from the rear. What she needed to do now, was to make Middle into another Smilingman. To do that, she needed her staff, particularly the supplies and equipment people. Smilingman could run without them now.

She sent most of the barges back to Smilingman, to bring back not only more soldiers, but her staff people, all the uniforms and equipment, and the rest of the fleet. She also decided to move the Skull prisoners on Smilingman as well as the conscripts that were guarding them. It would be better to have all the prisoners in one place, and Middle already had camps, set up by the Skulls themselves, in which to put them all.

When they had sailed into the bay the previous morning, there were two Skull trade ships anchored there, both ships that had earlier been captured by the Skulls. These had been added to the fleet. Her spy master had returned to Smilingman in the Black Ship to continue his mysterious work, but Hildy now had with her the Wavebounder and three Skull trade ships, all in Skull colors. She sent them to patrol the waters around Middle. When the rest of the fleet arrived, she would increase these patrols.

She set herself to getting Middle ready for war as she waited for her army to gather. Two days went by, and then another. Men, and some women, began returning to Middletown from the camps where they had been kept. Groups of Skull prisoners were brought in by her soldiers, who immediately left again to help secure the entire kingdom. As the citizens returned, they were put to work in the already growing military production system, or, if young and healthy, were formed into units and began training under the soldiers of the resistance army. A few camps full of conscripts, already partially trained by the enemy, were freed of their collars and mixed into the new units.

The next day, there was an amusing development. A trade ship sailed into the bay. It sailed up to the large dock, and because the guards there were still wearing Skull uniforms, the ship discharged its important passenger, a Skull Prince named Naffi. The young prince immediately began to berate the soldiers guarding the dock for not calling an honor guard to escort him the castle. One of the soldiers, a furniture maker from Smilingman, smiled at the prince, and then informed him blandly that he, the crew and soldiers on the ship, and the ship itself, were now prisoners of the resistance army. With absolutely no fuss, a prince, twenty sailors, one hundred soldiers and their arms and equipment, and yet another trade ship, were all taken without the loss of a single life.

Martus Rudder was very sleepy. The gentle rocking of the small boat didn’t make it easy to stay awake, but the sharp hunger pangs in his stomach helped. He missed his own small boat, the boat he and his father had taken out fishing every morning, before he had been called into the army.

He had been sleeping in a small shed in Middletown when the invaders had arrived. He woke, sometime before dawn that morning, having to pee badly and a little hung over. It took him a while to realize that the patrols of troops in black uniforms and armor that were scouring the streets of the city were not Skull troops at all. The fact that everyone was wearing the same uniforms had been what had saved him. He had simply attached himself, in the darkness of an alley, to the back end of one of the patrols.

Later, he slipped away and managed to sneak out of the city without being stopped. He had walked down the coast road, and by midday he had found a small fishing village that was occupied only by women, children, and a few old men. Stealing the boat had been easy, once darkness had fallen, but the small sail and wayward winds had meant that he had spent the last four and a half days with very little water and no food at all. Now, at last, his voyage was nearing its end. Before him, he could see Skull rising out of the sea.

As he drew closer to shore, he couldn’t believe his luck. He recognized the sharp crag looming further own the coast. How many times had he seen that jagged hill from his father’s fishing boat as they checked the lines for fish or shared a joke to pass the time? He angled the boat towards the other side of the peak. He would visit his family before delivering the news of the enemy landing at Middle. He just wouldn’t mention that he had delayed delivering it.

Not long after, he was pulling the stolen boat up onto the rocky beach. He could see the small town near which his family lived, a little way down the coast, and inland, the grove of trees that hid his family’s house. He set off, overjoyed at the prospect of seeing his wife and son, his mother and father, and his younger brother too. It had been far too long since he had seen them.

He passed through the shady grove and up onto the porch, flinging the door open without pausing, anticipating the hugs and kisses he would receive. The house was dark and still. Only one person was inside, his mother, sitting still in the darkness at the big table that had been the scene of so many boisterous, happy meals. His mother said nothing, just stared at him. He felt something cold grip his heart. She looked so pale in the light that spilled through the open door, and so thin. So painfully thin. She looked into his eyes, and her own eyes were haunted. “They are all gone, my son,” she said in a hollow voice.

“Gone?” He didn’t know what she meant. He didn’t want to know what she meant. He went to her and knelt down, taking her hands in his. “Gone where?”

“Your son, my only grandchild, is dead, my darling.” She spoke with no emotion at all. “They took your young brother to be a soldier, and your father to be a sailor on a troop barge. They took our boat to catch fish for the army. We didn’t even have fish to eat or trade for bread. And there isn’t any bread, you know. Not with all the men gone. Your wife had to go to town every day, from sunrise to sunset, to sew uniforms. The baby grew sick. Your wife complained, and they came and took her away. I did all I could for the baby, but it wasn’t enough.”

He had had only a few weeks with his son, just after the boy was born. He didn’t even have the heart to ask her where the boy was buried. He got up and gathered some clothes for each of them. He found a few jugs of water and stopped to grab several fishing lines and a jar of dried bait.

Then he took his mother by the hand and led her back to the little boat. After setting her on a bench, he pushed the boat back into the gentle surf, climbed in, raised the little sail, and set course back towards Middle.