The Girl at the Well Read online

  An hour before Liralexa saw them, those horses and soldiers made their way down a hillside to the green in the town of Vallerton. In an area where fear was as ubiquitous as blades of grass, the townspeople always warily approached representatives of the crown.

  “West!” General Hackett called for the governor of the region.

  “I’m here, sir,” the governor called, as he pushed through the nervous crowd. The deputy governor followed. They stood side-by-side before the general and his men.

  “The wagons brought back only half the supplies the king and queen expected. Your output is decreasing despite the multiple warnings we've given.”

  “It’s the weal disease again, sir,” West answered. He used his sleeve to wipe sweat from his brow. Adin West was a tall, fit man but tired eyes and lines of worry on his face made him look older than his forty-five years.

  “Is it weal disease or laziness disease?” The mounted soldiers laughed. The governor wrung his hands and shuffled his feet.

  “General, sir, we've never worked so hard, but we can't harvest what doesn't grow.”

  “Less than half the wheat we need? Do you know the scale of the building projects in the Golden Region?”

  “I do, sir,” West responded. “We’re doing our best.”

  General Hackett let out a weary sigh. “You must do better than your best then. Two more projects have been put on hold due to the intransigence of the subject regions.” He looked over the silent crowd until his eyes settled on a teenage boy attempting to secrete himself behind a tall man. “How are you, Malthus?”

  The governor wiped sweat off his brow again as he turned toward his son. “He’s well, sir.”

  “He’s a fine lad. I’d hate for anything bad to happen to him. Wouldn’t you?” Tears welled in the governor’s eyes.

  The general stroked his mousy colored beard as he eyed his cowed and unwilling audience with a cold hard stare. He was a surprisingly young man considering his position. Oozing with ambition, Hackett had ingratiated himself with Prince Cameron who admired his tenacious and implacable nature. During his coronation after-party, the new king raised eyebrows when he turned control of the military over to the junior officer who was only twenty-nine. Hackett feared losing his job, and more importantly his status, due to the persistent noncompliance of the subject regions. He was determined to turn the screws on them until the storehouses were filled to the brim. If he had to kill thousands to protect his job, he would.

  “If I have to come again next month, I’ll be taking more of your children back with me. Have a good day now.”

  He winked at Malthus. The smirking soldiers turned around and recklessly rode through the streets. One pushed over the cart of a fruit vendor. Weeping mothers surrounded the governor and his subordinate.

  “What do we do now?” Deputy Governor Regus asked.

  “There’s nothing we can do,” the governor lamented. He bowed his head when he caught sight of his son’s shell-shocked face.

  Liralexa stared into the well for what felt like an eternity until curiosity defeated common sense. She’d been trapped within the walls of the palace grounds all her life. She was born behind those walls and had never left. Her parents had promised to take her to Golden City when she turned seventeen. While only a week away, it felt like forever to her at that moment. She wanted to escape the narrow confines of the palace and go somewhere else. She climbed onto the wall and let her legs dangle over the blackness beneath. The light? Where was it? Did she have to jump down the shaft to make it appear? She shuddered and swallowed a nervous gulp.

  Then she remembered a story Aldrin told her a couple of years before. In the time of her grandfather King Artis, the young teacher was often dispatched to the subject regions to deliver teaching supplies. Not used to having passengers, the driver of one of the supply carts forgetting he was there recited the portal opening spell aloud. The alarmed Sigils Guild member seated next to him alerted him to his mistake.

  “We have a passenger,” he hissed. The panicked driver turned his head, but Aldrin pretended to be asleep. The driver let out an audible sigh of relief.

  “That was so careless!” Liralexa exclaimed.

  But her tutor explained that while some drivers were remiss in their duties, it didn't matter much because their passengers were always blindfolded and didn't know where the portals were located.

  “I suppose that is true. There won't be any harm if you impart the spell to me then.”

  He tried to protest, but she begged and pleaded. After much beseeching and besieging, he gave in.

  Liralexa rummaged through her bag and pulled out a leather-bound notebook, a gift her parents brought back from the Ayalan Kingdom. She brought it almost everywhere she went and wrote down anything she considered weird or interesting. Certain she had written down those words when her tutor wasn't looking, she carefully searched through the pages. Sure enough, there they were.

  “Oh, Portal, you must make it so,

  To the ? Region we must go.”

  “I’m doing it,” she said courageously.

  But where should she go? General Hackett and his troops had just returned from the Step Region. Aldrin told her the region got its name hundreds of years before when the people built steps into the steep hillsides. She wanted to see those steps. In her excitement, she didn’t consider the possibility of someone seeing her. Or the possibility of someone hurting her. Living in a protected bubble that kind of thought never crossed her mind. She took a deep breath.

  “Oh, Portal, you must make it so,

  To the Step Region we must go.”

  Her mouth fell open as the shimmering, glowing arch opened before her. Enthralled by the lights and colors, she stood up and stepped inside. Throughout her minute long trip, she experienced a peaceful, floating sensation. The pulsing colors and flashes of light mesmerized her. The portal opened, and she stepped out next to a well. It wasn’t the well on palace grounds though. Teenagers standing nearby gawked at her. They had seen the same strange glow she had seen and were just as terrified when someone emerged from it. Liralexa and the curious teens stared at each other and for a long time not a word was spoken. After his shock and bewilderment had subsided, Malthus, a tall, serious young man with close-cropped black hair, stepped forward.

  “My father is in charge here. Who are you?”

  “Where am I?” she asked, ignoring his question.

  “You’re from the Golden Region?” Malthus asked, ignoring hers.

  Natives of the Golden Region were easily identifiable due to an unusual birthmark; a golden stripe around the left side of their necks. A shield knot at the end of the stripe next to the throat was said to be a symbol of protection from the peoples of the subject regions. The well stood atop a hill. In an almost trance-like state, Liralexa looked toward the east. Patchwork fields stretched toward faraway hills. It was when she faced west, she saw them. A set of steps lining a hillside. Her eyes widened.

  “So, I am in the Step Region.”

  “Yes,” Malthus said, as he approached her. The others cautiously followed.

  “I can’t believe I’m in the Step Region. My tutor Master Caan taught me about it. What’s your name, boy?” she ordered, as she spun around toward Malthus.

  “Malthus. And yours is…”

  “Liralexa.”

  “Liralexa! The daughter of the king and queen?”

  “Indeed!” she said haughtily. “Your region gives my parents much trouble.”

  Malthus let out a laugh. “Do we now? Disease kills our crops and your parents have us executed for it.”

  Liralexa was taken aback. “How dare you lie, boy! My parents are good, kind and honorable people who want to create a good life for the people of the kingdom and…”

  “A good life for the people of the Golden Region,” a girl named Aimee scoffed, as she twisted her shiny brunette hair with her index and middle fingers. “Not for any of the other regions. Well, except the Mason Region.”
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  “Such lies,” Liralexa screamed. “If you would just cooperate…”

  “By not having our crops die,” Aimee laughed. “How do we accomplish that? Please tell us, oh golden necked one.”

  “The disease comes, and we can’t stop it,” a petite girl with dark hair and tan skin named Meryl said.

  “My parents have always had reasonable expectations. If it’s something you have no control over, I’m sure they understand.”

  “Maybe they have reasonable expectations for you, Princess,” Malthus said. “Alas, they don’t for us. They expect the impossible and kill us when we can’t deliver.”

  “So many lies,” Liralexa sneered. “I know my parents. That’s not what they are like.”

  “Do you want to come to Vallerton, our capital, and see the poverty of our people?” Aimee asked. “The people of the Golden Region pay just half what we do in taxes and get fat off the food we grow, leaving us with barely enough for ourselves. Who do you think helps to feed all those craftspeople from the Mason Region who work on the vanity building projects in the Golden Region?”

  “My parents are fair and honest rulers.” Her voice dripped with dismissiveness.

  “If you think so, you know little about them or the kingdom you will inherit someday,” Malthus said. “Do you know about the Strages?”

  “Of course,” Liralexa said. “I’ve never been, but I’m going next week for my seventeenth birthday.”

  “You will watch murder as entertainment for your birthday?” a lanky sandy haired and freckle-faced boy named Jack screamed out.

  “It’s not murder. It’s a sport, and the winner receives a gold coin. Such is the generosity of my parents.”

  “But all the other participants die,” Jack bellowed.

  “They do not!” Liralexa snapped.

  “Let me explain the rules, Princess,” Malthus said. “There are twelve participants. Each one is given a bow and a quiver. Eleven are given a dozen arrows. But one who’s randomly chosen gets fourteen. The sports field, if you want to call it that, has several low hedges and low stone walls. The twelve disperse and when a whistle blows, they hunt each other. The sole survivor wins a gold coin, enough to live on for just a year, and is returned home traumatized and damaged for life.”

  “That cannot be,” Liralexa insisted. “They lose, that is all.”

  “They lose their lives,” Malthus said. “They’re all teens like us. Your parents murder kids to motivate our parents. But we are helpless against the vagaries of nature.”

  “How can you be so unaware of what goes on in the kingdom?” Aimee wondered.

  “I must go.”

  Liralexa made her way back to the well. “I can’t listen to lies and nonsense coming from the most quarrelsome and ungrateful region of the kingdom. Is it any wonder my parents complain constantly about you?”

  “Enjoy your ignorance,” a boy with a head full of thick brown curls called to her.

  “I will have none of your insolence,” Liralexa fumed. She turned and scowled at the boy. “What is your name, boy? I will report you to my father.”

  “Anton,” he smirked.

  “What kind of dumb name is Liralexa, anyway?” Jack called.

  “What is your name, boy?” she asked.

  “Jack, oh exalted and high one.”

  “Jack,” she scoffed. “Liralexa is no more dumb than Jack. I’m named after my wonderful grandmothers Lira and Lexa. You wish you were named after such great and honorable people. You know nothing about such things. You are the children of nobodies.”

  “We're the children of the governing families of the Step Region,” Jack said. “We know what great and honorable leaders are like because that’s what our parents are. Your parents are evil despots who murder the children of what they consider the seven lesser regions.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. My parents are so kind, so loving, so generous. You know nothing about them.”

  She stomped away in a huff and wiped a tear from her eye. How could they say such terrible things? Malthus followed her. She uttered the incantation.

  “Oh, Portal, you must make it so,

  To the Golden Region we must go.”

  Nothing happened. She took a few steps, tried again and got the same terror inducing result. She heard tittering behind her, swung around and glared. That was when she realized Malthus was directly behind her. Her eyes widened and she let out a gasp.

  “Give me some space, boy,” she commanded.

  “No,” was all he had to say.

  She tried to hide her panic as she searched for the right spot to utter the spell. What if she was stuck in this hostile region? Her parents would be so angry. She tried to ignore the derisive laughter around her. Malthus shadowed her as she circled the well desperately seeking a way out. Then something occurred to her. There might be multiple portals. She guessed the correct spell.

  “Oh, Portal, you must make it so,

  To the Palace Grounds we must go.”

  There was a burst of light. Liralexa let out a sigh of relief. She was so upset she didn’t even think about jumping through the portal. She just did it.

  Instead of marvelling at the light show during her return trip, the seething princess mumbled curses and invectives at the cruel children who dared to criticize her beloved parents. When she returned to her own well, she stomped home. Two workmen who bid her a good afternoon were surprised when the normally cheerful princess paid them no mind. She wanted to march right into the Royal Hall and tell her parents everything the mean Step children had said, but how could she? If she wasn’t allowed to leave the palace grounds, she definitely wasn’t allowed to go to the rebellious and troublesome Step Region. She stood at the bottom of the steps leading to the front door, biting her lower lip. At first, her tutor didn’t notice her as he exited the house. Of average height with dark slightly wavy hair, the only distinctive thing about him was the walking stick with a carving of a bear head he carried everywhere he went. He didn’t need it. He was a fit and healthy middle-aged man, but he found it handy for traipsing the hilly and sometimes rocky landscape.

  “Ah, Princess Liralexa.” Aldrin ambled over to her. “How are you?”

  “Fine, thank you,” she lied.

  “You look troubled?”

  “I was just thinking the Abbingdons have lived in this home for three hundred years. Now my father wants to change things with all these building projects.” She pointed to the skeleton of a building atop a hill on the opposite side of a grassy valley. “Like the new palace. My ancestors didn't need a big palace. This place was big enough and has served its purpose for generations. I can’t imagine that monstrosity will be very comfortable when it's built. And the Great Hall. I'll miss our outdoor parties.”

  “I suppose the point is to impress outsiders.”

  “Outsiders were impressed by the character and wisdom of my grandparents. What more is necessary?”

  Aldrin rubbed his chin. “Well, I prefer the older ways, but who am I to judge?”

  “So, you are against change?”

  “No, change can be good. It depends on what kind of change it is.”

  “You are against these changes.”

  “I’m not one to judge. I’m just a humble tutor. I’ll let the leaders make these decisions.”

  Liralexa bit her lower lip again.

  “Why are you asking these questions?” Aldrin asked. He shot her a dubious glance. Liralexa had never shown much interest in matters of the kingdom before.

  “I turn seventeen next week.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m to learn the ways of our kingdom soon.”

  “Well, I’ll teach you what you need to know starting next week.”

  He hummed and twirled his cane as he turned to leave.

  “The Strages!” she said.

  The cane slipped from his fingers. He turned toward her.

  “I’m to go next week. Have you ever been?”

  A fleeting exp
ression of sadness crossed his face.

  “Your parents will tell you all about them next week.”

  “But they’re just a sport, aren’t they? Why can’t you tell me?”

  Aldrin bowed. “My apologies, Princess. Certain topics are off limits for me to discuss.”

  “Very well,” she said pensively.

  He picked up his cane and hurried away. She bit her lower lip once more. The doorman wasn't at his post. She pulled a key from her bag and placed it in the lock giving little thought to what she was doing. She headed toward her room.

  “If the Strages are just a simple sport, why is Master Caan unable to talk about them?” she wondered.

  “Liralexa, dear!” She turned to face her mother. “Have you been out all afternoon? You must be starving.”

  “Yes, mother.”

  “Come along. I'll get you something to eat.” She followed Stella to the kitchen.

  “The princess is starving, boy,” she told the kitchen boy. “Get her something to eat!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” he muttered.

  “I’ll be in the dining room, Sam, if you’ll kindly bring it there,” Liralexa said.

  Stella was displeased as she led her daughter to the dining room. “You must not address the help in such a polite manner. You must sound authoritative to them at all times. They are beneath us and we must not allow them to forget it.”

  Liralexa was surprised by her mother’s reaction. This was the first time she paid attention to how her mother spoke to the staff who came from seven of the eight subject regions. Many in the Golden Region dubbed them the lesser regions. And she had paid no attention to how she herself spoke to others.