If I Ruled the World: Chapter Seven
Life on Relat Er is unpleasant for everyone, including the Queen.
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Mille and Klado slammed into hard rock, but not on the mountains of Excella Er. Klado looked up and groaned. They had landed on the receiving platform of Relat Er, the only Er in the galaxy where traveling was not only outlawed, it was a capitol crime. The attending guards, pale and agitated, seized them immediately and marched them away to await prosecution.
Chained to their chairs, they faced each other across a whitewashed room. The walls and floors were white, as was the light filtering in through a window set high in the wall above their heads. Mille, glad to be alive, pulled at her chains, straining to see out, but all she could see was white. It was as if the window was coated with milk.
“Klado?”
Klado’s narrow eyes were closed, their head hung, and their shoulders sagged.
“Please, Mille. No questions.”
The guards returned much later and lead them, still chained, through several stone corridors to a cobblestone courtyard where the fog was so thick, Mille could see only a few feet in front of her. Through the courtyard and up a short flight of marble stairs, they entered a grand room with enormous glass windows adorned with scarlet drapes hanging heavy from ceiling to floor on both sides. At the far end was a woman, narrow-faced and milky white, sitting on an ornate throne. It was Queen Vere, the most powerful queen on Relat Er. Her gilded crown fit snug on her brow, and her black beaded gown nearly swallowed her as she clenched her elongated staff, silver and pointy.
The guards grabbed Klado and Mille, dragged them across the plush carpet, and flung them at the Queen’s feet.
She sneered. “What are these?”
The guard bowed. “A Traveler and their contraband, your highness.”
The Queen stepped down and circled them. The thick satin of her gown swished, and the beads clicked until she paused and lifted Mille’s chin with the tip of her staff. “What a dreadful color.” She snatched the staff away, the tip slicing Mille’s flesh and dripping her blood on the cold, hard floor.
Mille cried out, stole a glance at Klado, but their head was so low she couldn’t see their eyes.
The Queen strode back to her throne, turned and sat, her head high and back straight.
“The guillotine. Both of them.” She leaned forward and adjusted her skirts. “Tomorrow morning. I have matters of war to attend to tonight.”
The guard to Mille’s left went forward and knelt before the Queen. “But your highness, the Traveler could use magic during the night and escape.”
“That they might,” she said, squinting at Klado. She eased back into her throne and waved her hand dismissively. “Keep them separated. If the Traveler escapes, so be it.” She glared at Mille, curled her lips and shuddered. “At least we will have this off-red … monstrosity. Killing her will send a clear message to Hermon Er. We have zero tolerance for their antics here.”
The guards didn’t take them to the whitewashed room, and there was nothing light, or bright, about the prison tower where they brought them. Once there, they removed their chains, shoved Mille into a cell on the left, and Klado into one directly across from her.
As soon as the guards withdrew, Mille tiptoed to the iron bars and peered out, but could barely make out Klado’s form in the semi-darkness. The torch at the end of the corridor provided little light.
“This reminds me of Gat,” she said with a nervous laugh. Klado faced the wall and didn’t reply. She shoved her arm through the bars and wiggled it. “I have my armlet on. Jump out and come back to get me like you did on Fex.”
“There is not enough time.”
At least Klado was talking.
“Well then, we can try something else. Your plan on Gat worked. Maybe a trick like that will get us out of here.”
“That plan was successful because I knew the territory and culture of Gat.” Klado sounded uncertain. “I do not know Relat Er.”
Mille paced. There had to be a way. There was always was.
Klado turned, watched Mille’s incessant back and forth, then stepped forward. “Although … monarchies always start out as small territories of related individuals that, over time, get aggressive. They take territory from their neighbors by force for no other reason than to gain more land for their loyal friends and family.” They gripped the bars and shook them, though they did not budge. “That is why my neighbor attacked my village. The day I took you there, I was hoping to see if my father had regained the territory, but he had not.” They pressed into the bars until vertical indents formed in their forehead. “My father’s reign has weakened, and I am sure he blames me.”
“No! Your father must be proud of what you did that day.”
“It is not our way to escape responsibility, even if it means enslavement. He would have been proud if that had happened instead.”
“Don’t say that. You were their hero. You are my hero.”
Before Klado could respond, the main door opened and a girl, pale, tall, and a few years older than Mille, shuffled in, balancing a tray of food. As she got close, her round blue eyes reminded Mille of the boy in the video she saw on Lierne, and her clothing, though tattered, made her look—womanly.
Mille instantly liked her.
“This isn’t your last meal,” the girl said. “I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning just before…” She pursed her pale pink lips, glared at Mille, and then Klado. “Are you both Travelers?”
“I’m not a Traveler,” Mille said.
The girl’s eyes darted over Klado’s face and attire. “Why don’t you leave? Doesn’t your magic work from here?”
“Are these cells above ground?” Mille asked.
The girl tilted her head and her wispy reddish-yellow hair fell over her eyes. “Yes. We are in the tower,” she said.
“Well then, yes, it works from here.” Mille spooned the thick broth loaded with creamy potatoes and sweet onions into her mouth and swallowed. “But Klado can’t leave without me.”
The girl frowned at Klado. “Why can’t you take her with you?”
Mille licked the savory remnants off the tips of her fingers. “They have to touch me.”
The girl waited for them to finish, never taking her eyes off of Klado. Then she gathered up the bowls, Mille’s empty, Klado’s untouched, and left, closing the door softly behind her.
Klado stood near the bars, holding one in each hand. “We can’t trust her, Mille.”
“Why? She’s nice.”
“She is desperate, and desperate people do desperate things.”
When the door creaked opened, Mille’s heart sank, but it was only the girl. She was returning with their breakfast of steaming, doughy bread and milk that sloshed as she walked. Mille breathed in. It smelled so good. The girl positioned the trays and then plopped herself in the middle of the corridor with her round, wide eyes glued to the door. Klado remained sitting with their back against the far wall. They didn’t touch theirs. Mille couldn’t eat hers fast enough.
“What’s your name?” Mille asked between bites.
“Trudi,” the girl said. She sounded frightened and nothing like the day before.
Mille choked, coughed, then put down her cup. “What’s wrong?”
Trudi wrapped her arms around her chest, revealing the pale round moons of her breasts. “I … can help you escape … but you have to take me with you.” Her breathing, rapid and shallow, reeked of the worst kind of fear. “And … you have to take me … to Indiola Er.”
Indiola Er? That’s the Er Mille read about while on Lierne, the one with the hexagonal cities surrounding vast waterways.
“Why do you want to go to Indiola?”
“Duke Edger,” she said, her face contorting as she gripped her forearms in a steely embrace. “He once told me in a fit of passion that if I lived on Indiola Er, I would be a queen.”
Klado got up and walked toward her, shaking their head. “He lied to you. You cannot be a queen on Indiola Er. They identify their leaders, called Directors, at birth and train them for twenty years to perform a lifetime of service.”
Trudi’s bottom lip quivered. “I bet they would treat me a lot better than they do here!”
“The emergence point on Indiola is not a place where people would respect you.”
“Is it a slum like on Lierne?” Mille asked, downing the last of her milk.
“No, it is worse. Much worse.”
“I don’t care.” Trudi was crying now, her tears pouring over her flushed cheeks in torrents. “My family has been serving the Queen’s ancestors for forever, and when I have children, and I will soon, they will have to serve her kingdom too.” She got on her knees before Klado with her hands clasped under her chin. “You must take me!”
Klado narrowed their eyes. “You are not my responsibility.”
Trudi jabbed her index finger at Mille. “But she is! And if you don’t save me, she is going to die!”
Klado, finally relenting, took a deep breath and crouched near the bars. “This is not wise, but my plan is no better. Hurry, we are running out of time.”
As the guards’ footsteps echoed on the stone outside the door, Trudi dropped onto her belly and stretched her body across the corridor. Mille reached through the bars with both hands and gripped her foot. Klado took hold of her hand.
Trudi lifted her head, her pleading blue eyes locked on Klado. “Do you promise?”
“I promise. Now, close your eyes—traveling the galaxy can be … disconcerting.”
I developed the idea for If I Ruled the World in 2021 and wondered how to structure it. The Phantom Tollbooth! I had just read it. Leave a comment if you recognize the similarities.
Major Update: I applied to the Pittsburgh Theological Seminary for a Masters of Theological Studies degree. That’s amazing—someone as old as me going back to school. I will let you know how it works out.
That's a very innovative way to escape at the end there, with them all touching in a chain. And now they have a new friend! 😎