The Marenon Chronicles Collection - By Jason D. Morrow Page 0,157

the truth.

“Can’t say I cared much for your brother,” Wilkes said. “Hope you do better than he did.”

“Me too,” Julian said.

Once Wilkes was assured that Julian was actually the king, his demeanor lightened a little, though his harsh tone remained unchanged. The prison was a mile or two outside of Homestead, and it held some of Marenon’s most vile criminals. It had been kept a secret for the most part. No doubt, some may have heard of it before, but most had never bothered to confirm the rumors, so its existence remained hidden. Julian had expected the proof of the council’s betrayal to be in some sort of locked vault; he hadn’t expected this key to lead him to yet another person he would have to question. He growled under his breath at the memory of his last meeting with Spencer. He hated Spencer for everything the man represented, and he hated the meeting he had with the man. It left Julian feeling like he was the bad guy, but he knew he wasn’t.

The thick woods were dark despite the cloudless summer sky. Julian didn’t like the idea of walking with a man who would so readily kill another for not saying the right words, such as “I’d like a water with lemon.” Robin walked directly in front of the king and for the first time on this journey, Julian was truly happy to have the man with him. Julian had too often found himself in dangerous situations where he could have used a fighter like Robin. He was beginning to see the benefits of having a personal guard.

They eventually made it to the prison. It was old and almost looked abandoned. The decrepit, crumbling walls barely stood around it, and just a few guards could be seen walking the perimeter. Seeing the place in such disrepair, and knowing that it held the most dangerous criminals in Marenon was a little unsettling. Wilkes apparently noticed the expressions of his new travel companions.

“It don’t look like much, but it’s secure,” he assured them.

Most of the cells were on the inside of the small fortress, but there were several lined up outside, exposed to the elements. Each cell was tiny. It was tall enough for a man to stand, yet so narrow that it only allowed enough space for the prisoner to sleep in the fetal position. Inhabited only by the broken and battered, the stench from the small prison was horrific, and Julian had to cover is nose and mouth to keep himself from gagging.

“You get used to it,” Wilkes said, glancing at Julian. “Every prisoner is provided with a meal and a bucket each day. That’s it. That’s more than they deserve too.”

“What about the one I’m looking for?” Julian asked, not wanting to see anymore of the prisoners.

Wilkes stood silently for a moment, studying the king, probably wondering why in the world a person such as Julian would be out in the dumps of Marenon at all. Julian didn’t expect Wilkes to believe him, and he probably didn’t. But Julian carried the golden key that he had taken off of Holden’s body. The key was all the proof Wilkes needed. With the key, he got no questions. Without the key, he was a dead man.

Wilkes spat on the ground and sniffed. “Yours is a special case. His name is Daniel and he’s been in that prison cell for two years.”

“What did he do?” Julian asked.

“That’s just it,” Wilkes said. “Some old guy comes in with Daniel and tells us to lock him up. No questions asked. He has his own guys put a lock on it that can only be opened by that key.”

Holden, Julian thought.

“Daniel kept screaming that he never did anything,” Wilkes continued. “Over and over, that’s all he would say. I talked to him about it one night, and I believe him. The man’s got a wife and was a farmer. I don’t think he did anything.”

“Then why is he in prison?” Julian asked.

Wilkes nodded. “Daniel’s got a scar on his chest, like a surgical thing. I’ve been told that kind of scar is from the implantation of a memory orb.”

Julian shook his head confused.

“I’ve heard of some people having memory orbs implanted in themselves when they have memories that need to be recorded, but also need to be hidden. Looks like Daniel is the victim of someone’s personal diary,” Wilkes continued, appraising Julian with a condemning look.

“I assure you it’s not mine,” Julian said quickly.