"Fetch the two foreigners. I sense a purpose for them." Savok sat with a cup of wine beside King Arynda. King Arynda had a fresh trim and the large, clunky crown sat obnoxiously upon his narrow head.
"What might that purpose be Savok? And don't speak any of that wizard nonsense."
"Careful, my King! You mustn't speak that way—my art has an odd way of knowing when it is disrespected."
"You mean, you know when you're being disrespected?"
Savok, sat down his wine glass and put two fingers to his forehead with a wry smile.
"Just have your men fetch the two queer men who carry bad omens."
King Arynda had two guards standing nearby scurry away off to the dungeons far below the throne room. The guards moved with haste but in truth no man truly had any desire of descending below ground level of the Castle Thornrow. The walls were slimy with fungus and mold. Whispers and stories of odd men wondering the sewage tunnels surfaced every once and a while when a guardsman disappeared after descending below. Others claimed the disappearances were down to the men just using the sewage passages as an escape to go off on their own and be free.
After some time, a few men returned prodding forth one of the two men who had arrived at the gate some time back.
King Arynda frowned, "Where is the other?"
One of the guards glanced at the other and realized he was the one being addressed, and rather awkwardly adjusted his posture and cleared his throat, "Um, sir, I mean, er, your majesty, the other man was not in his cell."
"What?!" Savok arose, incredulous. Hildebran, standing guard over by the main doors of the Throne room, took a step forward in response to the shout from Savok. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword.
"Ser Hildebran stay over there by the door, where you belong. I'd rather not gaze upon your face more than I have to."
Hildebran looked to King Arynda, expectant of some sort of correction—but there was none.
"What do you mean he is no longer there? I stressed how important it was that the squire boy is chained up and monitored at all times?" King Arynda now stood with Savok, at the foot of the throne.
Savok turned to King Arynda, "there is a traitor among us."
King Arynda furrowed his brow and nodded, "You are right. It is the only way."
Savok allowed the anger to leave his face, and his wits kicked in. "I can have the traitor at the foot of your throne by nightfall, m'lord."
"Indeed. If not, I will have you cleaning the stables with the peasants. I have no patience for traitors, necromancer!"
With that, Savok bowed his head, and flung the hood of his large cloak over his head and departed the throne room. He slithered his long tongue out of his mouth as he passed by Hildebran. Hildebran reluctantly held the door open for his departure—his eyes seething with disgust. There was never dark magic in this kingdom, never in its history. King Arynda's father would have been disgusted by his son's drift from their traditional values, thought Hildebran.
The spokesman of the King was standing upon a podium in the city square outside the palace and a large crowd was gathered. He stood with a scroll in hand and Savok beside him. A large crowd looked on; many were confused as to who was standing beside the King's spokesman. The usual men of the council filled that role but one by one they had been disappearing as of late. Hildebran watched from the entrance of the palace with haste.
The spokesman unfurled the scroll and began to read,
"By order of the King, it was been decided that there is a traitor among us, among the very noble men who serve the King's Highest Order. This traitor allowed the squire Terran, of our neighboring nation and of critical importance to our own nation, to escape our captivity. Men of the King's Council, Guards of the Dungeon Beneath the Throne, and men believed to be involved in the treason of the Kingdom by the enablement of the prisoner's escape will be seized and hereby put on trial by the day's last hour. The gates have all been locked from the outside in. No one leaves the city, no one goes beyond these walls, and no one avoids the King's call to trial—or else they will be punished by death by the rope. Thank you for serving your King and may you all have peace in this troubling time."
Whispers and murmurs spilled out amongst the crowd. A perimeter of the king's guardsmen began to surround the outside of the city square, spears at the ready. Savok quieted the crowd, snapping his fingers which emitted a bright red flame that rose from the center of his palm. It was a small flame, but it was enough to turn some heads.
"It has come to my attention, by the grace of the good gods, that the search can be concluded sooner rather than later. The culprit is standing among us, and I can sense his treason."
A man in the crowd raised a fist and screamed out, "You're a man witch with balls and no power. Get back on your broom, witch!" Savok's eyes stormed gray, and clouds drifted over head. The flame in his palm had blown out, but his eyes were dazzling. Men and women alike stopped all talk, and their eyes fell into the hypnosis. Unable to leave his own eyes, Savok released his grip on the people and he knew he had their fear.
"If you want to doubt the power of a necromancer, come forward. Let it be known." The man now made no attempt to speak, but he turned and ushered his family to follow him out. A couple other families followed.
"Where is the King? We want to see the King!" A voice cried out.
"The King will not show his face to a people who have betrayed him. The traitor must be found. Any traitor who is turned in by his neighbor will suffer. The one who rats him out will be rewarded greatly."
Shoving matches began in the crowd of people. Men began brawling, trying to accuse the other of treason. Savok stared amongst the chaos. Suddenly a hand landed on Savok's shoulder and he turned, cold as ice. It was Hildebran.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"What are you trying to do? Tear the people apart? You belong with the scum down in the dungeons." Hildebran grit his teeth angrily.
"No, quite the opposite, my friend. And maybe, one day, I'll remember your help—and I might just let you live."
Hildebran hadn't lifted his arm higher than an inch before the guards who had seen the buildup were behind him and holding his arms down, preventing his sword from leaving its scabbard.
"Not now," they whispered. "This man has too much power, Hildebran. Leave him be."
Savok had turned away and once again had the attention of the people.
"Listen, friends, do not fight one another now. Return to your homes, there is no use in turning in a false traitor. That helps no one. Just remember, you cannot leave the kingdom until the 'morrow."
Hours passed and men turned on men as they sought the prize for turning in a traitor. Soon, the throne room had admitted as many as fifty potential traitors. They were lined up, sat on their knees with a bag over their head and rope binding their wrists together. King Arynda walked along the line of men presented before him.
Savok followed by his side, whispering into his ear. The two matched strides for stride as they walked amongst the potential traitors.
"How can there be this many men who could have the opportunity to free the man from the dungeon?"
"That is not the reason many of these men are here. These are men who have committed any treason, big or small, and their neighbor has turned them in. We must purge this Kingdom of its traitors and criminals in order to have loyal men, my King."
King Arynda nodded and smiled, "you make a good point necromancer."
Nightfall arrived, and the fifty men were taken outside as a demonstration to the rest of the people of the city capital of the kingdom. Men and women were gathered. Many were weeping, for fear of their loved one being unrightfully bound for acts of treason.
Savok stood with the King. It was Savok who spoke up, the king's spokesman now nowhere in sight. Hildebran was missing as well. "Many of these men are bad men. Some are good. However, this kingdom is in a new era. You have a new King, and he will not stand for treasonous men. It has been decided that each of these men has committed a crime worthy of death."
Sighs and gasps emitted many from the crowd. King Arynda muttered in Savok's ear, "This isn't going well, I need the people on my side! Not against me! You are killing their family."
"Just wait, my King, I can fix that."
"Listen up, people of Fereton. Do you know why the realm is in a state of atrocious leadership? A lack thereof, I should say. It is because there are no kingdoms who are willing to purge their lands of harmful men. Going forward, we will hold no prisoners, we will execute those who break the law. Now, starting with these fifty men, I hope you will realize the importance of obeying your king."
The people were not responding to Savok the way the he had imagined. One man from the angry mob chucked a rock and it hit home, striking Savok on the cheek and drawing blood. Another man followed suit, and soon pebbles and rocks were flying in from every direction, and Savok had to turn away, the King was swarmed by guards, desperate to protect their king. A guard was struck on the back of the head with a throwing knife and he dropped to the ground, dead. The crowd roared, and men began encroaching the stage where the fifty men still knelt, with bags over their head.
As the angry mob poured over the stage, the man who threw the first rock lowered his hood, revealing the stubbled face of Hildebran. Onward he ran, his blade unsheathed. Men followed him up the steps to the throne room of the palace. The men who were bound as men of treason removed their bags from their heads and freed their hands with ease. They weren't Fereton men. These were followers of Savok, Hildebran realized as he glanced back and saw men get slaughtered as they were fooled by their appearance as captives. It was a trap, of sorts...he mustn't let Savok get away. Five men sealed off entry to the palace. Hildebran was backed up by men with pitchforks, pikes, and bats. They hacked down the guards with their sheer numbers and tried the gated doors. Locked.
Hildebran glanced back. Half the crowd he had amassed in the city square had fled for safety and the other half was now a small number, either slain by Savok's followers or still in the thick of a blood bath frenzy atop the stage that Savok had been speaking on. Someone above the palace gates on the balcony began a hailstorm of arrows that struck home on a couple of the men flanking Hildebran.
"PUSH!" Hildebran slammed his body into the gated doors with five other men, desperate to gain entry. King Arynda and Savok were surely inside, plotting the next move. The screams of innocent villagers and townspeople filled the square, and a quick glance showed Hildebran that blood was being shed over innocents. The door wasn't budging.
"Turn! Turn and face these traitors of the Kingdom!"
The men turned to face Savok's followers who stood at the ready with pikes and blades in hand, slowly encroaching upon them. There was nowhere to run where they couldn't be cut down. Hildebran felt his body go cold and numb. This was it.
Just as hope seemed gone, he heard it before he saw it. A stampede of horses and shouts from around the corner of the villages far off. They turned the corner and Hildebran was filled with hope—it was the men of the king's council, and with them was the cavalry of the Fereton kingdom. The wise Ser Ovald led the line with young Elder Rattar at his side. The innocents and villagers stepped aside hastily as the clattering of the hooves rang out. The screams of men filled the air from behind Savok's followers, and the shouts were echoed by screams emanating from Hildebran and the men who followed him forward. Not knowing where to go, Savok's followers awkwardly shuffled laterally with looks of fear etching their faces. Hildebran swiped down two with his graceful strokes and stuffed a third through the midriff. The clattering of the Council's men ended most of their lives, and shortly after an odd silence filled the city square. The silence that can only accompany such a massacre.
Hildebran stood panting, blood dripping from his sword as Ser Ovald approached him upon horseback. "Its best we leave the Kingdom. People who are loyal to the King will be outraged that we slaughtered these men. Savok will have his way and the people will be against us. We should move now before the dust settles on this."
"How many men were you able to take from our battalions?" Hildebran eyed the young debutants warily.
"This was the only battalion actively ready for training, so I just grabbed them and urged them to follow me. They are petrified, they are boys who haven't seen the battlefield before. Probably some twenty-five odd men." The wrinkles in his face reflected his age. The young but thinning Elder Rattar seemed to have aged twenty years just from the events of a few moments ago.
It was Elder Rattar who spoke, "No time for debate, it is clear we must go. The King is in a poor mental state as he is swayed by the dark necromancer Savok. Savok already showed his disposition towards our presence with his hanging of Master Elder Grantel. We'll find refuge at the Magi temple."
"I heard word that even the temple has been taken and destroyed by a mysterious group. We cannot go there." Ser Ovald always seemed to know the happening around the realm. Hildebran was tired of arguing the next move.
"We leave now. Move to the stables, I will bring those men who wish to leave now, but we cannot bring families, the path will be to treacherous and rough for them."
Hildebran made his way down the path away from the King's palace. Ser Ovald spoke,
"Hildebran, you cannot just say goodbye to the rest of the kingdom and leave them to sulk under the leadership of King Arynda and his new hand. They'll suffer!"
"Where will we take them? Our neighbors treat us with animosity, and the road is no longer safe, you said it yourself."
"If we leave this kingdom will become a dark place in the north, Hildebran. We must be sure that we are ready to leave, we are the glue that holds this place together, not the King. And certainly not his royal imbecile Savok."
"There is no time to think, only to do." Hildebran made his way to the stable, and shortly after him was Ser Ovald, Elder Rattar, and a host of forty men as they rode off, and out of the castle Thornrow. A new era in the Northern most kingdom had begun.