That night, I write to my brother, using a codename and a cipher, hiding my words behind an inquiry to the king himself. I don’t hear back.
After a week, with daily assurances from Via that Soleil is still safe, Haven finishes outfitting our small platoon of half-trained combatants and we start our march on the capital.
We spend the majority of our march from Reisau to Torsen with morning exercise routines and conversations over maps with Sybil and Lasis, who have taken up some of the tactical conversations with me. If Herman had, indeed, sold me out to protect me from my father like I suspect, it should be reasonably easy to negotiate a hostage release – and maybe even to discuss some sort of peace treaty. Not that he didn’t already have the Cainern army’s support behind him and I had a ramshackle group of dedicated and morally wronged farmers and an “ambitious woman” who I was beginning to suspect was a goddess, and her very normal necromancer pet.
Speaking of, Via is often nowhere to be seen the majority of the time, only returning to camp for dinner.
Sybil and I agree not to hide the beastmen or the bones from view. We will fight off any opposition we come to, and we don’t expect very much this far out. If anything, we think it will be a show of support that might be joined. Torsen is a reasonably safe place to test this bet.
As we travel, we encounter many people on the road: mostly people in wagons who shrink away from us. The forward scouts don’t witness any capital guards to report about, until we get closer to Torsen. They report that the guards turn tail and return the way they came, which bolsters my confidence and the confidence of the troops.
Lasis and I restructure the forward marchers to allow for humans to be at the forefront, including Sybil and Haven and I, while the beastmen take the middle, and the constructs take the rear. Haven has armed us all to the teeth, and I owe her quite a bit of my coffers if–when we storm the–my castle.
When we arrive in Torsen, it is silent as the grave. The front line is tense as we walk carefully through the town, eyes on the shuttered windows as we creep forward. Henry is a formidable shadow over us, even if he is at the rear of our small 30-man, crouched on his front knuckles so that he doesn’t tower over the small buildings.
When nothing happens as we approach the plaza, an idea comes to me. I round us into the center of the plaza and climb atop Henry. “City of Torsen!” I cry, my voice echoing against the seemingly vacant buildings. Though no one unshutters their windows or steps into the street, I know I am heard. “I am Antonio de Cardenas, former mad king of Led and prince of Cainern.” I let the sound fade away into the cobblestoned streets. I see a door creak open. “This day, I march with my friends upon my own rule – upon my brother’s rule.” My voice carries over the shingled roofs and I see Sybil’s hand grasp Haven’s tightly. A window slowly pries open and a curious face peers out of the darkness at me. “I march once more upon the capital that I had marched upon three years ago. This time, as one of the very sympathizers I condemned. This time as a friend of a necromancer,” I stand on Henry’s shoulder, using their skull for balance. “This time, as a lover of beastmen. This time, as one of you.” Now, I see faces staring out onto the street. A few people have stepped out of their home. From the far end of the street, I see guards begin to march into town. “This time, I stand before you, not a Cainern prince, but a citizen of Led. This time I stand before you as the Mad King – and I intend to root out the evils that I brought.”
I keep a close eye on the approach of the four men in armor, but more people step out into the street. “King Antonio?” a woman calls, stepping into the middle of the road with her neighbors.
“Yes.”
“You’re shorter than I imagined.” She gestures at the hulking construct I’m standing upon. “Barring, you know, the assistance.”
I smirk. “I’ve heard that.” I tap Henry’s side and they set me on the ground. Haven tenses as the guards make it halfway down the street, and I hear Sybil murmur something about time to move on, but I recognize the opportunity. I need to seize it. I walk through the forming crowd that parts around me, more curious than scared. I offer my hand and she takes it, suspiciously. I kneel. “I’m sorry I haven’t come out this way sooner. It was my mistake listening to the gentry of Led over its common people. I will not make that mistake again.”
There is a moment of silence, but the woman retracts her hand, patting my head. “Stand up, shorty,” she looks around at the gathered crowd as I rise to my feet. “Well, Torsen, what do we think?”
“Hail the Mad King!” Someone shouts. And a few people murmur affirmation.
The guards slow their walk toward us.
“Well, hang on just one moment!” Someone calls from a side street. My troop turns, and I’m surprised to find the man who was responsible for selling me and my friends to Sybil. He and his cronies carry wooden clubs and wear threatening smiles. “You’re marching on the capital? With what army?” He eyes my group. “Looks like you’ve made quite a name for yourself, there, Miss Whitman.”
Stolen story; please report.
Haven steps between him and her lover. “You,” she growls.
I step toward him. “Slave trader.”
“Slavery is still illegal in Led, on what grounds do you accuse me?”
“Shut up, Raphael.” Sybil says. “You know very well that I purchased half of these people from you just a few weeks ago.” Her outburst surprises me, but I see Lasis’ hand on her shoulder, and realize they are talking through her.
He stares at her for a moment, then takes in the rest of his crew. “You come into my town and accuse me of human trafficking?” He shakes his head, and I catch the flicker of movement from the other side of the crowd.
I turn and clock Simon with a nod. He returns it, letting me know that he sees who I’m meaning him to. “Careful,” I mutter, stepping back. Henry’s large hand covers my back.
The volatile situation sparks when the first of Raphael’s swings his club down at one of the skeletons. They leap to the side and twist in the air to punch his lights out. “Watch out!” I call as the guards on the opposite side of the crowd start raising their own batons to beat down the gathered townspeople.
“You were ordered to stay inside!” one of the guardsmen is yelling over the panic of the crowd.
“Protect them!” I yell and dive in, pulling my sword from its sheath at my hip once the people have moved far enough away from my range of motion for it to be safe. In the meantime, I elbow-check one of the guards as hard as I can in the stomach. Simon presses his hands to the ground. Thick vines shatter through the cobblestones and grab onto the second guardsmen just as I lift my hilt into the underside of his jaw. I hear a crunch of teeth and bone and parry a baton coming down from the third.
By now, a beastman takes up the back end of the assault, allowing me the room to twist around and make sure the rest of the townspeople of Torsen are safe.
I’m surprised to find Raphael and his men already bound together, Sybil and her constructs forming a protective line between them and the townspeople, who are reaching for and throwing stones at them.
“Wait!” Haven shouts over the din. “Wait! You can have these men, you can try them, and you can sentence them, but you cannot kill them!”
“Good for nothing–”
“Run this town too long–”
“Let me at him!”
The mob surges forward and Simon nods once at me, I catch the orbital gaze of Henry who lifts me easily into the air. “Stop!” I yell, and the whole plaza goes quiet. “Stop this madness. You can take Raphael and his men, and do whatever you wish to them – but it will be done justly, and fairly.”
“There’s no law in the land but your own!”
“Then try him on his own laws that he’s set forward for Torsen,” I narrow my eyes at the woman who raises her voice. She holds my gaze for a long moment, as if she’s testing me. As if she needs to know that I mean what I say. I do, so she turns and gestures for her men to settle down.
“Throw them in the slammer. Sam, you and your boys go round the warehouse, catch any of the runaways.” She turns back and strides through the crowd that begins to assemble themselves, clearing up the plaza and tying up the guards. She stands firmly in front of me. “Thank you, for giving us the opportunity to take back our town, son.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I level her gaze. “So the indentured servants?”
She shakes her head, “We’ve been fighting it for a long time. We were waiting for the right time. You brought it right to our doorstep.”
I nod and look back over at the guards. “Will you need more sent when I’m in power?” I gesture to them.
She raises an eyebrow. “Get on the throne first, then we’ll talk.”
“You’ll have my ear.”
“There’s a good boy.” She pats my arm. “I’ll send a Torsen delegation with you. Ya’ll are from Reisau?”
“We are,” Sybil says at my left.
“Tell Maggie I say hey. We have some old veterans from the old wars, they’ll be biting at the bit for a chance to take on your brother.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “Will there be any trouble?”
“You’ll take the trouble with you.” She grins. “The capital’s guys have already up and left, they mean to gather y'all into a chokepoint near the edge of the Norsards.”
I look at Sybil who nods understandingly. I’ll need her and Simon to help me navigate the geography of Led, as I was only shown a small quarter of the country. “Thank you for the warning.”
“No need. Thank you for helping us get rid of these guys.” She whistles high and a few of the older men’s heads shoot up. She jerks her head at me and they salute.
“You’re…”
“A force to be reckoned with,” Hazel finishes when Sybil’s voice carries off.
“Have to be,” the woman says. She narrows her gaze at me once more. “Set things straight. Send my guys back safe.”
I smile. “I’ll do just that.”
She nods decisively and saunters away.
“That went better than expected,” Simon says, finally catching up with us. I wave one of our beastmen over and direct them toward the older men who are walking toward us. “Go with them, get them sorted out, and rendezvous with us. We are marching ahead.”
The beastman nods and takes off. I slap my hands together. “Alright. Any last thoughts before we go?”
Sybil smiles halfway. “I can see why it didn’t work the first time.”
My gaze meets her eyes in surprise. “What do you mean?”
Via appears at my side and tugs me away. “Not for your ears,” she sighs, shooting Sybil a glare. The necromancer just rolls her eyes with a grin and follows behind. “Fabulous work, there, Tony. I just have some notes…”
My thoughts trail off as the platoon exits town surrounded on all sides by an excited crowd. They cheer as we leave town, and I find my heart tightening. If this is what they were waiting for–someone to give them the opportunity to liberate themselves, well. I had certainly taken Led for granted three years ago.